Spectral Woods Heavy heart no more...

Spieden felt like such an intruder, and yet the yearling did not make her leave. She didn't miss his use of 'we', and it seemed that he would be showing her what mystery lie at the heart of this. Spieden trailed after the tawny youngster, keeping to herself and aware she had been afforded some privilege to accompany him to his destination. The raven, who Spieden had all but forgotten for the moment, stood with an acorn right before it's talons, perfectly situated on the mossy floor at the foot of an oak.

Spieden followed the boy's gaze up to the treetops, still wondering what it was that brought him here. As he whispered her crooked ears flicked, and at first Spieden didn't think she had heard him correctly. Was that... "mum"? It took a just a moment for the pieces to fall into place, and then she knew. Her heart dropped, and she felt sudden shame at having been so curious as to blindly intrude on such a private moment.

As she looked at him, she couldn't help but think how young he was... and still, Spieden had been just as young. Unfortunately, the world didn't spare youth from its many sorrows. She wanted to say she knew what he had gone through, having lost her father before her eyes and she had long since realized her mother couldn't have made it far, either. But, she really didn't know what it was like for him, nor what had happened to his mother. Questions, platitudes, apologies bubbled up in her mind, but the Coho kept her tongue still. There was nothing she could add without detracting from the sanctity of it, and so Spieden remained respectfully, if not awkwardly, standing just a few paces back.

take my hand, take my heart, into this moment

Spieden Coho

to where you understand and where you believe in

let go of the grief, so that you can finally fly... To his surprise both Sceral and Spieden followed. The bird twittered quietly, following the boy's gaze up into the boughs. He might have uttered his own little salutation if it weren't for his remembering what he had brought the young Aesir-Donata here for. Looking to Spieden briefly, he nodded to her, a small gesture to wordlessly tell her how glad he was that she had accompanied the youth. He shuffled his black-clawed feet, nuzzling the smooth top of his beak against the yearling's foreleg before clumsily shuffling away in an evasive manner (he couldn't help it, despite the number of times he tried to ignore his instincts, he still found himself awkwardly clambering about, even in the presence of a perceptive individual such as Sceral). Recovering himself and standing up properly, he picked up the acorn again before placing it back down on the ground and nudging it towards the pale-furred boy. "CAWW," he vocalized, clicking his beak twice soon after. Again, he nudged the seed over, so that it stood but a few inches from Sceral's large left paw. For you, he said, spreading his right wing to actually point at the acorn before lifting his feathers to point up to the tree that stood watch over Corinna's resting place. "Awwwh-waawk," he then said, blinking twice as he backed away. This is for you. A reminder... that even the smallest can make the biggest of impacts. You are your mother's son; and, you, too, harbor that greatness that she once had. Even the grand and wise, old oak had started from something so tiny. Never forget that. The winds began to speak once more, weaving through the boughs of Corinna's oak and the trees surrounding them. Time to go... The rook hummed a singular note as if to signal that he was just about to make his leave and allow Sceral (and Spieden) the chance to visit with Corinna's spirit if they so wished or believed. His message had been delivered and with a rather courteous bow of his extended wings and black-feathered head, he lifted himself into the air, soon to possibly return the following Summer to see what had become of Corinna Donata's sons... (Exit.)

Wow, I knew I was missing some thread somewhere! So, so sorry Kydnt. We can archive this after this post or you can make one more reply? The gist is that Sceral's just going to spend some time in the company of his "mother's" tree. @Spieden

His muddy gaze remained glued to the swaying tree's rich greenery. It was comforting and intimidating, all at the same time. The rustling of leaves in the wind, brushing against one another and the rough, thick bark. Sceral could have watched it all day in silence, but the Raven pressed its beak against his foreleg in some strange gesture of affection or even understanding. His muddy gaze reluctantly pulled away to watch the black feathered messenger. How strange … there was something about this wolf bird that left the last born Donata feeling safe in its presence. Still, clearly the birds instincts were still very much in tact and it cautiously tottered away. I don't think I'll ever chase another bird again, he thought. Way too clever.

The bird nudged a little acorn towards him, cawing and shifting it even closer. Then, the strangest thing happened (this day was just full of surprises): the bird pointed to the seed, and then to the oak. And Sceral thought he understand. The way he saw it was that he was the little acorn; trapped inside such tiny seed was a mighty tree. Someday, he'd break free from his shell and grow to be a mighty tree himself. Just like his mother was. And then, a memory of Corinna came suddenly to mind. “No, you won't ever be as big as a tree. But, one day you'll be as big as me.” He almost laughed at the idea that he once thought he would be a tree. Instead, he merely smiled.

The Raven called for Sceral's attention once more, lowering its head and spreading its wings in a very gracious manner. And then it took off, a flurry of flapping, and the adolescent watched it go. “Goodbye,” he uttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “And thank you.”

[/ooc]It was then that he turned his sights on Spieden. He offered her smile. “Uh, thank you, too. For … comin' with me. Means a lot.” He placed his paw over the acorn the wolf bird had left him and inhaled deeply. “'m Sceral, by the way.” And that was when he decided what his name would really be. He was his mother's son. His father, on the other hand. As much as Sceral loved him as a cub, the large male had left and never returned. Sceral certainly didn't feel like an Aesir, and so he would honour the family he did have. He turned and sat down again, keeping his paw over the acorn like it was some totem of strength. “Sceral Donata.”

Remaining a quiet spectator, Spieden watched the curious interaction between bird and wolf. She knew it was something special, something that she was privileged to see. Her large head shook slightly, no thanks was needed for her. As he introduced himself, her head instead bobbed slightly, quietly mumbling "Spieden," in exchange. Sceral seemed to understandably have other things on his mind, and finding herself being nosy enough already, Spieden silently slipped away.

{End}

take my hand, take my heart, into this moment

Spieden Coho

to where you understand and where you believe in