• Closed • Adversity Shapes the Tree, or Breaks It

[Toscun'ahesesi]

Ymiden 1, Arc 716

Tose had contributed several fat Coypu to the banquet, caught on a communal hunting trip with several other hunters, and they were being prepared, but now though she loved her people, she found that all the noise and bustle was pressing on her, and she had nothing more to give besides smiles anyway. Perhaps later she would take part in the running of the obstacle course, though she did not expect to win. For now though, she needed a break, a breathe of fresh air and blessed silence.

She needed the Makubwa Lori. Tose was not anti-social, far from it. She loved talking with the other villagers. Had shared meals with them often, but this was usually limited to perhaps a double hand of adults. When they were all together, all in the town, all excited.. She would go back and be excited with them, and listen to the stories and share in the food, and laugh with them. But first she needed a breather. For Trials the hunters had gone out each morning together and brought in anything they could get without depleting the surrounding area too badly to make sure the Banquet would be a time of plenty. Tose had become accustomed to having some time to sort her thoughts alone, and without it she was feeling.. Frazzled might be the best word.

As her Nana might have said, her mind was all higgledy-piggeldy, and it needed sorting. Immediately she'd thought of the dancing leaves, and she'd excused herself and made for the Itoju. Her wound was healed now, only a pale scar remained, so she broke into a ground eating lope. What had taken her several breaks before, she covered quickly now. There was less worry of running into a predator, though she had her bow just in case. One last kill would give her a good reason to have left, though she thought most would understand. That was only if the opportunity presented itself though.

Mostly she wanted to meditate. It was hard still, and often she was distracted and lost the quiet within herself, but it was good and she felt better afterwards. More aware, more connected, more prepared for whatever came. She'd not gotten to do it many times since that first, and not at all in her grove, since it was a inconvenient distance away, and in a very rare display of selfishness, Tose did not particularly want to bring the other Hunters there.

If one of them had mentioned needing to learn to meditate, or not being able to find peace, if they had needed it, she would have shared or even given it up of course, but other than that.. It was nice to have a place that was hers. Sometimes she thought of building a small home here, but she did not want to live away from her people, she loved them too much. Besides, though not the best hunter, the lack of her contribution would be felt, and there were many things she did not know how to do or provide for herself.

Absentmindedly as she dropped to kneel in the rough centre of the corpse, having given it a once over to ensure there were no surprises, she run her thumb around the outside of her tree tattoo.

We are all connected, not just where it is seen and obvious, my blood-family, the hunters I run with, but where it is unseen too, those who make the dyes and threads mother uses for my clothes, those who harvest the salt to flavour my food, those who help to support those I love in ways I do not even see. All connected. I do not want to be separate from my family.

A nod unseen by any at this, for she did feel a little guilt at leaving for all that she would be back and had done her part already.

But we must still walk our own paths, and sometimes they are lonely, solitary paths before they converge again.

This, she decided, was not a bad thing. And so she set her guilt aside. She breathed it out in one long breath through her mouth, casting it out to be burned away by the Ymiden sun.

Inner turmoil of the day quieted, she looked up to the leaves, as they danced in a wind she barely felt, once more falling under their nearly mesmerising spell as she listened to them sing. Thoughts of the Banquet, of the obstacle course, of the stories that would be told pulled her to herself many times, but each time with quiet persistence she turned her attention outward again, rejecting the self in favour of the natural world and all that it held if you were not too busy running a commentary on it and thinking of the future.

Finally, finally she got it just so, and sat in perfect stillness, breathing even and barely perceptible, eyes still on the leaves, senses picking up only the sounds and sounds around her.

[Nymph]

It was time to celebrate the season change. The city proper was alive with music, chatter, the warmth of fire at the Hunters’ Fire Pit, and the smells of various recipes cooking in pots, over open fires, and marinating in giant bowls. Much like her people, Moseke found it an excellent time to join in on the fun. She clothed herself in ceremonial furs and ghosted her pristine figure with that of an older Sev’ryn woman. It was easier to enjoy the spirit of her people when they were not all bowing and praying at her feet.

The weight of a faked full life pulled lines into her face. It dragged her taunt skin down along her arms, belly, and legs. Even her breasts seemed to sag like a normal aged woman, not as perky as they had been in ones youth. Her dark hair went from salt and pepper to silver, growing coarse with presumed time. She even decided to add a little flavor to her skin, decorating this ghostly body with tattoos and bracelets fitting an elderly Sev’ryn. When she looked in the bowl of water next, the strong, stunning, young Immortal had become and older looking human. The only feature that hinted at youth were her emerald eyes, glistening back with happiness for her people.

She took a walking staff with her, carved from birch with various animals she had encountered during her time in the Southern Region. If someone paid close attention, it could be noted that this was her staff. A staff she took great pride in carrying in each of her excursions amongst her people. Sometimes she used it for fighting, other times she used it for poking marbles in the dirt, and now, she used it for fake support. As she traveled to the fire pits, she nodded gentle greetings to those who passed her. They smiled and returned the nod with delightful greetings, in common and Xanthea. It soothed her soul to see her people prosperous.

Just as she reached the pits, she noted a young woman begin to take her leave from the celebration. Odd. Why did she not wish to join her people in greeting the season of Ymiden. Upon further inspection, she noted this young woman as recognizable. She had been in the temple recently, mildly injured from a hunting excursion. Ah. Toscun’ahesesi. The name even rang a bell. Istin’idur, and elder of her people, came to the temple often to pray and seek guidance from Moseke on behalf of her wild-hearted granddaughter. Suddenly, the celebration seemed more a distraction. Investigating this young woman sounded more interesting.

Toscun’ahesesi had made it out into the Makubwa Lori well before Moseke could. She had to keep her guise or she would draw suspicion before she could get into the forest. Once past the Itoju and safely within the forest, she dropped the old woman’s disguise for something stronger. Her weeping skin grew taunt over thick muscles. The thin skin grew opaque again with youth and remained covered in tattoos. The sagging breasts seemed to disappear as she ghosted herself with the form of a man. She even went as far to convince her white staff to shrink. Then she did something she was not used to. With concentration and a large, flat stone in hand, she forced the staff to extend dead tendrils of wood over the stone to create a crude axe. The stone, with some more Immortal tricks, was sharpened in an instant.

Moseke now looked like a black Human man with an axe. A weapon not favored within the forest unless intended for striking down a large carnivore of Lisirra’s wicked animals. Axes were associated with felling, and trees were sacred in Desnind. For now, it was simply a way to disguise her staff, although the wood still held the etched forms of animals and remained white.

It was easy to follow Toscun’ahesesi because the trees whispered about her. She was alone, working on controlling her spirit. Or so the trees suspected. Moseke made not a sound as she observed the Sev’ryn, whom fidgeted and fussed only to fall quiet. She repeated this process for a while, but still she tried. The young woman was trying to connect herself with the forest, with her people, and most of all, with her. Moseke wanted to believe that Toscun’ahesesi was attempting to make a connection with her to better herself and support Desnind. It always made her happy when her children wanted to be close to their mother.

Yet, with all of her followers, there had to be a test. Even she was selective about those that were honored with her presence, her kind words, and her blessing. Moseke – now Mark – slipped away from the clearing. It was not more than a bit away. Here, she kissed the bark of a young tree, connecting her forehead to it. It would pain her as much as the tree for what she was about to do.

Allow me to bite your flesh. Do not worry, for I shall make you whole again.

Mark stepped back, raising the hand-crafted axe high above his head. With a strong swing, the stone head bit into the bark with a loud thwack. He wrestled it from the wood, raising it again above his head and bringing it down on the trunk.

Thwack.

Thwack.

THWACK.

[Toscun'ahesesi]

A sound that should not be and was so rare that for a moment Tose did not know what she was hearing shattered the tenuous connection she had managed to forge, the silence within herself. Eyes opened and Tose was on her feet in a heartbeat, hand momentarily dropping to the knife she used for skinning as well as eating until she realised that it was no beast, no predator that intruded on the silence of the copse.

Ears used to searching for and tracking prey quickly worked out the direction the noise was coming from, and callused feet bore her swiftly, dodging around trees.

It likely said something that it was not the intrusion on 'her' corpse that upset her so, for she would have greeted anyone who had happened upon her with good cheer, it was that as far as she knew, no tree felling had been approved. Such a thing was talked of before hand, and the hunters were often consulted as they often knew a tree that fit just what was need, or at least they were warned, since it was they who wandered the Makubwa Lori armed. There had been nothing though, and this suggested a tree poacher, but who would dare? And on this day of all days? Although.. Her mind twisted down unfamiliar pathways, thinking of Talhar and what he would expect. Any who knew Desnind would know that everyone would be in town celebrating today, that there would be none out to hear this desecration.

She did not like to think this though. Perhaps they simply did not know. This was a better option. It was lucky, for the woodcutter, or it would have been if he had been just a simple woodcutter, that it was Tose who responded, because Tose did not particularly want to hurt anyone. It did not even occur to her that she might have to fight.

Before long, a dark skinned man was before her, axed raised to strike again.

"Wait!"

Tose called out, hand extended palm out. He looked like he could well be Sev'ryn, even more than the colouring, he had the tattoos, but she did not know him, and she thought that she could at least recognise everyone. Perhaps he was from somewhere else after all.

"Xanthea? Or Common?"

The second half was said in Common of course. Her accent was still thick, but understandable. She wished she'd practised it more though. Sometimes Sev'ryn born in other lands came home, and many times it was just that, a homecoming, but sometimes they felt that they did not fit, and people could have funny reactions when they thought they did not fit. Some tried to strike out at what they thought was hurting them. She understood this, for it was what animals did, but she did not agree. They had been given the ability to think and reason, and it should be used. Directed by the heart first of course, but used all the same.

Was this man who looked like one of her people, but who she did not recognise one of these lost Sev'ryn? Well perhaps she could stop him and help if this was so.

Either way he would not be using that axe on another tree.

"It is bad what you do. Not allowed. Why you need?"

Common, and then continued in Xanthea.

"You waste the Mothers gift. This tree is not even full grown and you cut it down. Don't you know to just ask for what you need? What could you need this tree for so badly that you would sneak out to kill it now? If you need a tool many are already made. If you need fire, there are many you would be welcomed at. If you wish something else, I know a woodcarver who could help you. This though, is not the correct path. I do not know you brother, who are you? I am Toscun'ahesesi."

Tose, fearless, foolish Tose, who could not conceive of another person let alone a Sev'ryn trying to hurt her, turned her back on the man, inspecting the damage to the tree instead.

"Ksst, this is not good, but maybe it will live. Trees are very strong. I am not Cïkäkkẹn, but my Father showed me some things to help."

She raised a hand to the jagged wound he'd inflicted, brow furrowed in thought. Her father had told her that although it made the wound look worse, if you cut off the area around it cleanly, then the tree could heal, or at least would have a better chance. He'd managed to penetrate fairly deep, but not all the way to the heartwood, so it had a fighting change at least.

She seemed at this point to remember there was a strange man with an axe behind her and she turned back, waiting for his answers. There was no real.. anger emanating from her. It was a bad thing that he had done, but she did not know if he'd known that or why he had done it yet.

[Nymph]

Mark has raised his axe to swing at the tree again when a woman’s voice rang out behind him. He stuttered prior to his swing, and angled his head in a fashion to note the woman behind him with her hand extended. He had full intention of felling the tree, but she moved between him and the tree and he was obligated to set the axe on his strong shoulder for a time. He initially said nothing in response, seeming to be uninterested or unable to understand her. Of course, everything she said in either language he understood. She was quick with her words; in a way similar to a winding river that could not decide which way it wanted to go. Babbling suggested a wild, untrained mind.

He went as far to raise a brow when she turned her back on him to inspect the tree. Too trusting. This marked someone used to her city and the ways of her people. There was little crime and very few that would backstab an innocent young woman. Mark pondered what to do with this. It was already troublesome for her to be there and in his way, but now she treated him as if he were a friend. There was little that could supersede the dangers of misplaced trust.

Just as she turned back around, he closed the distance between them with one step, lifting the axe off his shoulder and swinging it. He did not intend harm, just fear. The stone head imbedded itself in the area above her left shoulder and away from her head in the bark, gouging the tree almost effortlessly. He leaned in close, narrowing those bright green eyes of his. It would have been interesting to speak in another language entirely, but he opted to make it somewhat easy on the girl.

”Moseke ies syayvi ọwọpọ sọ ẹnikan.”

The Xanthea was spoken with a harsh, cold tone. It was odd to slander his own name, but the reaction would be far more interesting from a faithful Sev’ryn. If she wished so desperately to become one with the forest and the mother, she would have to deal with all the issues that came with it including protecting Moseke’s name. Allowing the phrase to sit on the air a moment more, Mark found himself pulling the axe from the bark and stepping several paces from her.

”Yika ke’ua ọludïbọ. Sev hìtua ariwo asuguru.”

Before Tose could do much of anything else, he swung the axe back onto his shoulder and moved passed her and the tree. He then broke into a job, purposefully leaving a track with heavy footsteps and broken branches. Only when he was a good distance away did Mark deem it necessary to use his immortal powers. There was a flash of yellow-green light as his body became her body. The axe head fell her staff, which returned to its normal shape and length. She vaulted into the trees in one fell swoop, cutting off the trail entirely. The oddity was that there was one set of footprints that did not match the originals. They were dainty and feminine, in comparison to the big meaty prints of her cover.

Moseke could tell that Tose had spirit, and a good heart to do what was right. There would always be tests and trials to overcome. The world revolved around life and death, and the Makubwa Lori was no different. This led her mind to consider a new task for the young woman. A choice was to be had. Removing herself from the trail a short distance, Moseke found a small clearing. She would certainly have to react quickly to prevent Tose from discovering her in this form. Normally, she would have convinced the earth and trees to bend to her will. This time, she was simply forcing them to her will. There was a flash of yellow-green light once more and suddenly she was a young, human woman with bright yellow hair and shining green eyes. She sat at the bottom of a pitfall, her ankle twisted in a way to make it look sprained or broken. The white staff with the carved animals lay a hand’s length away from her. She appeared tired, thirsty, and hungry, leaning against the dirt wall that stood 7 feet into the ground. For a woman with a healthy form, it would have been easy to get out of. With a sprained or broken ankle, it was impossible.

If Tose had been stumped by the trail, the flash of light and following words would potentially guide her to her next task. ”Sir, please help me.” There was a brief silence before a desperate cry came from the same direction.

“Wait! Don't go! Help me! Help me...”

Translations 1

"Moseke is no mother of mine.”

“Keep your tree. I will find another.”

[Toscun'ahesesi]

The descent of the axe startled her. She froze, tense stillness settling around her as it came, more slowly than it had any right to. It did not cut into her skin though, but buried itself once more in the tree. Not much better, though the tree would likely heal more quickly and surely than she would have.

For a moment she wavered, deciding. Was this man not a man? Should be be reassigned to no more than a predator to be dealt with appropriately? Sevryn custom had harsh punishment for those who would harm their brethren. But he'd not hit her. He could have and he had not. He postured instead. He was a lost Brother, but still a brother all the same.

"ïrïn anou äjọdun lọọnchọ dav takip umärnï latsi takip ibon èrè murädï."

She shot after his retreating back. Who was he to say Moseke was not his mother? Why would he? He could turn his back on her and choose to have no relationship with her moving forward, but that did not make her any less his Mother.

"Syayvi! Ainev ọludïbọ awt ọnjẹ. Ke’u ìlana azuka. Kufuata ailewu hawnven kur shïgọdä osise ïtẹsïwäju. Takip osise ke’u tä ïrïn!"

His long legs had already taken him out of sight however. Steeling herself internally, Tose moved after him. The trail he'd left was clear. She was perhaps not the best tracker, but she was more than good enough for this. What he was doing was wrong and bad, it could not be allowed. And more than that, he was clearly not in a good place. He needed to come back to Desnind, to come home, where he could be reminded of the good things and how he ought to be. That he was not alone, that all was connected. Surely once he was properly reminded of those connections he would respect them?

Suddenly though, the trail disappeared. For a moment, Tose closed her eyes, holding her breath, slowly rotating hear head, listening. If he was moving quickly still, she would surely hear him. It was this absolute concentration on what her ears told her that had her missing the flash of light, but immediately honing in on the female voice that called for help.

Part of her filed the Sir away as proof that the lost Brother had gone that way, but most of her was focused on the plea. Protecting the Makubwa Lori was important, and she would give up her own life to do it, but it was as or more important to look after your humanoid family. The Makubwa Lori was pretty good at looking after itself, other people tended not to be. The truth was that the cutting the lost brother could do likely wouldn't make much difference, but if one was allowed to, why not two? Or four? Or ten? And suddenly the forests were lost, and the Mother wept.

Her priorities shifted though. She could bring back the more experienced hunters later who would be able to find even an old trail. The lost brother would be found whether he liked it or not, the woman in trouble was her current task. It wasn't long before she came to the source, a very blond, very non-Sevryn woman stuck at the bottom of a pit trap.

"Hello, my self name is Toscun'ahesesi, no fear, I will help. Only-"

She paused for a moment trying to remember the word. Failing.

"Only leg-meet-foot hurt?"

Her curiosity got the better of her.

"How fall in hole? Lost?"

She looked around, taking into account what was around her that she could use to help the young woman.

Translations

"Saying the twin suns do not shine does not make it so.”

“No! All trees are protected. You must ask. The Elders know which would sacrifice itself for us. It is not for you to decide!”

[Nymph]

The blond haired woman sat for some time, but it was not long before Tose arrived to investigate the scene. She stared weary eyed up at the young woman, whom began to piece together her broken common into words. With some struggling, she managed to pull herself up into a standing position. The young woman leaned against the earth wall, holding her pained foot off the ground. She skewed her face into something that resembled pain and curiosity, eyeing the woman of the forest that spoke common fairly well.

“I was pushed. This savage came running through the forest. He had a stone axe. I have been lost in this forest for a few days, and he shoved me out of his way into this hole. I can’t move my foot. At first I thought it was an accident, but he ran away before he would help me out of this hole,” Her voice was needy and pained. She winced for good measure as she hopped on her good foot to steady herself. The staff remained on the floor of the pit.

Again she hopped on her good foot, moving herself to the wall that was beneath Tose. She reached up, gauging how far she had to reach. It would be pointless. The gap was too large for her savior to reach down and grab her hand. She was unable to safely jump without risking a full fracture of her ankle. The woman looked around for roots or rocks to grab onto. Testing her luck, she reached up for a broken root. At first it held, but when she managed to get most of her weight onto the root, it snapped. With a squeak, she fell backwards. Her good foot clipped the staff and she fell onto her rump.

“That won’t work. I’m not strong enough to get up. Can you help me get out of this pit and get out of this forest? I cannot do it alone,” the poor girl whimpered, tears lining her lower lids.

What it must feel like to be helpless. As an Immortal, Moseke was far from helpless. Her people on the other hand had been helpless many times in their history. They had been resilient and kind to one another during those times. They had even been kind to strangers in their history when times were tough, food was scarce, and tempers were short. The Sev’ryn had always impressed her, and she hoped Tose was no different. Moseke closed her eyes and focused her powers It was somewhat of a feat, but she convince the forest to deceive the Sev’ryn girl.

The sound the forest created sounded like an axe hitting the trunk of a tree in the distance.

Now Tose had a choice. Help the girl or go find the man who was comiting the crime of felling and had carelessly pushed the girl into the pit? It was a tough choice indeed: to protect the sacred forest and everything that the Sev’ryn held dear or to help complete strangers whom appeared incapable of helping themselves. Moseke had an idea as to which Tose would chose, but the question was, would she be as predictable as she appeared?

OOC

Sorry it took me so long to get back to you Tose. I shall try and prioritize this for you. - Nymph