All dressed up and no place to go ( Haeli )

[Brig]

The 63rd day of Fall in 510 AV During the weeks since he’d lost his human family and left his ruined home behind him, the mountainous and woodsy territory that Brig called his own had grown. The Kelvic hadn’t so much as left what was familiar behind him yet. But day by day, week by week and more than half a season gone, it had expanded. At least in the general direction of Lhavit. But up there was civilization the likes of which he’d only heard tales of from passing traders and their ilk. He’d only skirted around the shadows of the city in one form or his other. But he was growing more and more curious with each passing day. At night he could see the city lit up on its high peaks. And sometimes it left him feeling a sort of melancholy he hadn’t before. Until just a few weeks ago, he’d taken sentient companionship for granted. There was his mother, his twin sister, they were his bond and somewhere to go back to after weeks of carousing, hunting and generally making mischief in the wilds. Now there was nowhere to go back to, no familiar voices to hear when he took his human form. Except for his own. And Brig was beginning to feel it. Enough that now he’d come closer to civilization than he ever had before. The animals that inhabited the forests were fine companions, or rivals in cases. But the humanity in Brig was beginning to crave more, something crafted into his very creation centuries before he was even born, demanded it. Not today though. He hadn't shifted into his human form in over a week. His thick pelt and the layer of fat under it was more than sufficient to keep him warm through the long nights. And his raccoon form was custom made for the terrain, and for hunting and fishing in the cold, fast moving streams that crisscrossed the narrow paths and burrowed into the steep ravines. But neither of those was where he was headed this early afternoon. Instead, the large raccoon was returning to where he’d left his belongings secreted away in an abandoned burrow. And where he returned to sleep off whatever mischief he’d made that day or night. He wasn’t going back to sleep this time, but to satisfy his appetite. It was a boggy place compared to the quick moving creeks where fish were plentiful if elusive too. The waters where they collected into a still pond were green and the stones in and surrounding it, mossy. The reeds high and a natural shelter for the abundance of life, and food, that thrived in that low place. Brig was hardly a picky eater. But in that small marshy spot just a stone’s throw away from a regularly traveled footpath, was a regular banquet. Freshwater clams and crawfish, frogs the size of plates and mudfish in the shallows. Thorny bushes heavy with fall berries and fragrant grasses. He’d not made a fire in weeks. He’d eaten his meals as they’d come. But today he might shift and have a proper meal, if he could bring himself to set aside his newfound distaste for the sight of flames and the smell of burning wood and coals. He wasn’t thinking about anyone being there, or nearby. He hadn’t seen another soul, well, he couldn't remember when he had last. Today, his mind wasn’t on looking out for them or the occasional dangers that also tended to wander in where the food was plentiful. But those mostly came at night. He didn’t choose the steep deer trail that came down to the water’s edge off the main one though. Instead he took to a balancing act along the sloped length of an enormous tree that must have fallen decades ago. Its roots exposed to the elements at the top of the rise and its crown buried in the deep silt at the bottom of the pond. He’d grown more bold maybe, week after week of this routine. Maybe his more human side was beginning to assert itself for want of attention. Or his mind was simply more on his grumbling belly than looking to see if his usual fishing spot was already occupied. Sniffing the air or listening to judge if another soul was nearby. But at that crown in the shallows, where he could perch on mossy branches just exposed at the surface, was the best fishing spot of all. And that was exactly where Brig was headed.

[Haeli]

She didn't move like a human moved. Humans tended to follow the path of least resistance and tread across terrain in such a way that created pathways that wore into the very foundation of what was Caiyha. Haeli grew to adulthood in a swamp where the land changed frequently, sometimes moment by moment, and the easiest pathway was normally the quickest way towards being something else's food. Instead, Haeli moved with an unconscious randomness that lead her across rocky outcroppings, onto tuffed grasses, and never ever through seemingly smooth easy walking. She also left very little trace. It was as if she was conscious of the land she traversed and sensitive to its needs. Haeli wore clothing, if one could call a simple shift such, made of sackcloth that was barely fit for a beggar. She didn't know the difference though. She hadn't relaxed enough to really look at anyone yet to notice the difference. Meeting their eyes was dangerous. When she finally did, she'd be embarrassed, but until then she felt comfortable. Cloth was hard to come by in the swamp, after all, and what she wore was finery by her standards. The shift reached respectively to below her knees and was belted with a coarse hemp rope. Her feet were bare, but she didn't seem to mind the fact. The woman had her blond hair captured in something that looked like a braid in the back, but was in fact more weaving than actual braiding. Rather than a flat braid, it was perfectly round, woven from four strands rather than three. And still she continued moving. Her pattern was so random that it must have had a purpose. Scouting. The tactic was simple. She was in a new territory learning a whole new geography, and so it was she was out walking around the city's outskirts, learning the lay of the land. Random had a pattern, after all, and only the swamp witch knew what it was inside her head. The girl stopped though, when she came to the edge of the water and lifted her eyes to gaze across its depths. It's stillness drew her, so much like the dark waters of home. Th pond's only movement came from shadows cast by a raccoon that interrupted Syna's caress of the surface by making its way up a fallen tree that lay like a slain giant at the water's edge. The aura of its death touched Haeli greatly. She moved closer, ignoring the raccoon for the moment, and laid a hand on the shell of what was once a near timeless creature of great wisdom. Lean fingers stroked bark, caressing it like one would pet the fur of a beloved pet. Her gesture was almost reverent. Glancing up, she caught the raccoon's eye. It was a big fellow, still slightly ungainly in its youth. His, she thought, though she wasn't quite certain why she thought so. "This tree probably saw the birth of our grandparents' grandparent's parents. Now, its going back into the soil to grow anew. It is such a shame to see a mighty thing like this find the end of its life. But it reminds me that the end always does come." She said softly, still running her hands over its bark, searching it as if expecting it to tell a story. "At least it still gives you a place to perch and fish. I imagine it would be comforted by that thought - that someone still needs it and appreciates it - even so long after its gone." She added, only half paying attention to the racoon. In her experience, they wouldn't' attack unless she pressed them or took something from one that belonged to it. Still, she offered it a smile. "So tell me, hows the fishing this morning? Any crayfish or frogs? Frogs are my favorite. I'll show you how we catch them in the swamp if your luck hasn't been so good and you're looking for a bite to eat." The witch offered happily, as if she half expected the raccoon to answer. It wasn't so much she expected it. It was simply that having had no one to talk to in quite a while, she was far more comfortable with animals than people - present wandering fellow included.

[Brig]

Brig hadn’t even seen her there until he was already settled onto his perch. Deep on his back haunches while eyeing the surface of the water in search of likely contenders for his meal. When she caught his eye, and he caught hers he froze, bristled and huffed while keeping his sights fixed on her. He was getting careless, except that while she looked like an ordinary human she surely didn’t act or speak like any he'd met before. Or even dress like the ones he’d observed coming and going along the well traveled paths. He sniffed the air, trying to catch what scent he could of her on what little breeze there was. There wasn’t much of one. Was she a Kelvic like him, he wondered? Her ease in the wilds, the way she touched the bark of the tree was unlike any human he’d ever seen before. And then she spoke to him as if she believed he could understand her and it startled him. He didn’t realize that he’d risen to all fours and backed up until being startled by the sound of her voice, his hindquarters slipped off the end of his perch and plunged into the water with an embarrassing sploosh. If ordinary raccoons could look embarrassed, strangely Brig did as he dug in with his hand like front paws and hauled himself back up. And then shook himself off again. Hers was the first voice he’d had aimed at him in over a week. If he didn’t count the old housewife with her broom down in the valley, when he’d been caught feasting on the strawberry pie she’d left to cool on her windowsill. This voice was much kinder than that one and he faced her fully, and tried on a smile that would have been more effective had he been shifted to a figure better designed for it. He could shift, right where he was. Suddenly the sound of another human voice conversing with him, contrasted sharply with long stretches of solitude…Company, even company that wasn’t aware of what he was, appealed more than ever. But if he shifted where he was, if he wasn't careful he might topple right off his perch in the process. He wouldn’t be wearing a stitch either and in his limited experience, humans or those like them seemed to go strangely elusive when unexpectedly faced with another in their natural state. He didn’t want to scare her off. No, he’d just have to be resourceful if he meant to communicate and well, invite her to share the meal that he hadn’t caught quite yet. If she liked frogs, there were plenty of them. But Brig wasn’t too proud to accept the help. They weren’t as easy to catch as he’d like them to be. If not shifted, then how to offer up the invitation? He let out a string of chattering that rose up out of his throat with a rattle, as if in answer to her own words. It was hardly effective but as a fairly reliable standby, decent miming skills, or so he thought, and a knack for entertaining antics couldn’t be scoffed at. He continued to chatter back, swinging his head first then rocking back and forth on his front paws. Then circling in place once or twice. Not too much, he didn’t want her to mistake him for having the madness that some of his unfortunate raccoon cousins sometimes did. If he hadn’t managed to scare her off already, Brig decided that the only way was the most forward one and he scampered up the length of the log to where she stood. Not too fast, careful not to try smiling and baring his teeth again. When he was almost there, he stopped. Not too close, he sort of hunkered down on his side as if to seem harmless or even submissive before rising up again, this time on his back haunches with a hand like paw waved in the air at her while he rattled away. She probably thought he was at the least odd for a raccoon, or had the madness after all. He wasn’t above faking an injury. But if he hadn’t communicated his wishes already he turned and trundled a yard or two back down the log before dropping to the ground and going after the quickest and most convenient morsel he could. His paws were useful ones, more than functional almost as human hands were, more than sufficiently armed for defense. But in feeling things that humans couldn’t. That most other animals couldn’t either. It didn’t take long, just a bit of careful pacing at the water’s edge and a fat earthworm hunkered down deep in the damp soil didn’t stand a chance before he held his prize, first in his ‘hands’, then carefully between his teeth as he returned to where she was. And like a perfect gentleman he placed the thing gingerly at her feet. It wasn’t much. Even if she was the least inclined to dine on earthworms, it was the only way he could think of to convey his message, a willingness, a want to share his next meal.

[Haeli]

Haeli watched the raccoon with interest. It certainly didn't act like any raccoon she'd came across. For one, they tended to be territorial. And if they didn't know she was watching, they'd play and be complete charmers. However, if they thought she was there and figured she was going to get their food, they could often be vicious. For all their masked expression, they were more warriors than bandits. She'd seen coons take on even larger creatures - swamp cats, small alligators, even people. She'd seen people flee from them as well. Ozantha had maintained a truce of sorts with the ones that lived in the trees around her cabin, offering them scraps in exchange for polite behavior. Haeli had always liked them, but at the same time been wary of them as well. For all their small stature, they were fierce defenders of both their persons and their things. She respected them though, for they had clever minds and a readiness for adventure. When the raccoon started talking to her, trying to bridge a gap between their two languages (After all what else could it be? Struck with madness?) she smiled as she recognized the offering. So when this one brought her a worm, she raised a blond eyebrow as her lips curled into almost a smile. "Thank you." She said politely, bending down to scoop up the squirming fat worm. Haeli broke it in half, squeezed the worm dirt out of both pieces, and slipped one end into her mouth. Food was food. And worms were good enough for fish, frogs and coons. Why not her? Carefully she offered the other half back to the raccoon, setting it closer to him and backing away. "I'm glad you know how to share. I'll share my frog catching technique with you. It calls for teamwork though. You are a lot faster than me on the ground, so you stand on the bank and be ready to transform them into snacks for us alright?" She asked, then turned and waded into the pond as if it was nothing at all. The water truly didn't bother her, though it was colder than the water in the swamp. Nearly waist deep, she looked at the raccoon with a 'get ready' expression. "Winter's coming, isn't it? The water is colder than it aught to be." She added. Then, gathering the hem of her shift in her hands like an apple picker gathered her apron to hold apples, Haeli turned and walked along the bank, keeping her shift beneath the water, almost concealed. She stirred up the bottom with her bare feet. And when finally a denizen of the pond popped up, startled, the shift was there to scoop it out of the water and the little frog was flung upwards and out onto the bank. "Move fast, my masked friend." She said, moving on to see if she could catch any more frogs. Haeli left it up to the raccoon to catch the long-legged treats once they were up on the bank. She wasn't good at killing things anyhow, so she hoped the coon would dispatch the pond denizens neatly for her. "I like the legs!" She called out which was an open invitation for the raccoon to snack on the other parts. All in all, she got four good sized ones. The smaller ones that would add no nutrition to their diets were left alone. So too were the overly large ones that undoubtedly produced the most babies. Soon enough, Haeli climbed out, rung the water from her shift, and took a seat on the log. She was curious if the raccoon understood her and had managed to dispatch the others.

[Brig]

Now was his chance to impress her with his hunting prowess. He’d already shown his knack for being civilized, albeit with the unconventionality required by being in his raccoon form. And the woman had surprised and impressed him by ingesting his offering without so much as batting an eye. It was true that Brig’s familiarity with humans beyond his raising was lacking to now, aside of rough traders or pilgrims headed north or south to one place or another. But she was different, even if he’d decided she was no Kelvic either. She asked him to stay ashore, and meaning to convey that he understood perfectly he rose up with a gesture of his left front paw and chattered away while she waded into the water. It was cold alright, closer to Winter now than to the Summer long gone. It had little impact on him just yet, he could still swim in his natural form and shake himself off, none for the worse. But she’d be soggy and cold when she emerged, and he thought a fire might do more good than just cooking a mid-day meal. Once it was caught, regardless. While she trolled the silt on the bottom for their pray, he prowled the shore, bristled and bunched himself up from front to rear. And huffed like the mighty contender awaiting his next rival. Sure, he might be overdoing it. They were only frogs who, if they weren’t poisonous tended to wage their first best defense by not being seen at all. Then leaping, or occasionally snapping back to little effect towards a predator of his size. Gone were any signs of the sluggish or ungainly clown, he and his natural cousins were swifter and more graceful when called on, than many a sentient soul gave them credit for. He only paused to admire for a second the ease with which she located and scooped up their prey, and leapt to meet the challenge when she flung it to shore. His approach was swift and ruthless, he wasn’t the type to toy with or torment his prey, but to dispatch it as quickly as possible. Trickier to dispatch, frogs, than to capture in the first place. Two of them, having anticipated their landing spots, he tackled as soon as they hit the ground and delivered the killing blow, or bite, by nearly decapitating them. And having grown swiftly bold and prone to showing off, he leapt to meet the third one mid-flight. But as it often happened with prideful things, the fourth he missed in air and took a rolling tumble, before scrambling to his feet and giving chase to his leaping prey. That one was finished with a meaningful snarl just at the water's edge. Each one, he collected in turn and carried them over to the log, laying them out neatly in a row, proudly at her feet. The fourth one was still twitching, but just as dead as the others. Suddenly he wanted her to know he was no ordinary raccoon. But would it scare her away, just when he’d stumbled on someone to talk to after so many months without? Well there was nothing for it but to take the risk. There were things he wanted to ask her, but chattering and gestures just wouldn't do. But neither would shifting out of the blue without warning. An idea struck him. Rattling away at her, he circled once…Stay right there he seemed to say and then circled again before he scurried a few yards away, only to disappear behind a crop of dead rushes, sheltered by the spot where the trunk of the fallen tree met the steep slope. There was a deep burrow there, large enough for his belongings and Brig in his raccoon form if not human. And it was a moment or two before he reemerged, shuffling backwards instead of forward while tugging along a leather sack clenched between his teeth. He dragged it further, back to where he’d left her and a few feet away, with paws and teeth managed to get the thing open. It was a much smaller leather sack he pulled out from its insides, and carried it over again in his mouth to drop at her feet. Inside was flint and steel, barely used considering it had been months since he’d brought himself to build one. But he chattered again, inching forward to push it closer with his left front paw, urging her to look inside.

[Haeli]

Haeli grew up among wild things, but certainly no wild thing ever acted like the raccoon did. He was extraordinarily smart, quick to catch the frogs and dispatch them. Plus he didn't eat them, he seemed to save them, which astonished her. Wild things normally ate when they could, wolfing down their food and filling their stomachs whenever they could. She was glad he did the deed though. Haeli hated killing things. And the raccoon did so neatly, causing them no pain and making sure their sacrifice of their lives so that the pair might have eaten wasn't wasted. Lining them up, she thought the raccoon was something more than he seemed. He certainly wasn't wild. Was he used to people? Was he lost from his family? Haeli knew nothing about Kelvics and had never even heard of anything of the sort, growing up where she did, so it was a good thing he didn't shift or reveal his human side because it would indeed have spooked her. Creatures didn't become something else. They were what they were, in her narrow world, and nothing more than that. But she did have something else to use, only she was late thinking of it. He was gone before she could tap the mark she wore on her body, gifted to her from Caiyha when Ozantha had offered her up to the Lady when she was a baby. All wild things, even growing things, spoke the same language. Ozantha had claimed it was the language of the heart. It was easier for fierce creatures to speak to fierce, and gentle to speak to gentle, but with practice everyone could speak to everyone. Haeli could only speak with creatures like her, like the raccoon. She was learning to speak with plants, but that gift came harder. A second mark would make it easier, but before she could get one, she'd have to prove herself to Caiyha, and that was a truly hard task to accomplish. But he was gone. Suddenly... leaving the frogs lined out like offerings on the log. And with his disappearance, she got the astonishing feeling the world was a lonelier place. Spending the few minutes she had frogging with the coon had almost felt like spending time with Ozantha again, and she'd missed her mother horribly. She missed the raccoon too. Sure, he'd clearly told her to wait for him, that he'd be back, but she was worried that he wouldn't. She wanted to tap her mark and talk to him. Really talk. She'd never spoken to a raccoon so she didn't know how their mind worked, but she was hopeful it was close enough to her own that communication wouldn't be difficult. And so, trusting and hopeful, she sat down next to the catch of four frogs, and waited. And he was back, just like that, quickly and effectively dragging something with him. It was a small bag. Then he took a bag from a bag, and that too astonished her. He wasn't normal. She was convinced. There was absolutely nothing normal at all about the creature. When he dropped the bag at her feet, she leaned down and scooped it up. Spilling the contents into her hand, Haeli recognized the flint and steel. Fire. He wanted her to cook the frogs for him. Haeli stared at the raccoon for the longest time, startled. "You want me to cook them?" She nodded, astonished, and set the flint and steel next to the frogs. Numbly she began gathering firewood and piled it high. There was wood enough for a fire, and dry enough as it was. She built the fire because she didn't know what else to do or say. She built the fire because she was so startled at the raccoon that she forgot all about the mark and speaking with him. She built the fire, cleaned the frogs and set them to cooking. Then, sitting back down on the corpse of the tree, she stared at him while the frogs broiled suspended over the flames on sticks. "I don't know what to say...." She said softly, watching the raccoon.

[Brig]

Brig was struggling more and more with his want to communicate. His design in this form wouldn't allow much more. His voice for little but growls, huffs and chirps and his body, his hand like paws for ineffective gestures. They were speaking two entirely different languages regardless. But in the time since he’d lost his family, this was the longest he’d spent with another soul all combined. The most he’d heard a human voice except his own. It was his own doing as much as not. But he was hungrier now to communicate than he was for the meal he’d planned. Enough that in the process he’d forgotten his newfound distaste for fire. Or rather it’s effects. As soon as the kindling was sparked he huffed, crouched and backed a few feet away, his nose twitching furiously. It only lasted a few seconds before he willed himself to overcome it. He’d seemed to ask her to build the fire after all, but however short lived, the response was still there. He was determined though that he wouldn’t let it dissuade him. He rose and inched closer again. And in the spirit of cooperation, while the woman cleaned the frogs, Brig helped where he could with his teeth and front paws. By the time the cleaned frogs were suspended over the fire, the Kelvic found himself bold enough to sit a bit closer, up on his back haunches and at the same loss she was. He seemed to be contemplating something long and hard. He considered risking it, and just shifting to his human form there where he sat. He was running out of ideas, how to ease his way into the transformation instead. He had no way of knowing that she had another way to communicate. And if he'd realized that his kind were a mystery to her, he’d have known that easing into a transformation would be all the harder a challenge. But one more idea. Just one, and then he’d risk it. He dropped down on all fours and turned round to his bag again. This time in an effort to get what he wanted, the raccoon plunged half his body into it before coming out again. His efforts were certainly becoming more elaborate. He returned, this time, carrying a dingy ragdoll gingerly between his teeth. It was almost impossible to tell whether the doll was intended to be male or female, but it was definitely the sort of thing favored by a human child. Worn from handling, what clothing it had worn once was singed in places and burned away completely in others. The same of its dark yarn hair, and the whole thing was stained by heat and smoke. Brig carried it carefully, and laid the doll down on the log beside the woman. He looked up at her expectantly, nudged the thing with his front paw and huffed, as if he intended there to be a message both in the object and where he'd placed it.

[Haeli]

Haeli watched the raccoon carefully. She knew they were vicious fighters and forest clowns all rolled into one. In fact they could climb better than a snake and held no fear of the world around them. As a morpher she would have studied the raccoons form and taken it, but their sizes did not match up. Someday she'd be able to make herself smaller and thus borrow his shape, but until then a raccoon weighing over a hundred pounds and holding all her body mass would simply just not blend in like she wished when taking other shapes. When she lit the fire, Haeli could tell the raccoon had a bad moment. He was a brave thing, but fear flashed in his eyes as if experiencing an old memory. The witch paid attention to detail. It was an ability that kept her alive in the swamps and one that allowed her to notice little things; things like fear. "We could have eaten them raw. I wouldn't have minded. Well, the legs at least. I don't so much like the bodies. Not enough meat really there, you know?" She offered, gently stirring up the fire which was just now getting going. Her accent was strange, definitely not from Lhavit or even the surrounding Unforgiven. People spoke regionally, often the Syliran holding eloquent speech while the desertbred Eyktol tended to fire off their words quickly. She spoke slowly, carefully, as if A blond strand of hair slipped forward escaping her braid and screening her face. She brushed it impatiently back, tucking it behind her ear. Her eyes remained on him, watchful, thoughtful. "You aren't a normal raccoon are you?" She asked softly. "I can't figure it out though. Were you a mage that got somehow trapped in your form? Ozantha told me that sometimes this could happen, but eventually your true form would return, in case you are worried. Ozantha was my mother. Well, not my real mother. I don't know who my parents were. I think they are dead though, along with the rest of the people that were on the ship. You see, she found me on the beach, washed ashore with the rest of the wreckage of a ship during the storms that plagued the coast years ago. She raised me in the swamp to the south of here, the Gyvaka. Recently she died. I missed people so I came here to be among them again. Only, I don't know anyone. I don't even really know how to be here. They wear shoes. I don't know anything about shoes, Raccoon." The last was rather cryptic, but she glanced down at her bare feet and wiggled her toes having never in her entire life worn shoes. People here wore shoes. She didn't even know how to make shoes. They looked to be made from leather and stitched with belts and gromets and all the things she didn't know how to get or use. Ozantha did all their sewing or traded for things premade. "I guess that's why I'm out here learning the land of Lhavit. Learning the land is much easier than learning its people." She added. "What are you doing out here?" Her question was polite and pitched in a tone that said he could answer it or not and either response would be welcomed. He wasn't a raccoon. Not exactly. Raccoons didn't act like this. They acted like raccoons. This one didn't, which was why she started talking to him like he was a person. And once she started, it was like she couldn't stop. With her question, he was digging around in his pack again. Pack? What in the world did a raccoon need with a pack? That reminded her, and she tucked the flint and steel back into its tiny bag and laid it by his pack for him. And then she picked up the doll. She cradled the doll for a moment, soothing its sooty yarn hair out of its eyes and studying it intently. "She's lovely." The girl said to Brig quietly even as she frowned at the ill treatment. "It looks like she's been through a lot. A fire maybe? If you'd like, I can clean her up for you, but not here. There's no soap here." Haeli said thoughtfully, looking at the doll then back at the raccoon. She closed her eyes for a moment, seemed to relax, and then opened her senses to the raccoon. The marked of Caiyha reached out and felt the symbol between her shoulderblades come to life. The twisting symbol poured power into the small frame it was etched on and Haeli in turn reached that power out to the raccoon. She didn't touch him, but then again she didn't need too. It made it easier sometimes, the communication, but in this place and time she had his full attention. Her mind brushed his, lightly, and a language filled his head that was both lyrical and peaceful. It was spoken in her voice and immediately the humanness in him was pushed aside. It wasn't a language for his sentience. It was a language for the creature within him. The raccoon part of him spoke it clearly even though no sounds came from his black lips. Haeli asked him gently, softly, bathed in Caiyha's power...<Who are you and do you need help?> Instinctively he knew he could answer the same way, silently, in the language of his mother - the mother of all animals in fact - the first language.

[Brig]

Brig had never met anyone like her before. Sure, he'd not met many humans in the scheme of things, even fewer that he’d spent much time with. Almost all of them in his human form. But unlike them, this woman seemed completely at ease here in the wilds, talking to him as if there were no boundaries at all between them. He knew enough though about others within the region to know that her speech was different than theirs and he’d cocked his head curiously while he watched her, while he’d seemed to take in every word she spoke. The fascination was enough that his reaction to the sight and smell of lit kindling was forgotten for the moment. He’d huffed once, just once as if an answer to what he was, or wasn’t. A raccoon, but at the same time, not. And no mage. But without words he couldn’t possibly explain himself. He’d ventured closer while she spoke and ended up against the log with his front paws braced on its top, and looked back at her with dark unblinking eyes while she talked about the woman she called her mother. How she’d been found, and how she’d recently died. She was not so unlike him, Brig thought and while his form wasn’t necessarily suited to a changing field of expressions, his posture as he dropped his muzzle down on his paws with uplifted eyes, seemed to suggest some sort of empathetic response. Some sort of melancholy. No, she wasn’t so different from him. He was out of sorts with his own new situation. And he was having a hard time himself, figuring just how to be. When she picked up the doll, he chattered back at her words. It sounded almost like a cat’s purr but more musical. She had his attention alright, but it still surprised him when her thoughts seemed to reach out and touch his. It wasn’t the act itself that was unfamiliar, it was communication he was well attuned to so far as the other creatures of the forest. But never with a human, not like this. He raised his head abruptly and blinked back at her. But didn’t back away. Still it took time to absorb the surprise. It meant that he could talk to her without shifting, without gestures, objects or even sounds. And in his eagerness he hopped up on the log, then rose up on his back haunches. ”My name is Brig,” he ventured. ”I’m a raccoon, but I’m not.” He was struggling. Not with the means to communicate, but how to communicate the concept of what he was. ”I’m not like the others. I’m also a man, but not like other humans either." It wasn't easy, trying to explain that his instincts were a raccoon’s, but his feelings and thoughts were as human as hers. "I can shift when I want, and be one or the other. But inside, I’m always both. I’m not a mage, I’m a Kelvic,” he said and watched her face for any sign that she was familiar with his kind. He worried then that he’d said too much, and settled back again on all fours. But still it was like a floodgate opening wide. It was the most he’d spoken in weeks. ”My mother and sister died too, in a fire. That was her doll.” He seemed to pause then and consider things. Time wasn’t something he kept track of by hours or minutes, or even by remembering to count the days. He only knew that he’d been traveling further away from what had been his home, and it was growing much colder than it was then. ”Not very long after the watchtowers turned red, I lost where I belonged.” It was true that he was completely at ease here in the wilderness. But it wasn’t the place he referred to, a much as he did his place in it. ”And I don’t care much for shoes either,” the Kelvic seemed to remark as an afterthought. And if he could have added a good natured, humorous leaning to his expression to take the edge off the melancholy, he surely would have.

[Haeli]

She let his words wash over her awareness. It wasn't hard to communicate like this, but it was painfully honest. There were no lies, no falsehoods, because they used words backed by feelings and intent shot through with the spirit of what was meant. It was a more precise language than any one spoken for each 'speaker' felt the other in a way that verbal interaction could never mimic. Her quiet concentration washed over him cluing him in to the sheer focus she used in listening. He felt her understanding and acceptance of his name and knew as soon as he had 'said' it that she liked it even if she'd never heard a name like it before. He also knew she'd never heard the term kelvic before because her contact felt unfamiliar and a little hesitant as he described the thing that he was. She accepted it as truth and also accepted that what he was indeed was something normal, just not something she'd ran across before. She wasn't afraid, only curious, and he sensed her feeling something akin to empathy or acceptance, as if a person shifting from a human to an animal or an animal shifting to the shape of a human wasn't indeed outside her scope of understanding. He was absolutely certain she was familiar with such things. And thus forewarned she was a lot less prone to be startled and scared. Haeli kept concentrating and her link with Brig via her mark's powers kept steady. It was something that wouldn't last, for sure, but something she could keep tapping to speak with him as long as she knew he wanted too. "I'm sorry about your family. No wonder you fear fire. It is a living thing, Brig, of that I am convinced. We are very careful of it in the swamp, and if it goes get away it doesn't burn long. Things are too wet. But I'm so sorry you lost your family because of it." Haeli stroked the doll again suddenly realizing the significance it had to Brig and why he kept it with him. "I bet you miss them terribly." She reached out then, because he was so close, and ran her fingers into his fur. Normally she wouldn't have touched something wild, not without that something inviting it, but his sadness touched her in ways she'd yet to be touched in her young life. He spoke of a watchtower and the moment he did so Brig knew she didn't know what one was. Just as he could tell she understood a human becoming a raccoon or a raccoon becoming a human, he knew she didn't know about other things. "We make our own places, Brig." She said abruptly, looking thoughtfully at him. "I'm trying to make a place here in Lhavit because I need to learn how to be a human like the rest of these humans. Something inside of me demands it. But I don't have any family either. Not anymore. I never really did have any. I think knowing someone in this city would be nice. Your sister was lucky to have you as a brother. I've always wanted one. I might have even had one at one time. I don't know for sure though. I'm... starting a place in Lhavit to grow wild plants and make medicines and perfumes out of. It's got a huge garden in the back with a very large tree shading it. It also has a lot of rooms. Would you like to stay with me for a while? It's next to the city wall so you can come and go as you please into the wilds. And I'd have someone to talk too, someone I know at least a little." She looked thoughtful, hesitant, and yet her fingers still touched his fur soothingly, stroking it between his shoulders where it was hard for a good coon to itch itself. "I can't replace your sister, nor your mother, just as you can't be Ozantha for me. But I could be a new one for you, a friend that is. Maybe even a sister." Haeli said softly, out in the open. She wasn't asking him for anything or expecting something of him. Instead, the feeling he got communicating with her was that she was offering instead to provide him with a place to regroup as long as he wanted it. It wasn't a selfless offer either. He knew she craved company. And he also knew, in that instant, that he knew more about people than she did, even though she was really good at hiding the fact that she was ignorant. In a crowd though, she'd stand out and make social mistakes. He could help her for he'd lived with people and knew them, even though he didn't know the people of this city. It was a good offer, but one he also knew she wouldn't be offended if he refused. Wild things belonged in the wild and he could tell that Haeli wasn't sure exactly where Brig's existence fit in. At length, after she'd given him a chance to answer, she asked another question. "Brig, I don't really know what a kelvic is." This he already knew, just by the way she'd reacted to what he said. "Can you tell me more about your people? How can you change shape without morphing? How can you do magical things without being magic?" She asked reluctantly. He could tell she wasn't sure if she should be asking and was afraid she'd offend him.