Soaking Up Sun

              Mictlan, Midday.

"Please come down."

It's not every day one finds a silver lizard in a tree. And such a large one at that. Speaking in their native tongue, it looks as if they're diplomatizing with a cat stuck in a branch high above, with Skielstregar a couple tens of feet off the ground.

But, instead of a cat, it's a polearm wedged into the wood of a tree. The branches were too thin for the heavy makari, so instead, he's relegated to use his words. "This one does not understand, why do you always perch so high?"

The weapon, on it's own accord, wobbles in a circle, still embedded in the trunk.

"You are not making sense, Malefic."

It bobs up and down.

"No, you are not. Please come down so we can-"

Malefic shakes from side to side.

The lack of sleet or rain and bright sun makes this much more agreeable weather for ... tree climbing? Tlanexhuani is entering the grounds of Mictlan from the south when the words from on high are heard. Snout and eyes pitch up accordingly in search. The large and shiny silverscale is not so hard to spot, since he doesn't look like tree, leaf, or fruit. Not any that the bluescale would know of, that is.

"Peace on your nest," he calls upward, "but maybe it should be closer to the ground? The People are not birds." The greeting is in earnest, the rest is more... in humor.

Skielstregar glances down, him half curled around the trunk itself while his tail is wrapped around the thickest branch around. "Mrrh? Oh! Crafter Tlanexhuani! Peace on your nest!" he greets in their native tongue. There's a rumble of a laugh. "This one would find it amusing if the People fled to the trees to escape the woes of Am'shere."

He looks up to the halberd, the shiny polearm's runes gleaming bright. A sigh escapes him. "This one... typically their weapon comes when hailed, but at times it absconds on up high and refuses to come down. It puzzles this one. How are you? This one is glad you made it back to Mictlan safe."

Tlanexhuani snort-roars a laugh. "Climbing tree would put The People at convenient height for biting!" After that fades out, he looks between sliverscale and weapon. "Ssa, this one returned. Why does weapon hide? Does it fear? Is it angry?" Eyes shift to the halberd. "Did Warrior Skielstregar not sharpen enough?" There is some humor yet there, though also curiosity and even some earnest. He has not had conversations with weapons before.

Skiel gives a similar laugh. "Such wisdom! You should be of the Lore Speakers!"

The silverscale sighs, giving up on reaching for the weapon and ends up hanging upside down off the branch via his legs. "This one does not know."

Malefic wobbles side to side at Tlanexhuani's question. Almost like shaking their head.

"Are you hiding, Malefic?"

The wobbling quickens.

"Then why-?"

The haft suddenly jerks upright, end pointing to the sky, the sun baring down through the clear skies making it hard to stare up there for long.

Skiel scratches his head. "... yess, the sun feels nice. The Dragonfather's light is welcome."

Tlanexhuani is glad that Skielstregar can understand the weapon, as the bluescale cannot with any certainty. He can listen, though, and when an explanation seems given... he looses a new laugh. "Ah! Ha! It is like one with full belly on bright day! Want to lay on rock in sun! Warm scales and sleep!" That is his take on it, anyhow.

Skiel blinks at Tlanexhuani. "... gah, why didn't this one think of that! Of course, the sun is splendid!"

Malefic twists slightly in the wood, holds the pose, before bobbing up and down slowly.

The silverscale chuffs. "Well, then you stay up there and bask!" Turning over, Skiel digs his talons into the bark as he clambers his way down the tree back to the earth. He dusts his tunic off. "That explains much. Thank you Tlanexhunai. Malefic has become more expressive, but their manner of communicating is obtuse. Have you exhausted your search in the woods for your Kin? This one has kept an eye out, but hasn't found any of the sort in Mictlan."

Tlanexhuani makes a vague gesture with his claws in the equivalent of a softskin shrug after Skielstregar returns to the ground. "This one watch many sleep with sun on scales... or sleep the same!" There is a mild bemused hiss before the other question comes. "Ssa. No need to hunt. Wee one Murder is good hunter, good guide. Show this one the city, help find kin. Nona is here, her son there."

Skielstregar chuckles. "This one does similar, though they find the cold just as pleasant despite what other kin may say."

Dead eyes settle on the bluescale, and a small sigh and scent of relief escapes him. "Ah. That is good. You have been to the softskin city then? Confusing place for first timers. But this one is glad you managed to find her son. Seeing as they are there and not here, this one takes it he is doing well?"

"Ssa," Tlanexhuani's tail flicks. "He is well. Nona's worries are maybe... exagerrated? Nest-mothers can be this way. There is much this one does not know. Nest-mother and egg left many, many seasons ago."

Skiel gives a slow nod. "This one assumed as much. While this one is not one to dismiss a nest-mother's worries, this one felt they were a bit... manic about it."

He blinks. "... Nest-mother and egg /left/? That is... strange. Very strange. Here, during hatching season, all of Mictlan was very protective of the nesting grounds. When this one was... less hale, they never got to see it. But it was a very large group effort."

Tlanexhuani exhales a long breath, tail and and snout drooping. "Ssa. Very strange, but... Tribe's clutches small, few, many seasons. This one clutch of one. Nona was second clutch of one, same nest-mother. Some think nesting ground bad, cursed. When Nonantzine lay clutch of one..." Another vague gesture of claws, as if seeking to pull words from the air. "Maybe fear? Maybe want best for egg? She left, take Zeke egg with, told no one. Not even this one..." His head droops further

Skielstregar's scent is an odd one. It's a constantly joyful thing, subtle. With a cutting undercurrent of dread and death. But right now, that's overshadowed with surprise. "Shaman Zeke?!" he gasps, tail going rigid straight behind him.

Followed by his taloned hand smacking into his face with force. "Gah. This one is a fool. Of course it's the Shaman!"

He shakes his head. "This one is sorry that your clutch's nesting grounds is cursed. But... this one does not see the Shaman as broken, they are sorry," he rumbles slowly, a certain firmness in his words of respect and awe.

"Ssa! Shaman of the Dragonfather!" Tlanexhuani straightens up with that, no longer sagging. Quite the opposites as his chest expands with pride and tail sways happily. For a moment.

It shifts to tense flicking and ire... concern. "No. He is not broken. Was not broken. This one not know why Nona did these things..."

Skielstregar rumbles warmly, tail swaying. "Ssa. Shaman of the Dragonfather. This one looks up to him for guidance."

The happiness deflates. "... This one does not know either. Nest-mothers can get very confusing around those times. Perhaps she worried herself so much that she left, and when Zeke hatched, it only confirmed all her fears."

The silverscale is quiet for a beat, his tail swaying low, brushing glass and sticks aside. "... this one feels bad for the Shaman. He grew up without others? It takes entire village to raise a hatchling. It is not this one's place to make assumptions, but like they said before, this one feels as if Nona is the one that needs the aid, and needs to recognize that her hatchling is thriving."

He turns to Tlanexhuani. "This one also feels bad for you, Crafter. Such time missing is not well for the mind. And seeing your magnificent horns, there has been much time passed."

And so the inflating and deflating continues, as the bluescale leaks in a long exhale to condense back to normal. Then further to lean heavily on his spear. "Sssa. Worry. Fear. May blind her. May want keep in nest long after hatched..."

"Shaman was without others. Only nest-mother. She not tell him of tribe. Of this one. Nothing." He pauses. "Maybe is best he was not told."

Skielstregar nods sagely, albeit sadly. "Perhaps she wished to have a normal nest, and it made her crack." His head eyes half lid. "... this one knows such well."

He eyes Tlan. Then shakes his head firmly. "No. It is good the Shaman is told. It gives closure and abates worries. This one wondered if they had kin, family, for the longest time after much tribulations. And being told and having met them, it made them feel more whole."

"This one will learn why, what Nona did," Tlanexhuani affirms with some fire, though it is pained as much as irate. It dissipates quickly, though, and his tail thumps in agreement with the warrior's words, before curling about one of his ankles. "Ssa. Is good to know of kin, meet kin... but this one has only this one to show Shaman Zeke."

And here is where Skiel's exuberance kicks up. He pumps his fists and ducks a bit to grin up at Tlanexhuani, scent exuding excitement. "And what wonderful, caring kin you have to show!"

There's a whirling sound from above, then a dull >thud< as the haft of the polearm inserts itself into the earth at fall velocity. It spins around in a rotate, runes glimmering bright. Skiel seems unfazed by its appearance, and he scoops the weapon up with gusto. "See! Even Malefic agrees!"

That was... unexpected? Tlanexhuani blinks at the warrrior's sudden exuberance. Followed by a startle at the sudden sound and dropping of the weapon to plunk itself into the ground. "Ah!" Then comes "Ha!" with a chortling series of hisses following. He could argue against the energy and assurances of the makari, but a glowing weapon?! Or maybe he just chooses not to and share in some of that excitement. "Ssa. This one is here as kin if Shaman wishes kin." Technically, he is here even if he doesn't. "Many thanks, Warrior Skielstregar, and ... Malefic."

Skielstregar rumbles happily in his chest, him leaning against the polearm. "You are most welcome! This one is glad we can raise your spirits!"

Malefic's runes glimmer and sparkle.

"Now, you are here. And this one has recovered their weapon! Do you need anything? It is a long trek from here to the city," he asks, letting go of the weapon. It doesn't fall over, instead staying perfectly upright.

Tlanexhuani waves claws casually. "This one is well. No needs." He inhales deeply. "This one stay in Mictlan for a time. With The People. Maybe find answers. Watch younglings. Sleep in sunshine."

Skiel chuckles, tail swaying wide. "Very well! Excellent. There are many feisty younglings about, so watch them latching onto tails! Sleep well in the sun, Crafter. If you need firewood, let this one know. They provide as much as they can for the People."

With that, he scoops up Malefic. "We shall be guarding the perimeter! Pease on your nest!" The halberd gleams brightly in the sun, a shiny reflection of the silverscale present in the flat of the blade.

The reflection diverges, a life-filled silver eye slides over to peer at Tlanexhuani.

Malefic winks at him as they're carried away by a happy-go-lucky silverscale.