Open In the City of Blue Men

[Kyo]

OOCSo the way I like to do 'solos' is that I start an open thread and if nobody jumps in I just continue what I'm doing. That way other people have the opportunity to join in if they want. ^_^

8th of Spring, 515 AV

This day was different.

For a long time, he had left the city. Something... had been not right there. Not right at all. There had been bad feelings. Feelings like being scared when there was nothing to be be scared of, no predator or attack. Feelings like not liking the blue men in the city, and that's wasn't good, because Kyo wanted to like them. Feelings like not wanting to go outside, and his dogs had been bad like that too. Sister had not been Sister anymore, she had not been the same. Brother had not been Brother, and he had been dangerous. Snarling and angry and thirsty for blood and biting.

So they had left. It had taken a long time to see that it was the city that was bad. Outside the city, once the coyote had run a distance away, he had come back to himself. So had his dogs, shaking their heads and rubbing and rolling in the grass as if to get something foul from their fur. Getting close again... had brought the badness back. So they had stayed away, much as it made Kyo's heart ache to be alone again. They had stayed away.

Until now.

Kyo poked his head within the city gates. He had already gone human-form, since the last time they had swatted at him when he had been a coyote and told him he couldn't come in. Now he sniffed carefully, looking around. The tension was gone. The anger he had felt. That badness, whatever it had been... it wasn't here, not anymore. The young man smiled, putting a hand to his hair in relief, and limped quickly, tenderly into the city.

Walking was painful on two legs when one of them was hurt. As soon as he got far enough away from the gates he stepped to the side, wiggling out of his big scratchy shirt, and became coyote once more. The pile of clothing he nosed into a little heap in a corner, where he would find it again. Then he walked on, tail held low and wagging slightly, the limp easier now with four legs to help him move.

He started with the sniffing. A lot of the people were the blue men, what they called Akalak, and he wanted to learn each's scent. It was more than their own scent, though; by smelling them he could pick up the places they'd been or the other people they had been with, what they'd eaten or been around, sometimes how they were feeling, and many many many other things. He drifted along, snuffling his nose against the hard stone ground of the streets every once and a while, or against the other hard stone of the buildings.

The coyote needed to catch every scent in the city. That was more important than resting his hurt --and still bloody-- leg, or finding a new place to sleep at, now that he didn't have his old home any more, or even getting some food or water to fill his aching belly. He limped along and scented the air, and let the smells and the sounds of people wash over him.

His tail wagged slightly harder. He was so so glad to be back.

[Khida]

Stone covering the roads. Stone buildings blocking out the horizons. How had she ever been used to walking around in the midst of so much stone? Khida remembered not caring; she remembered simply seeing terrain as terrain, whether it was the rolling plains or the arid desert or the buildings of Ahnatep. It made her shoulderblades itch, now, to not see all of the sky. She could fix that, of course: simply shift, and fly above the city. But that would defeat the purpose of being here.

The Kelvic had dressed for the city, of course -- her tan wrap-shirt, brown trousers, leather shoes. She wore her cloak, as the early spring air remained cool, and her backpack to carry things; but she had not come with weapons, because she was not here to hunt. Although trying to make sense of the map in her hand felt much the same -- like trying to make sense of a thin trail and follow it to a den.

She stood now in the middle of a crossroads, studying the script on the bit of parchment. It didn't help that Khida didn't even know what she wanted; or rather, she knew what she wanted but not what the people of this city would call it. She wasn't even sure that all the writing on this paper was in Common -- some of it seemed all but impossible for her to sound out.

Weary of puzzling out the document, Khida lowered it and shook herself. Enough of that. She found herself looking at a great cylindrical tower at the apparent end of one road, all covered in blue-green stone. The great crystal at the top, green with the season, designated it a watchtower. It wasn't quite like the one in Ahnatep, and yet it was recognizably the same. It was also distinctly unlike the other towers in the city, of which there seemed to be several.

Turning to take another look at her surroundings, Khida found her eye caught by a far more unusual sight: a coyote. It was not a dog, not with that build, that narrow muzzle and large pointed ears, that distinctively reddish cast to its pelt. She knew coyotes, not least because they thieved from her traps at times. Yet she could never remember seeing one in the city -- any city. Not even in the thick of Endrykas, which was much less thick than this place.

Canting her head, Khida observed his progress, her regard direct and unsubtle. The coyote meandered along the street much like a dog might, sniffing at whatever seemed to have caught his interest -- streets, walls, the drifts of the air. She saw that he favored one leg, which she allowed might be enough reason to take shelter in a city, if one was so inclined. It just didn't quite compute for her that a coyote would be so inclined... unless, of course, it wasn't a wild coyote at all.

Yes. A Kelvic coyote made sense.

Satisfied with that conclusion, provisional though it was, Khida peered back down at the map in her hands and breathed out a sigh. She kept one eye on the coyote out of caution's habit, even as she resumed moving slowly down the road, associating the marks on the paper with the realities of the city around her.

Common | Pavi | someone else

[Kyo]

The coyote was just in the process of sniffing at the doorway of one of the buildings when he caught a new scent: the strong smell of bird. He paused, his hind leg lifted from the ground to ease its aching, turning his head. The canine scented the air again, tilting his face up, because of course the bird would be in the sky... but no. There were no birds up there. His ears swiveled on his head searching for birdsong, or the sound of flapping wings. Nothing. So he followed the new scent with his nose. This was not the scent he had been looking for, not at all... but it was distracting. His stomach growled.

He had eaten bird before, him and his dogs. Catching birds was difficult, though not the eggs which just sat in the nest waiting for someone big and hungry to come along, like little treats. And they were not hard to catch when they were young still and without their feathers and flying wings. Big birds, though, full-grown and flying... that was much more of a challenge. Kyo could remember bothering one such creature once, nipping at it, and then the bird bothering him with its beak and talons for a long time after, following him as he skulked away into the underbrush. He didn't want that to happen now. And yet. He was very hungry.

The coyote drifted across the street, following his nose more than his eyes, and eventually wandered up near a woman's feet, within kicking distance. She looked human. And yet, sniffing around her, she was most definitely the source of the bird-smell. The coyote smelled her for a second longer, taking in the scent, and there was human-smell on her as well, along with a myriad others. She smelled of the Grass outside the gates, though it was fading. And many other curious things. He titled his head, ears forward in interest and alert.

He remembered another bird-person, though that one had been a man and his scent, though somewhat like this female's, had been different as well. He had smelled like a different type of bird, perhaps. Though not too different. His Brother had wanted to eat the man. Kyo didn't think he would be able to eat this woman, though. She was big prey in this form, even if she did smell like bird. And he didn't know if he wanted to eat something that looked human.

Instead he wagged his tail slightly at her. Another thing that made her look human, going against her bird-smell: she was holding one of those human-made things, and he did his best to scent that as well. There was Akalak-smell on it. And the thing also smelled, only very faintly, of the Grass. More strongly of the area of the city near the gates. It was one of those scrolls that the blue men gave to those who entered the city. Kyo had had one, though he didn't know where it had gone to. It had not been something of much interest to him, full of those human-form markings, the squiggles and pictures that Kyo could not make sense of. His boy had tried to teach him those long ago, but they had not gotten far.

The human-form bird had been looking at it, as the coyote had seen many people do. They used it for something, usually while looking around. The coyote thought their noses would be much better, more useful, if they wanted to find things, as noses were just as strong or stronger than eyes, especially in a place like this where the buildings blocked most of the city from sight. But maybe they liked looking around as they did. They must, because many visitors in the city did such things.

Throughout this thinking, the coyote had taken to trailing the bird-woman, following not quite by her side, not quite behind, tail still wagging. He had decided not to try to eat her, especially since his dogs weren't here to help and his leg was still hurting. The smell of the Grass on her skin attracted him to her in this place where the smells were so less gentle and natural. Should she look over at him, he would wag his tail harder and open his mouth in a grin, though not a baring of teeth. He looked at the scroll of markings in her hands and tilted his head slightly, as if asking what do you need that for? Perhaps she would take it and tear it and put it in a nest, if she was the nesting type.

[Khida]

The sense of being watched hung with her, though it took Khida a few ticks to register that the coyote was not only drifting nearer in his rambling, but that it was specifically her scent he was pursuing. She couldn't miss that fact when he came up to her feet, the Kelvic woman slowing to a complete stop, regarding him just as much as he regarded her. The coyote cocked his head in a way that suggested curiosity rather than menace, a curiosity that Khida echoed in her own posture and in the mirroring cant of her head.

Greeting, she offered, in cautious but willing-to-be-amiable sign. He did nothing else but wag his tail at her, what Khida took as an amiable greeting in return. She was all right with that, and with continued proximity given his evident attitude, so resumed her progress down the street. The coyote tagged along, his claws clicking on the pavement in a rhythmic pattern which complemented her strides. She glanced towards him often as they walked, wondering what had brought the coyote to attach himself to her. Was she curious? Perhaps. It seemed evident that her scent had drawn him, but Khida didn't have much detailed awareness of how she smelled, being more oriented to sight -- not to mention that it was hers, and so by definition familiar in her paradigm.

He seemed to give the parchment in her hand a pointed look, one Khida wasn't quite sure how to interpret. She glanced towards the thing herself, then shrugged her shoulders, offering resignation and the state of being finished in the shape of her posture. The map, she tucked away, adding not good help for the coyote's benefit. Or not for his benefit, perhaps, as she had yet to hear or see Pavi being used anywhere except around the visiting Drykas. If the coyote was of this city, he probably had even less knowledge of the language than she. But habit prevailed.

Her hands now made free, Khida offered one towards the canid, fingers loosely curled under. He manifestly already had her scent, and didn't 'need' to sniff again, but perhaps he would recognize it as the overture it was meant to be. At any rate, it seemed appropriate to offer towards a city coyote who might be Kelvic. She would scratch his fur, too, if he seemed so inclined -- but only if he initiated actual contact.

Common | Pavi | someone else

[Kyo]

It wasn't long before the bird-woman was done with the human-thing, and tucked it away, out of sight. She hadn't seemed to find where she was going, and though she was not human the coyote still felt the want to help. Though she didn't speak as humans do, she did make a strange hand-shape at him with some of her fingers. This he looked at, but didn't know, tail still swinging lightly back and forth. Maybe it was a human-form thing that he hadn't learned yet, though he now knew that they liked to touch hands as a greeting.

Speaking of greetings. The bird-woman stopped and held out a hand to him. The coyote sat on his haunches --carefully tucking his bad back leg under him so the injury didn't pull or sting-- and looked at her hand. He hoped there was food there, but there wasn't, it was empty. Instead, he snuffled at it with his wet nose. He was still having trouble telling if she was bird or woman. She seemed woman, but her scent was distinctly bird. She seemed even more woman when he held out his head and her fingers scratched into his fur, petting how the human-forms often liked to do. Not that the coyote didn't like it. As her hand patted his fur he closed his eyes and thumped his tail against the ground.

It was as this was happening that he realized what it all meant, and who she must be came into place in his mind. He opened his eyes again, looking up at her. She was human-form but animal. She was like him. Only she was bird, not coyote.

That other bird-person he had scented, that male, he must have been another like the coyote too, though he didn't remember if he had realized that at the time. They had been busy. There had been a fight. The coyote had also met some snake-ones called Iyvess, but somehow that had been different, they had not been like him. Those ones had been in three forms. Snake, not-snake-not-human, and human. They had smelled of the sea. Oh, and there had been another, he realized. The sun-girl, with the shining face and the curling horns upon her head. She had not been animal, but not human. Also different than him. She had been something other, and almost too pretty to bear. Like looking at the sun in the sky.

Now that he understood what this person was he wagged his tail harder, and nuzzled her hand in greeting. It was odd to think that he would do such a thing to a bird, but then she wasn't exactly a bird, either. He had met others of his kind but not many, not since he was a pup. Being in the wild there were not ones like him there. Not that he had seen, at least. He remembered being alone, so lonely, and thought that was probably why his kind had not been there. Because he would rather be with the humans, and the ones like him that he remembered in that cold place far away, they had been like him in that way, too. They had always wanted to be with humans too, or at least human-forms.

He wondered if this one had a human-form of her own. Like his lost boy. But she appeared to be alone. So maybe not? Or maybe hers was lost too.

Oh. Maybe she was looking for her bonded now. Maybe hers was nearby. Lost, but in the city of the blue men. The coyote abruptly took to his feet, then if she let him stepped forward to catch the scents buried in the folds of her clothes. There were many, and he picked out a few faded ones that must have been people, overridden by the scent of the grass and wind outside.

There was one that seemed male and human-type, stronger than the others, and another --or more?-- maybe female and human-type. Maybe a couple others besides those as well, but very faint and somewhat foreign so he couldn't tell what was what. Most of the scents were faint, like they had not directly touched the clothing, but he wasn't certain if that was right or if perhaps time had faded them.

There was more than just human-smells, but also the strong smell of horses, and maybe some sort of cat? And the smell of the outside world, of course, like he had thought before. Outside this city. The bird-woman might be a newcomer. Perhaps the city had separated her from her bonded, if that was who or what she was looking for.

The coyote took to sniffing the air again, this time for the stronger scent of the male he had discovered on her clothing. He could follow it back the way she'd come from... but he was looking for another scent trail, not the woman's. If he found it, he would follow it that way. As for the bird-woman... the coyote would stop and look over his shoulder at her, to see if she was following. If she didn't, he would retreat back to her feet and then start in the scent-direction again, to see if she wanted to come along.

[Khida]

The maybe-Kelvic coyote seemed to appreciate being scratched, if the closing of his eyes and the thwap of his tail were any indication. They seemed like good indications. He then looked up at her with what seemed to be surprise, ears perked, gaze wide and direct. But Khida wasn't sure if that was the right interpretation -- maybe not, since she couldn't imagine what he was surprised at. He proceeded to nudge her hand, perhaps because her scratching of his ruff had slowed. Willing enough to oblige, she resumed working her fingers through his fur -- until he abruptly stood and buried his nose in her clothes.

That gave Khida a start, the Kelvic woman rocking back on her heels. But there was no feeling of teeth, no forceful lunge or pull, just the noisy whuffles of a canine intent upon taking in scents. She held stock-still while he sniffed, wary caution shading into tentative acceptance, though she kept her hands up and her weight balanced as if she were a bird poised for flight. Which she very nearly was.

And still nothing happened.

Nothing significant, at any rate. But apparently her scent on the air really hadn't been clear enough for him... nor even the scent of her hand. Khida supposed she would have to remember that, if she ever had dealings with canids in the future. If nothing else, to keep from being surprised when the next one lunged in to investigate her clothes.

Ultimately, the coyote turned his attention from her to the drifting air, nose working, his manner seeming intent. Searching. It was entirely opaque to Khida what he thought to search for... but it became clear in short order that he expected her to come along. The glance over his shoulder, the full stop accompanying it; anyone could recognize that as the intent to lead, the desire to be followed.

This coyote was a curious one... and her curiosity remained piqued. Having straightened up as he moved away, Khida now followed at a comfortable distance, keeping one eye on the coyote and one on the rest of the street's traffic. She had not the faintest idea what the coyote was about... but she couldn't see any harm in finding out, either. And he was interesting.

Khida space Common | Pavi
other space Common | Pavi

[Kyo]

The coyote wandered through the streets, nails clicking against stone. As he went his face turned from side to side, nose working. Sometimes he would catch a scent like one of the ones that he had smelled on the bird-woman's clothing, and he would stop, inhaling deeper. At those times he would lift his hind leg from the ground; it was hurting him more and more as he walked, the limp getting worse. Rest would be good, but the coyote did not want to rest. He wanted to find the origin of the scents.

It seemed each of the scents he caught were not the right ones, however. There was one that smelled somewhat like the strong male scent he had collected, but the layers of it were all wrong. There was human-scent and horse, yes, but he didn't think it was the right horse; a smell like cloth but stronger, and the leather-skin of animals, and maybe those were close to the one he was looking for; a smell of certain plants, but just not the right mix, too sweet like flowers where the bird-woman's scent-one was more earth and spice. The coyote shook his head, sneezing, and limped on.

He thought it was like swimming in a deep slow-moving river. He wanted just the right drop of water to find the tip of his nose so that he might follow its course, but there were many many many drops, and that made things difficult. Some of the drops were somewhat like the one he was looking for, but none of them, at least in this area, seemed to be exactly quite the same. So the coyote kept moving, kept searching, something he was very familiar with.

It was as he was passing by a certain building that a new scent clung to his nose, and though he shook out his fur he could not get rid of it. The coyote paused, tongue panting out, and turned his head towards the source.

It was a building, and as he looked at it, nose snuffling in the new scent, his stomach rumbled like a thunderstorm, his mouth watering. The new scent was food. Human-form food it smelled like, not prey, but still food.

Torn by his burning belly but also his want to continue on, the coyote turned to look at the bird-woman, then at the door to the building. Someone came out, not one of the blue men but some other, and with it came a waft of fresh scent and a brush of warm air. It was difficult to find the scent he was looking for amid all these others, especially when the others seemed so tasty. The coyote approached the door, then stopped to look at the bird-woman again, who had followed him all this time. Perhaps she, too, was hungry. Or perhaps her bonded would be in this food-building... though of course the coyote had to tuck his tail a little at that. But maybe they could take a quick look and see, and if not then they could choose if they wanted to stay and eat or leave. Of course, the coyote could not open the way into the building. So it would be up to the bird-woman, if she was interested in going inside. If not, the coyote would carry on, though he would give a sad look to the door before he left.

[Khida]

The coyote walked on through the streets, nose raised to the drifting air, and the falcon Kelvic followed. He paused from time to time, whuffling at some scent Khida could not herself detect. Her merely human nose smelled only the city -- the conglomeration of scents from the sea and shore, from the people, from food and perfume and horses and dogs and more other things than she could ascribe identities to. It was ever-changing, yet it was also always the same, a morass of detail all muddled together. Whatever he found eluded her -- and by that token, it also remained a mystery what he was looking for in the first place.

Another time, though, he stopped and cast a glance towards one particular building, a glance whose significance even Khida could not miss. A glance through a window showed her tables of obvious purpose, and the opening of the door strengthened scents even her nose could detect, giving them a source to be associated with; the air smelled of ale, of long-cooked stew, of roasting meat and baking bread. A tavern.

Khida couldn't imagine what scent on her person would lead the coyote here, to a place bounded by stone walls and divided from the sky by a roof. Perhaps she had been wrong about the coyote's intentions, the purpose of his search; perhaps he only wanted to eat. Perhaps he was a poor hunter, and lived by scavenging others' kills -- or whatever they happened to leave unguarded.

He continued to wait before the door while she mused, regarding her steadily, his ears perked with expectant interest, his tail lowered in some sentiment she could not assign meaning to. It took Khida long moments to realize he was waiting for her, and moments more for her to stare at him and wonder why he didn't simply shift; a door was no obstacle, not when they could have hands at will. She blinked at him, uncertain surprise shading her manner. Perhaps he wasn't Kelvic at all -- indeed, it seemed that all of her earlier conclusions were now cast into doubt.

Khida looked to the door herself, weighing the enticement of a meal against the weight of the building's fixed boundaries, against the evident futility of her own traversal of the city. She could stand to sit down for a few chimes, to regroup and to refuel. Yes, she signed towards the coyote, decision followed in short order by the action of stepping up to the door and opening it for them both to pass through.

Within the tavern, though, Khida froze, her attention snared by the unexpectedly striking sense of dead air -- of atmosphere devoid of motion, deprived of any meaningful connection to the greater sky. She turned her gaze upward, staring at the shadowed corners of the ceiling, that solid expanse which definitively capped the room. The buildings she had known before had been built to encourage ventilation, the transit of air taking heat along with it. Here, scents did not disperse; sounds bounced off the walls and added themselves right back into the general clamor. Fortunately, it was only midday; there were not so many people that the space was entirely filled with noise, nor the tables filled with people. It was not enough to send the Kelvic into immediate retreat, although she nonetheless remained caught just within the entrance, thinking about that very hard. She could get lunch somewhere else...

...except...

...there was food already right here. Khida could smell it, see it on the occupied tables, all but taste it herself -- and just that simple proximity sufficed to amplify hunger.

She could put up with the building for the length of a meal, surely.

Khida space Common | Pavi
other space Common | Pavi

[Kyo]

The coyote didn't have to wait long for the bird-woman's decision. She paused for a little bit, then stepped forward with an outreached hand, and opened the door. Another wave of scent hit the canine in the nose and in the stomach, and he curled his tail slightly as his mouth watered, before clicking from the dull stone street onto the polished floor.

The sound of talking and the clicking of those things human-forms used for eating --knife and fork, plate, cup his human-mind whispered-- caused him to break open his mouth in a dog grin, and he padded further into the building, tail wagging so hard that it made its own sound in the air. He loved people. He loved them so much, much more than anything else in the world. So long he had gone without being around them. Now, being in this place, his heart felt so full that he could have laid on the floor and stayed until night, just listening and watching them all. He wouldn't, not when he still had to help the bird-woman, but perhaps he would come again to this place, and see if he might stay.

He was so happy to be in this place with these people that it was after the canine had taken quite a few limping steps into the building that he saw the bird-woman had stopped. The coyote, curious, shuffled to turn so that he might see what she was doing.

The woman had frozen in the doorway, and though he had long learned to read human faces he could not tell what she was now feeling or why she had stopped. The stiff lines of her body showed caution, he thought, or perhaps wariness, reluctance? He took a step back towards her, ears perked as he tried to read the sound of her breath, and he sniffed but found he was unable to catch the tone of her emotions from her scent, since it had been lost in all the rest.

Maybe she had changed her mind. The coyote, who had been grinning with a panting open mouth, stopped and put his ears slightly back, then crossed to the bird-woman's side and pressed his fur soft against her leg, looking up at her. If she did not want to stay then they did not have to stay, no matter how good it smelled or how his stomach was rumbling and aching. The coyote was just so used to wanting to please human-forms; even though this one was different, was a bird, she still looked human, and that was enough to make him want her to be happy. So he waited by her side for what might happen next. If she looked back at him, he would wag his tail slightly to encourage her, whatever it was she wanted.

[Khida]

A warm, firm pressure against her leg caused Khida to look down; she found the coyote there, in what seemed a gesture of support, his ears angled back but the edge of his tail brushing from side to side. Was he concerned for her? She reached down to scratch his ruff in silent appreciation of his evident consideration. Her free hand signed dead wind in some semblance of explanation, a hint of apology shading the motion.

Straightening, Khida drew in a deep breath -- one heavily infused with the tastes of alcohol and food and people, with humidity and woodsmoke and the palpable verve of so many lives tucked into so small a space -- we continue, she added. The gesture included the coyote, since he had brought her here, and now seemed to desire her continued stay. Under the curious gaze of the bartender and not a few other patrons, Khida moved towards an empty table, seating herself where she could see both the door and a window. All she could see through the window was another building and the occasional passing head-and-shoulders of pedestrians, but it was a continuous reminder that enclosed space though it was, there were exits readily available.

Once seated, one of the tavern's waitstaff veered over, a woman with dark hair and low-cut blouse and welcoming smile. She glanced towards the coyote, then addressed Khida. "You drink wine, ale, broth? Good wine here, city special." She spoke reasonable Pavi, much to Khida's surprise; she had expected to hear Common, as from so many others in the city. The question about drinks... was a good question. When was the last time she had bought anything of the sort? "What is the first thing, the wine?" the Kelvic asked, choosing to use Common in the expectation of a more involved response.

The waitress didn't so much as bat an eyelash at the change of language. "Wine, or wine, is a drink made from grapes. It's one of Riverfall's best products. Shall I bring you some?" She spoke more smoothly, clearly more familiar with Common than with the language of the Drykas. "If you'd like lunch as well, we have roast pork with new onions, and a fish stew."

The word fish immediately caught Khida's attention. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten fish any more than she could recall her last drink of ale. Fish just wasn't something she had much opportunity to hunt. Fish, emphatic yes, the Kelvic's hands expressed before her mind even framed the words, never mind directed her mouth to speak. The waitress laughed good-naturedly. "Fish stew it is."

oocThe NPC is no-one particular, just one of the generic staff alluded to in the location writeup. Feel absolutely free to choreograph her interactions with Kyo and otherwise use her as you see fit.

Khida space Common | Pavi
other space Common | Pavi