Mictlan Meetup for Four

The changing of seasons is in the air; change or lack of scent from many of the plants, an early-altered leaf loosed to the wind, the more rare sight of many creatures, or merely the simple fact that the gusting breeze is quite cold.

Much of this is negated or mitigated in Mictlan proper, between the smokey aroma and warmth of cookfires and what is upon them, the stilling of the chill and wind as one nears, and the abundance of movement as denizens and guests go about their day.

Un'eth is among them, her attention currently divided between chewing meat for a hatchling with her maw, carving and serving meat from a roast beast with her claws to a somewhat older youngling, and, with tail and toeclaws, keeping a quite curious one, aged somewhere between the two, from sticking his entire nose into the coals at the edge of the cookfire

A certain silverscale was in incredibly fine spirits that day. Though exhausted physically, She wasn't stopping her journey to Mictlan, feeling welcome again, and with incredibly good reason to return. Entering the village proper, She was seeking out the leaders she knew about, and in particular, one name she heard from much of the crew of the ship.

She had moved ahead of the main group to seek Un'eth out, and practically sprints over to the fire where she was at. Though strangely, there was no scents, or rather, any where completely masked by a heavy perfume of wildflowers.

"Shaman Un'eth! Peace on your nest on this wonderful day." She greets, thumping once against the ground."

It has been some time since Zeke returned to Mictlan, and the sith is enjoying the fall in the air. He moves slowly, and his eyes flicker with some nervousness about those that he notes moving about the area. In fact he seems to be avoiding the other sith-makar as much as is possible for some reason. Pausing in his steps often to allow someone to pass far ahead of him.

Eventually he makes his way to the hearth-fire of the person he is looking for, and... stops well away from it seeing her so occupied. He does lift a claw in greeting however. "Peasssce on your nessst. Sseyardu... Un'eth. Thisss one hasss come to sshare wordssss... if the hatchlingsss can be attended to by another for a time."

He radiates nervousness.

Geir had settled near the central fire, tending to a wounded hunter.

"Tsa. The boar has acquitted itself in fine fashion, has it not?" The young hunter, with deep red scales, is slumped heavily upon an upturned log. Their thigh, a bit of a tangled mess. "The good newss is, the bone is not damaged. Your likely foe, over the coming months, is infection. If it were to remain ssuch."

A bright glow grows at the copper-scales palms, and with whispered prayers, the tangled flesh begins to knit itself together. The pain in the crimson-scale's eyes begins to drain away, their expression changing to one of relief. "Tsaa. That is better, yes?" While still swollen, with angry marks, the wound has closed. A bandage is gently bound around the wound. "It will be sore. Stiff. Thiss one suggests taking it easy for a time."

Un'eth looks up as her name is called. Then a second time?! She first gives a morsel of her mouthful of masticated meat to the hatchling. The rest is swallowed for herself as she rises. A larger portion of meat is sliced off for, a dropped lightly upon the other, self-feeding, hungry youngling. Left partly on her back to clutch a slab of roast boar a third of her body weight means that she isn't going anywhere. The curious youngling is hoisted up away from the fire before Un'et then strides towards the arrivals.

"Welcome, all. It is good to see you again so soon, Seyardu. A wonderful day, indeed!" She promptly hands Seyardu the smaller of her charges. This then leaves her to turn towards Zeke and peer at him over the small distance, scent the air. "Come. Share words. Fear not. I will protect you from the many claws and teeth."

With Un'eth walking forward, Seyardu closes the last of the distance, Hugging the ebon scaled makari gently. Even through the haze of perfume, the joy and happiness was enough to pierce through. She takes the charge from Un'eth, and nods.

"The main group will arrive in an hour. This one came ahead with Zeke to ensure there would be hot meals ready for them." She states, returning to the fire to keep an eye on the other younglings. A hand raises to Geir, wafting more of the perfume. "And shaman Geir, it has been some time. Peace on your nest!"

She looks back to Zeke. "It is alright to be here, I promise. This one will take care of the young ones while you speak."

At first Zeke seems uncertain. Then he slowly relaxes, his tails shifting in pleasure at seeing the young ones play. "Thisss one doess not fear the younglingsss, thisss one isss concerned that thisss one bringssss danger here, and wissshesss to abate the risssk."

He nods to Seayrdu and then she lifts her claw, drawing attention to the bronze-scaled Geir where he is working and Zeke seems even more startled than before. "Geir?" His voice is an odd pitch and he takes a quick-step backwards. "Thisss one.... thissss one ssshould go." He nods to himself and takes several steps backwards.

"Thisss one appreciatesss your offer Ssseyardu, but thisss one hassss already over-stayed a welcome." He smells heavily of embarrassment and... something else that is lost to the scent of wildflowers.

"Be certain there is plenty to serve!" Un'eth calls back over a shoulder towards the fires. Her tail thumps as her focus returns to Seyardu. "We shall be prepared." A pause at Zeke's words before she hands the staring youngling to Seyardu as well. "Hold him for a moment..."

Her full focus is now given to Zeke, towards whom she now strides more quickly than his brief reversed steps. "What words would you share? What danger? What troubles you?"

Geir blinks, looking up at the sound of his name being spoken. He offers a brief wave to Seyardu, and then looks back to the wounded hunter. Whom he helps stand, and walk about shakily, before the younger Sith limps away. "Yess, peace on your nest, shaman. It is good to s... see y..." The copper-scale's expression turns to shock, as he stares at Zeke. "But... they ssaid you.. were gone.."

His tail, having slumped to the ground, begins to curl back and forth behind him, like a great cat's. "What iss thisss?"

Seyardu takes the second child in her arms, now completely occupied.

"Do not hesitate to return if you need more healing, hunter. In fact, check in even if you feel it necessary. It is important to make sure it heals right." She calls to the limping redscale before they leave.

She turns to Zeke, and tilts her head. The curious youngling had reached up to hold onto the horn now in range. "Yes, he has returned. Did he, not tell you of this?" She asks curiously.

GAME: Zeke rolls will: (3)+12: 15

The situation only seems to be getting more complicated for the blue scale. He blinks at Un'eth and her stream of questions has him shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, his eyes darting toward Geir. Hesitantly he half-lifts a claw toward the other male and swallows at the questions from that corner. "Thisss one..." They're so softly spoken that they're hardly audible to /Un'eth/ who stands right next to him.

Then Seyardu speaks, and there's a second rush of embarrassment from Zeke who veritably stinks at this point of rioting emotions. He looks around at everyone and then with a sudden burst of fear... "Thissss-one-ssshould-go!" He turns and starts to make a hasty exit though... he is quite slow even at his effort of making a quick get-away.

GAME: Un'eth rolls sense motive: (2)+6: 8

The copper-scale watches Zeke's reaction with a mixture of pain and confusion on his face, an expression that takes several long moments to bring under control. Letting out a long breath, Geir looks to Seyardu. "This one knows not of what is going on, now, or what has led to here. This one only knows that Zeke was either dead, or far away. After a time, this one had given him up for dead."

Geir's eyes lock onto Zeke for a moment longer, and the coppery Sith lets out another lengthy sigh, glancing back to Seyardu. "It is obvious this one is a distraction. One could not help but overhear that words were to be spoken, words that have .. weight. This one will go." Geir straightens, and begins to move away, offering a polite nod to Un'eth. "Peace on your nest, Shaman."

One is now fleeing. Another, behind her, now excuses himself in preparation to... and Un'eth just recently went through some extensive effort to assure another that they were, indeed, welcome here.

"STOP WHERE YOU ARE!" she suddenly gushes forth in a short roar, one arm shifted behind her to point a claw in Geir's direction while her eyes bore at Zeke. She then adds, with slightly less volume, "words were brought, words will be shared." She then casts a brief glance to Geir to share the eyeing, then back. "I -insist.-"

Seyardu blinks as the others seem to be making an exit. She straightens her neck out, while one of the younglings continued to hang onto the horn.

"Geir, you do not need to run off, this one has not seen you in some time." She says before turning back to Zeke. "And you are welcome Zeke, but if you run off now, things may not be resolved for some time. You should both talk over your feelings, and what is going on."

Zeke isn't quite far enough away that he misses Geir's words, and they might have stopped him, but Un'eth's roar? Makes him stop in his tracks like the crash of a whip. He huddles in on himself, waiting... Waiting... He turns toward the female meekly and looks down at the ground. Anywhere but up. It's amazing really how small the large male can make himself look when he wants - needs - to. "Yes mother." He says quietly in draconic, his words making him stink even more of embarrassment. She is /not/ his mother and yet... old instincts die hard.

The copper-scale does stop, and slowly turns to face Un'eth. His expression is impassive, and he straightens, attempting to appear larger. "This one thanks you to not bark at him like some sort of junkyard dog.", he says quietly. "This one has more than a passing understanding of Zeke. It is possibly this one's presence causing difficulty, and the easiest solution is for this one to go. For now."

Geir looks to Seyardu, his expression warming. "This one does feel welcome, and always has. Our acquaintance can be renewed at another time."

The copper-scale looks to Zeke once again, and slowly advances on the blue-scale, stopping short and turning to face Un'eth, placing himself between the two. "This one would also thank you for not commanding such of Zeke." Un'eth expected a startle, even a halt. Zeke's reaction is rather more than that, and now something to be considered. In the end, however, it did halt his flight. Her approach to the bluescale is more calm and measured, only to find that Geir overtakes and interposes.

She now eyes both, in turn. Not harshly, but curiously, her head tilting nearly ninety-degrees to her left as she alternates target-eye combinations. "I seek only words. If they were valued enough to carry all this way, they should not be carted elsewhere unshared. We are The People; we are not warring with one another. One should not avoid nor fear another."

Seyardu looks to the others, and sighs. "Very well, but if your presence is causing issue, then the best course is to correct that, not leave. Easier or not. But this one can speak another time." She replies, turning to crouch down by the fire so she could carve off some more food for them.

"Un'eth, just be gentle with Zeke if you wish to talk. A scolding may not be the best course of action."

For just a second it is written out on Zeke's face. How much it means to him that the copper-scaled sith has stepped between him and the perceived danger. How much /Geir/ means to Zeke. It's there for just a moment, and everyone sees it... except Geir. The blue-scale drops his head and shakes it, reaching out to almost-touch Geir and then stops just shy. As he always has. Steps closer. "Thisss one thanksss you Geir. Thisss one... Will be all right. Ssshe isss not thisss oness nesst-mother."

He looks at Un'eth. "Thisss one only wissshed... to keep the younglings and Geir sssafe. Thiss one iss carrying a thing of danger, and wissshed you to look at it. To gain your wissdom, but it isss not worth the risssk to othersss for sssuch." Zeke seems better, more sure of himself now, and he looks at Geir with softness in his gaze. Gratitude. "Geir isss kind to thisss one, for thisss one hasss sssome fear of othersss. Fear that thisss one knowsss to be foolisssh, but all thessse yearsss can not ssshake."

Geir stiffens slightly at the sound of Zeke's voice, but the copper-scale quickly relaxes as the blue-scale continues talking. He shifts to one side slightly, as if to allow Zeke and Un'eth to speak, even though they could easily speak over his head. The copper-scale looks to Seyardu, his shoulder rolling slightly. "It is likely that this one's presence will always cause difficulty. There is, perhaps, a century of history between Zeke and this one. We have seen and done terrible things. Have had terrible things done to us. Made... faulty decisions. Been damaged, by others. And each other." Geir looks to Zeke while he speaks to Un'eth. "Yet here we are. A century on. A lifetime between us. A long.. dance. To use a softskin metaphor."

The copper-scale's expression hardens slightly, as he registers what Zeke is saying regarding the thing of danger. "It is possible the enchantments of Mictlan, or the lesser ones of our shamans, would shield us here, from prying eyes. Of ... casual spying. Perhaps you might consider a sanctified place in Alexandria, or elsewhere, for greater protections?"

Un'eth was loud before and is quiet, now. That her voice can carry does not mean that her ear-frills are closed. Her eyes move slowly between the two, though her snout remains nearly still. At one point, she casts a brief glance to Seyardu; possibly to see how she fares with the hatch- and youngling, maybe to assure that she heard the silver's words.

After the measure of explanation, she exhales a soft breath. "If if is a danger, it is good that you informed, but, ssa, I would keep it from Mictlan. Even from the city, if it is such a worry. Still, I would view it, offer what insight I can, elsewhere."

Now her snout moves to pan between the two once more. "A soft-skin lifetime... and yet, regardless, you still defend, and you are grateful. I think the scars are not so many, wounds not so deep, as you might believe. It would not take another lifetime to mend wounds, accept scars, and you both look to have many centuries left."

Seyardu turns, and blinks just once. She was doing alright, the young one who had finished eating was now busied trying to pounce on the silver tail that was swishing back and forth, while her arms and horn were occupied with the others.

"Zeke, Cryosanthia, neither mentioned another, in that tower." Seyardu notes. "Perhaps that is for the best, if it is discussed elsewhere. But this one also agrees with Un'eth, that your presence is not unwelcome."

The tall blue-scaled sith-makar stops at Geir's side, looking down at the other male. He shakes his head and clasps Geir on the shoulder with his crystal claw. Reassures the other that he is here, that they are together once again. "It isss bessst if wordsss are sshared elssse-where. Thisss one wissshess no danger where there are ssso many younglings running about." His own words cause his expression to harden and he looks at Un'eth. "Thisss one doess not have ssso much time asss it might sseem. Thisss one growsss old."

Indeed. So much time has been lost to him. He looks at the younglings and shakes his head again. Zeke sighs, smelling of regret now and he pats Geir on the shoulder. "Come, let uss retire and sshare wordsss. But to a plasce where they can deal with a demon ssshould one arrise. One of the templesss, or perhapsss the Ssshaman-cassste guild."

Geir was about to say something, his mouth opening, but it closes as Zeke clasps him on the shoulder. He turns to stare at the crystal claw. "Zeke?", he says quietly, his expression cracking to reveal surprise. "You are hardly... old." He nods then, slowly. "A temple ssounds best." A coppery hand rises up and slowly pats at the crystal one upon Geir's shoulder. "Never a moment's rest, it seems, never a moment's rest."

"Ssa," Un'eth concurs with the males, presumably concerning the suggested location. "The Dragonfather's temple would be as protected as any other. Some among them even hunt demon as preferred prey." Her foster-clutch-mate may not be present to chomp them, surely others have similar focus and training. "I will join you there, or another of your choosing," she advises Zeke and Geir. "First, I must be sure all is prepared for the returning..." After confirmation, she moves to tend to exactly that. An influx of rescued slaves is a joyous event, yet also a busy one.

-End