Awaken, Foreign Wind

[Quiet]

34th Trial of Vhalar, Arc 718


Signing
"Signing while speaking"
"Speaking"

Morning wind licked the back of Quiet’s neck delicately, softly, encouraging him to arise from his slumber prematurely.

His eyes flickered, and, before he had even the opportunity to focus his vision through flitted eyes, he recognized something he had not at all expected to recognize, and in fact had not the opportunity to remember in far too long.

Home.

The sweet scent of homeward winds carried itself on the wind. He knew it couldn’t be true; there was nothing that could replicate the smell of New Haven. Fresh soil, salt water, lingering aromas of roasted salmon from the night prior. Home was home and nothing could replicate it to the stunning degree that Quiet was currently experiencing. He knew it was the wind urging him to awaken.

He squinted through sleep-infested eyes, the long strands of grass surrounding him obstructing his vision slightly, dew gently rubbing on his nose as he began to look around.

The sky was dark, still. The last few stars persisting before dawn speckled partial light upon the boy.

Slowly, he pushed his way up, careful not to disturb those still asleep, the wind pushing him from the campgrounds into the woods nearby. He knew it immediately. He watched the grass beneath his feet, checking for any signs of significant movement, and did not see any. The wind called for him.

Quiet looked around him. Anya, typically not an early riser, was thankfully still asleep. He flicked his finger in her direction, gently encouraging the air to slide the blanket loosely draped on her torso over her shoulder. He leaned down, retrieving his quarterstaff from the ground where he slept.

Desnind was close. They had been travelling for a good while; longer than Quiet had ever travelled before. The winds had begun to shift, and the exceptionally unwelcoming environment of Quacia had long since shifted to greener scenery, and Quiet was now lucky enough to travel through the lush ecology further East of the hellish city in which he made his introduction into Idalos.

He reaffirmed his grip on the quarterstaff, looking towards where the sun would rise, when came its time.

He could feel the wind becoming stronger on his back, pushing him ever forward, obviously irritated at Quiet’s insistence on stationary existence.

He leaned back against the wind as he moved forward through the open grass field towards the forest, making sure to lift his quarterstaff from the ground as he walked, as to create as little a disturbance as humanly possible, in an effort to avoid waking his compatriots.

But the wind was relentless.

Pushing him as hard ass possible as Quiet walked, as so that Quiet nearly lost his balance a fair many times, forcing him to lean back against the wind to maintain balance.

But as soon as he was far enough from camp?

Quiet let the wind take him.

That same saccharine wind encouraged feet, glossy with morning dew, fly flawlessly through the open green pasture, waves appearing in the deep brushes of grass as that same wind that pushed Quiet towards the ever-approaching forest made themselves apparent. And Quiet, despite himself, smiled.

His staff, held tightly in his fist, flew at his side, as a man ran, formless and graceless, childlike, through the grass which wet his shins so delicately. And, as he reached that border between the field and forest, between the grass and the deep wood, be bounded, the air assisting his leap ever so subtly, as so that Quiet could reach a branch on the nearest tree of considerable size. Quickly, and without hinge or hesitation, Quiet threw himself, from limb to arboreal appendage, to the peak of the tree, turning back to note where the campsite was. After committing it to memory, he looked forward, over the canopy of unfamiliarity that laid before him. He was at considerably equal height with those trees closest, and was able to peek above them just so delicately as to experience the greenery as if he were staring out upon an open ocean.

The wind smelled of sea and soil.

And he knew something awaited him beyond the precipice of that green canopied sea.

[Quiet]

Signing
"Signing while speaking"
"Speaking"

It wasn’t home.

He would never pretend it would be.

The world he had seen thus far was diverse in itself, diverse in its breath and its features, diverse in its appearance and diverse in the way it interacted with Quiet.

Diverse in its parallels and separations from the home Quiet knew.

The leaves here were not the leaves Quiet knew. Rounder, flatter, thinner - multicolored, brittle. Most shone with that same bright green, and that green spoke of a home in a sea far from the land where he planted his feet. The trunks were thicker, shorter. The land was so much more than it was on New Haven. New Haven was small, easy to comprehend. Town, the peak of the largest hill, and the surrounding forest. Everything else was the ocean. The land here, however, seemed to stretch on forever. Even this canopy - this sea of emerald beauty - seemed to move and bend past horizons Quiet hadn’t yet been imaginative enough to define in earnest.

He had become a roaming pilgrim of indeterminate and wild destination. A destination he would never be able to predict, and a journey he wouldn’t be able to forget.

He was tired of not experiencing it.

He noted the way the wind was blowing in relation to his camp with Anya. A practice he’d learned in order to not lose himself in the expanse of the world he found himself in. He could rely on his own sense of direction which, after having lived in Quacia and explored its wilderness, had become developed out of necessity. Fitting, now, that a skill he had once learned for the purpose of survival - for escaping the nature of Quacia, demented and violent - he now used for indulgent exploration, for immersion into this new and unfamiliar world.

He pounded from his spot, leaping to the next limb of a tree in front of him, barely able to grasp onto the trunk to steady himself, as well as keep a grip on his quarterstaff. As soon as his footing was solidified, however, he moved again, gripping the trunk before moving out on its branches to repeat the pattern with the next tree. This time, however, his swing was aimed downwards, swinging his staff over it and grabbing it by both ends, so that Quiet was suspended from the ground, his staff pulling on the lib above. Swiftly, he released his grip, tumbling lightly to the forest floor and continuing his jog on more agreeable terrain. He desired greatly to stretch his legs as close to the sky above, but it seemed as if his heart would always desire and his knees would never quite allow him to jump so high.

Unfortunately, this was a much easier method of travel. His feet were reliable with a more consistent domain. Perhaps the occasional rock or root would appear before a step was taken, which Quiet would tactfully bound off of, bouncing on his souls with excited vigor. Long step by energetic, long step, he traversed unfamiliar but forgiving terrain. Endlessly, it seemed, did the fallen pines from above evergreens pass under his peripheral vision on the forest floor created a soft brown blur.

Having travelled for a short while, and made curious of distance made, Quiet decided to climb up one of the trees once more, bounding up the trunk with speed great enough, perhaps subconsciously aided by an unseen aerial hand, that neither of his two feet need be removed from the process, effectively running up the body, and reemerging at the top.

He peered out above the trees, turning around, and noting the wind once more to relocate his camp. He looked behind him - the actual location hidden by trees and distance, but the direction clear. That was all Quiet realistically needed, and, with curiosity more or less sated, he turned back to that horizon.

Closer to him, now, was a small hill, maybe a half mile from his current location. He looked at it, having decided on a location for him to explore. He watched as two kestrels flew from the hill’s foliage away from Quiet’s location, and his eyes were drawn to the distance behind that hill, which looked far more overgrown and mountainous than the rest of Quiet’s surroundings. As he was observing the hills surrounding him, the initial hill seemed to shift slightly, and a few more birds flew from it. Quiet squinted his eyes in its direction, his curiosity certainly piqued, and resigned himself to discovery.

At once, he fell from the tree, allowing the air to deliver him safely to the ground, and he was met immediately with the face of a fauna unknown.

[Quiet]

Signing
"Signing while speaking"
"Speaking"


Quiet looked up at it from his crouched position on the forest floor. He, now, was perhaps two and a half feet from the forest floor, three if one was generous. Standing, Quiet was perhaps six feet tall if he remembered his posture.

This entity was easily eight feet tall.

Quiet initially saw only its lower half - four legs, inverted knees, like those of a buck, covered completely in a thick, brown bark. Its body was large and round, its torso thick and solid. It had no tail, and its form met a rather abrupt end, curved and blunted around the back area where its farther thighs connected to its body. Quiet looked up towards its head, finding a large head completely comprised of that same bark. Its face as flat and seemingly featureless as the front of a wide tree.

Quiet sprung up, jumping back, readying his quarterstaff in case combat became imminent. To his surprise, the creature sprung back as well, mutually surprised by the situation at hand.

Both froze. Quiet stared at it with harmless curiosity, though still tensing his reactions in the event that the creature becomes hostile, intending no hostility himself, however. It stared back. Or, perhaps it did. The regions of its visage where Quiet would have expected eyes to have been was faced towards him. It held itself back, one hoof raised above the ground, in case it needed to flee.

Slowly, with heavy hesitation, its hoof lowered to the ground, lowering with it the guard of the creature. Quiet, in response, dragged his back foot upwards, straightening his knees and standing upright, his staff at his side.

The interactions with the creature felt as if they were interactions with a child. Uneasy, uncertain, but enthusiastic, curious. And as the beast strode forwards on wobbly knees, its feet struggling to repeat the pattern necessary to walk, struggling slightly to perform the foot-by-foot task. It stepped towards Quiet, reaching him in only one or two steps. It circled him, as if it were sniffing him, inspecting him as animals do. It made its full rotation, its face now close to Quiet’s, where Quiet could see a plethora of seedlings, sprouting from the cracks in the bark of its visage. He noticed that as the creature strode, its movements were as wary and shaky as the movements of those seedlings as they shifted in the wind. He, now acutely aware of his passive tendency to call the wind around him, requested for it to stop moving for a spell, just to see how the creature reacted.

It backed up in surprise and confusion and, if Quiet hadn’t known better, perhaps he would have said a bit of glee. It turned its head towards Quiet in a different way now, as if it could see him clearer. Suddenly, its once blank face opened countless slits, countless little eyes, glowing a bright yellow, precisely like that of the sun. It bathed him in warm light, but so bright that Quiet’s first instinct was to block that light with his palm, allowing himself the ability to see, unblinded.

It stood still, its head covered in countless multidirectional pupil-less eyes, shooting out glowing rays in every conceivable possible direction, the blunt of which focused on Quiet. It would have seen Quiet shield himself, initially, but then, perhaps exclusively from curiosity, peer beyond his shielding arm. Only slightly, at first, but finding no harm in the bright gaze, lowering it completely. He gazed back, his vision not nearly as bright as the beast’s, but present nevertheless.

Its eyes closed, and Quiet’s vision became blurry with oversaturation. In that daze, the creature pressed its forehead against Quiet’s, towering down to do so. As Quiet’s vision returned, it pulled away, leaving mossy bits and an imprint of bark on his skin. It turned, and it began to bound away, in the direction Quiet initially wanted to travel. He, thinking it best to leave it to its own devices and disturb it no longer, simply watched it run, content to the short interaction he had already been lucky enough to experience. When it, only about twenty feet away, stopped in its tracks, and turned towards Quiet, seemingly expecting the man to follow.

Quiet was happy to oblige.

[Quiet]

Signing
"Signing while speaking"
"Speaking"

Once more, Quiet’s soles bounded against the forest floor, formless and graceless, childlike and excited, this time, however, the young man was graced with the companionship of more than just the wind at his back. The calf bounded on legs just as excited as he, and it seemingly knew the best path to its destination before having set out initially. Quiet, on the other hand, weaved in between trees, avoiding collision.

The creature, at first, seemed to slow itself, to allow Quiet to keep up. Considerate. Quiet had noticed, and noted how peculiar the behavior of this particular animal was. He had met hounds and pups, creatures who existed in tandem with men, and evolved alongside them behaviorally. This being, however, spoke to a bestial part of Quiet. The part of him which aligned him with the world around him rather than with the individuals he shared the world with. This being was a creation as pure as the ground it strode on. It felt like the world personified; kind and loving, gentle and massive.

It peered over at Quiet, and Quiet peered back, keeping visual contact as they both ran.

This time, Quiet took the invitation as it was.

He made a diagonal cut over to the creature, running side by side with it, bounding off of a nearby tree trunk, assisted by the wind, leaping onto the creature’s back, straddling its torso with his thighs, holding his quarterstaff behind his body, his hand placed gently on the animal’s helm. It bounded furiously, tirelessly, and the wind on Quiet’s face loved the moment. He felt as if the wind, that morning, pointed him towards this end. He felt as if destiny existed only for him and this beast.

Gently, slowly, holding onto the creature’s head with a sure grip, he rode himself upwards on its back, moving his knees up its sides before being able to hop up, standing on his feet, balancing on its shoulders and back hips.

The creature picked up speed, letting loose a howl of sorts. It sounded as if four or more voices left its form, a small, wailing chorus, sounding like the call of an adolescent moose. As soon as the sound left its mouth, many more just like it could be heard throughout the forest.

In an instant, three other creatures, precisely like the one Quiet rode, came from the brush, seemingly from no where, each of them larger than the one Quiet had met. One just about a head taller, one as tall as Quiet as he stood on the animal’s back and, when Quiet looked to his left, he became aware of the pounding of the earth, a beast which just barely glanced above the treetops ran with them, its antlers visible above the canopy.

Quiet let loose a cry, formless and bestial, howling for joy above the volume of rushing wind and the thundering herd. Almost instantaneously, every other beast joined him in the cry, that same chorus ringing out above the treetops.

As the sound faded but the excitement multiplied, Quiet found himself, in spite of himself, laughing, grinning, making sounds of glee he had not made in far too long.

He howled and whinnied, joining his voice in the bestial auditory amalgamation, making himself as close to one with the small herd as he could.

Soon, he could clearly see before him, a small clearing. He immediately recognized it as the hill; his initial goal. Today truly was a fortunate day.

As they reached it, the being he had bonded with halted, and Quiet tumbled deftly from its back and over its head. Landing in the clearing, while the small pack of beasts stood, politely, at the border between the clearing and the forest. Quiet turned to them, searching for any indication, any warning, any hints as the ones he had previously been given. He turned the other way, and found himself met with the oddest sort of thing. He had met the hills, yes, but the hills were far more peculiar than he could have guessed. They began abruptly, without incline. They were far more green than the rest of the forest, possessing no discernible floor. The trees which grew on the hills turned sideways, towards the young man.

He looked back at the beast he met for insight, but found none. Instead, the beast pranced forward, circling him in the clearing, making small beeps or honks instead of wailing cries. It was but a moment until the creature’s efforts were seemingly noticed.

[Quiet]

Signing
"Signing while speaking"
"Speaking"

The ground began to shake. Quiet had not yet learned its voice or the nature of its communication, but he was absolutely certain was not the time he would learn. No, it did not shake for him. It did not shake of its own accord.

It shook for another reason.

Quiet looked at the creature he had bonded with. Its senses were fixed exclusively on the hill before them. Quiet fixed on it as well, searching for what could possibly be so enticing to it that such close attention be paid.

Earlier he could have sworn he saw the hill shift. He thought it to be a trick of the eye, perhaps just a matter of perspective.

There was now no doubt of circumstance.

The hill rolled itself over, those sideways trees now facing upwards. Slowly, hooves, much like those of his companion, made themselves apparent, as a colossal being pushed itself from the earth, reaching for the skies, its hooves shooting out pounds and pounds of dirt in every direction, which flew around Quiet.

As the entity stood, and Quiet watched in awe, those beings, which Quiet now knew to be the calves of this massive creature, danced and rejoiced at their mother’s awakening. As it stood, Quiet soon realized, the other hills awoke as well, in distances that would take considerable effort for Quiet to traverse but a mere step for these creatures.

Quickly, he scrambled to find the nearest tree bordering the clearing. With one enthusiastic gust, he pushed himself up to the tree’s zenith for the hope of a better view.

And a better view, he received.

The creatures were indescribably massive. They were the ladders to the heavens. Their antlers scraped the sky, their spittle became stars and their breath became clouds.

There were two close to him. One to his right being the female he and his companion had awoken, presumably the mother of the calves. Then there was one to his left. A male. Behind them both, there were more. Not many, but enough for Quiet to now truly understand what a herd is.

That male, however, fixated on Quiet. It stared at him, expressionless, before kneeling down, bringing its head more or less on level with Quiet.

Slowly - like its child had earlier - it opened its eyes. Instead of many slits, the stag had just two, although they were incredibly massive. The eyes, which were large enough for Quiet to stand inside of two times over, opened, and Quiet had to immediately shut his eyes to protect them. Bright light shone through his eyelids, tainting the inner parts of his vision red.

The light faded as the eyes shut, the beast seemingly having identified Quiet. With that, Quiet was safe once again to open his own eyes.

The beast - the mountain on legs, great and massive - grumbled, airing its noise without opening its mouth.

It seemingly waited for Quiet’s response.

And, like he did while running through the forest with his new companion, he yelled back. He screamed, releasing breath held back by convention, held back by his manners, held back by his quiet.

When he had finished, the beast, the titan, looked at him. Quet looked back. The wind around him whispered of respect, of mutual understanding - and it was true. Quiet, in this short period of time, learned that there was no other animal in Idalos he had yet connected to as closely as these giants, the earth which walked on four legs.

The male stood, and his herd paid him attention. He glanced at his pack, and it was then that Quiet knew his time with these creatures had ended.

It let out a roar loud enough to shake the ground and rattle the trees, and its ilk returned the call in kind, a chorus alike what he had previously experienced with their calves in bulk.

Quiet dismounted from the tree, running to his companion. He approached her, intending to give her a meaningful farewell, but she had other plans.

Much like before, she circled Quiet for just a moment, before bounding off into the forest. Quiet, this time, was aware of how she telegraphed her desires, and joined her in her excursion, this time having the absolute privilege of being able to lead her on his path rather to vice versa.

He followed the wind to the location he had previously marked using the location of the wind.

It took too few bits to arrive. He wished he had been running into the forest for trials instead of breaks. With the both of them dashing in a straight line, he had met the grassy field where his company made camp in too short a period.

He didn’t want to say goodbye.

But he understood.

The creature once more pressed her forehead against Quiet’s before sprinting off in the direction of her herd, which was clearly visible travelling across the horizon, massive and unyielding.

As he walked back up the grassy knoll to where camp was made, he found that his eyes could not leave the form of his companion, running into the distance. His travelling company, who had more or less awoken, had their eyes seemingly glued to the horizon on which the creatures travelled.

Wordlessly, they turned to Quiet, noticing only now his return, and the adolescent doe who had accompanied him.

Quiet smiled, knowing, now, that he had truly had what was a singular experience.

But he desired more than most other things to see his companion again someday.

[Kasoria]

Review Rewards

Name Quickly Quiet

Points awarded: 10

Knowledge:
Acrobatics: Freerunning in a Foreign Forest
Acrobatics: Stick to Common Ground
Acrobatics: Quick Feet
Acrobatics: Climbing Trees
Acrobatics: Riding a Snaytu Kanna
Meditation: Summoning the Ability to Yell Really Loud

Renown: 10 points, for being seen riding a FREAKIN' Snaytu Kanna!

Notes:
Oh, man. You are fast becoming my favorite writer on the site. There's so much I love about your style of writing, your narrative, the allegory and emotions and the gift you have for painting your surroundings. I see a lot of how I write in yours, although I would hope I'm not so narcissistic as to enjoy your work just because I see shades of mine in it. Also, I'd never even heart of the Snaytu's until now: had to look them up, and WOW, did you do them justice. Most stunningly:

The creatures were indescribably massive. They were the ladders to the heavens. Their antlers scraped the sky, their spittle became stars and their breath became clouds.

And I mean that word quite literally. That wouldn't have been out of place in the works of Tolkien, mate. Well earned, well done, and good luck with the career as a park ranger!

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