Post by Curiosity on Dec 12, 2007 18:40:34 GMT -5
Not long after the rumors arrived about a spreading sickness in other lands, the first signs of illness appear in one previously thought by many of his peers to be strong enough to withstand anything - but hope nonetheless appears in the ashes of tragedy.
=====
Characters Involved:
Ahiga, male cougar, Amaranth chief
Paoro, female cougar, Amaranth matron
Bald Eagle Spirit
== Stone Formations ==
Sitting atop one of the fallen boulders, worn flat by eroding winds, Paoro stares intently out at the lands surrounding the mountain they call home, slowly rotating her line of vision from the valley to immediate west, to the forest and meadowlands to the north, and finally the lush plains to the east. Her alert countenance seems to be trying to filter out secrets from the very wind itself, eyes focused and ears pricked forward. But she's already heard the whispers from travelers passing through - a sickness that eventually claims the mind - and some rumor the very soul - itself. It concerns her greatly, and if anything, she's attempting to divinate murmurs of help from the spirits.
It is because of these rumors and the way he has been feeling lately that the ever-elusive Ahiga has sought out Paoro. He was hoping against hope that the sickness--if there was one--would stay out of his borders, but he is not so fortunate. Even traveling part of the tribe's territory is too much for him, when he could usually circle half of it in a day without rest. There is also the feeling of unbalance that floods over him frequently. It is with heaving ribs that he approaches the stone formations, stable for the moment. When he spots Paoro, he stops and slowly lowers himself onto his haunches, leaning a shoulder slightly against one of the tall outer rocks. He says nothing, likely from lack of breath as well as respect for the one listening to the spirits.
The sounds of approach, easily heard in this area of solitude and peace, catch the matron's attentions, and her ears swivel back towards the source of noise, her eyes soon following. Sighting her ever elusive mate, Paoro smiles and hops fluidly down from her perch and pads back towards Ahiga - but as she approaches and notices his current less-than-perfect state of health, her smile fades. "Ahiga?" she inquires questioningly, offering a tentative lick of affection to his cheek.
From which Ahiga flinches away, if only slightly. If he's sick, he really doesn't want to spread it, most especially not to Paoro. Otherwise, however, he doesn't move. He needs to rest if he's going to go through with his plan. The chieftain rumbles out a wordless grunt and pauses a moment before he says, "I must leave."
Paoro blinks in surprise. "Leave? Why?" she gently questions, eyes filled with concern looking up to meet Ahiga's own. "The tribe needs you. /I/ need you. What can possibly draw you away from the lands where we've been granted so many blessings?"
Huff, huff, puff. This is not being made any easier for Ahiga, but then again, he didn't expect it to be. "The tribe," he growls, "does not need me to infect it with illness that has otherwise remained outside our borders." He looks sidelong at Paoro, frowning, ears shifted back.
Oh no. The ominous words seem to deafen Paoro's ears after they reach them, the world around her sounding as though heard underwater, as if to shield the matron from any further tragedy in her life. "No... It can't be true. Surely it's some other, milder sickness that will surely pass...?" she trails off, though she is unable to hide her uncertainty in her tone, her emotions already faltering at the thought of losing the mate she's had for so long now. Tears well up in her pale green eyes, wetting the already-present tearmarks along her muzzle. "Not you, Ahiga," she pleads, half to her mate and the other half to the spirits, pressing her muzzle up beneath his chin, uncaring if he might be contagious. To die alongside her mate wouldn't be the most horrible thing fate could throw her way at this point.
Once again, Ahiga flinches at the touch, but he doesn't withdraw immediately. It /is/ a comforting gesture, even if it might prove deadly for Paoro. After a moment's hesitation, he lifts his chin clear of his mate's face and half-rises to his paws to step back from her. "Don't," he utters, but he doesn't elaborate further. His reasons for not wanting contact should be obvious.
Paoro is no stranger to misfortune - losing two of her first litter from famine and one of her sons from disowning his heritage - but faced with the loss of her mate as well, possibly forever, her heart seems as vulnerable as ever. Choking back cries of despair and pleas for Ahiga to stay with her, that she'll be able to figure out some way of caring for him, Paoro has at least enough willpower to not close the gap between Ahiga and herself. "My heart will always be with you, Ahiga. Stay strong, my love." Tears fall down the sides of her muzzle, dying the dirt beneath her paws a shade darker as the droplets fall to the earth.
It takes some doing for Ahiga not to step forward and lick those tears away, but he manages. He /is/ strong, at least mentally--for now. The chances of him returning to this territory are slim; if another male takes over, there is no telling how fit Ahiga would be to fight in the hopes of reclaiming Amaranth. Therefore, there are no promises of returning. The chieftain simply stands silent a moment before turning and slipping off. If he's lucky, he'll reach the border by nightfall.
Paoro has heard that not all of those who become sick are doomed to death, but even those who remain alive are not truly themselves anymore. To her, this is a permanent goodbye, and she feels as though her heart is being ripped out of her chest with each pawstep that takes Ahiga further and further away from her. Tearing her eyes away from the sight of the retreating chief, she turns her muzzle up towards the heavens, tears trailing down her cheeks, as though asking the spirits why they have allowed so much tragedy to befall her family.
The matron has always claimed that the spirits are watching over the tribe - and this seems to be proven true when, out of the darkening sky, a large eagle swoops down to land atop one of the taller formations near to the mourning cougaress. "Paoro, child of shaman blood, we have not forsaken you," the bald eagle calls out to her in a strong voice, appearing to have been eavesdropping to anyone unfamiliar with the beliefs of the Amaranth tribe. "You are a loyal daughter to the spirits, but no one is exempt from the unbiased jaws of Fate."
Paoro looks up when the avian speaks, showing no signs of surprise at his knowing words. Apparently, she has met him before. "I know, Father Eagle...but neither am I exempt from the sorrows and pains of mortal life, either." She takes a moment to recompose herself before continuing - the spirits never visit this realm without some sort of reason, even a minor one. "Why have you come to visit me, spirit? Surely not just to comfort me in my time of need."
"No, for I know you are strong enough to survive this misfortune. I come to offer what little help I can without directly meddling in the affairs of mortals," the bald eagle replies. "My brothers tell me that some of those in other lands who have been affected by the same sickness as your mate talk of having found salvation. A cure, in a place beyond the familiar borders of your tribe, beyond where the rivers meet and end, in an area of little water." He pauses, ruffling his feathers as he does such. "I cannot tell you any more at this point, my child. This quest will take more than just you alone to succeed."
The shaman-in-training listens intently to the eagle's words, committing them to memory until she can share the news with others, both members of her tribe and friends beyond their territory. She nods solemnly in an acknowledging response to the spirit.
The eagle seems to take this silent answer as a conclusion to their meeting, and lifts his wings in a preparation to take off. "Good luck, Paoro. Good luck to you all." With that, the great bird flaps his wings, lifting off of the rock and floating away silently into the night before finally disappearing into the darkness.
=====
[OOC: It appears that the Amaranth are the first to both suffer and benefit from this ailment, with Ahiga leaving the tribe of females to fend for themselves, and Paoro learning of the first key to possible salvation. The altruistic matron will no doubt be interested in quickly delivering the message to the rest of her tribe, and beyond. This is the 'introduction log' to the TP - but the disease has not fully been unleashed on the lands just yet. ;)]
=====
Characters Involved:
Ahiga, male cougar, Amaranth chief
Paoro, female cougar, Amaranth matron
Bald Eagle Spirit
== Stone Formations ==
Sitting atop one of the fallen boulders, worn flat by eroding winds, Paoro stares intently out at the lands surrounding the mountain they call home, slowly rotating her line of vision from the valley to immediate west, to the forest and meadowlands to the north, and finally the lush plains to the east. Her alert countenance seems to be trying to filter out secrets from the very wind itself, eyes focused and ears pricked forward. But she's already heard the whispers from travelers passing through - a sickness that eventually claims the mind - and some rumor the very soul - itself. It concerns her greatly, and if anything, she's attempting to divinate murmurs of help from the spirits.
It is because of these rumors and the way he has been feeling lately that the ever-elusive Ahiga has sought out Paoro. He was hoping against hope that the sickness--if there was one--would stay out of his borders, but he is not so fortunate. Even traveling part of the tribe's territory is too much for him, when he could usually circle half of it in a day without rest. There is also the feeling of unbalance that floods over him frequently. It is with heaving ribs that he approaches the stone formations, stable for the moment. When he spots Paoro, he stops and slowly lowers himself onto his haunches, leaning a shoulder slightly against one of the tall outer rocks. He says nothing, likely from lack of breath as well as respect for the one listening to the spirits.
The sounds of approach, easily heard in this area of solitude and peace, catch the matron's attentions, and her ears swivel back towards the source of noise, her eyes soon following. Sighting her ever elusive mate, Paoro smiles and hops fluidly down from her perch and pads back towards Ahiga - but as she approaches and notices his current less-than-perfect state of health, her smile fades. "Ahiga?" she inquires questioningly, offering a tentative lick of affection to his cheek.
From which Ahiga flinches away, if only slightly. If he's sick, he really doesn't want to spread it, most especially not to Paoro. Otherwise, however, he doesn't move. He needs to rest if he's going to go through with his plan. The chieftain rumbles out a wordless grunt and pauses a moment before he says, "I must leave."
Paoro blinks in surprise. "Leave? Why?" she gently questions, eyes filled with concern looking up to meet Ahiga's own. "The tribe needs you. /I/ need you. What can possibly draw you away from the lands where we've been granted so many blessings?"
Huff, huff, puff. This is not being made any easier for Ahiga, but then again, he didn't expect it to be. "The tribe," he growls, "does not need me to infect it with illness that has otherwise remained outside our borders." He looks sidelong at Paoro, frowning, ears shifted back.
Oh no. The ominous words seem to deafen Paoro's ears after they reach them, the world around her sounding as though heard underwater, as if to shield the matron from any further tragedy in her life. "No... It can't be true. Surely it's some other, milder sickness that will surely pass...?" she trails off, though she is unable to hide her uncertainty in her tone, her emotions already faltering at the thought of losing the mate she's had for so long now. Tears well up in her pale green eyes, wetting the already-present tearmarks along her muzzle. "Not you, Ahiga," she pleads, half to her mate and the other half to the spirits, pressing her muzzle up beneath his chin, uncaring if he might be contagious. To die alongside her mate wouldn't be the most horrible thing fate could throw her way at this point.
Once again, Ahiga flinches at the touch, but he doesn't withdraw immediately. It /is/ a comforting gesture, even if it might prove deadly for Paoro. After a moment's hesitation, he lifts his chin clear of his mate's face and half-rises to his paws to step back from her. "Don't," he utters, but he doesn't elaborate further. His reasons for not wanting contact should be obvious.
Paoro is no stranger to misfortune - losing two of her first litter from famine and one of her sons from disowning his heritage - but faced with the loss of her mate as well, possibly forever, her heart seems as vulnerable as ever. Choking back cries of despair and pleas for Ahiga to stay with her, that she'll be able to figure out some way of caring for him, Paoro has at least enough willpower to not close the gap between Ahiga and herself. "My heart will always be with you, Ahiga. Stay strong, my love." Tears fall down the sides of her muzzle, dying the dirt beneath her paws a shade darker as the droplets fall to the earth.
It takes some doing for Ahiga not to step forward and lick those tears away, but he manages. He /is/ strong, at least mentally--for now. The chances of him returning to this territory are slim; if another male takes over, there is no telling how fit Ahiga would be to fight in the hopes of reclaiming Amaranth. Therefore, there are no promises of returning. The chieftain simply stands silent a moment before turning and slipping off. If he's lucky, he'll reach the border by nightfall.
Paoro has heard that not all of those who become sick are doomed to death, but even those who remain alive are not truly themselves anymore. To her, this is a permanent goodbye, and she feels as though her heart is being ripped out of her chest with each pawstep that takes Ahiga further and further away from her. Tearing her eyes away from the sight of the retreating chief, she turns her muzzle up towards the heavens, tears trailing down her cheeks, as though asking the spirits why they have allowed so much tragedy to befall her family.
The matron has always claimed that the spirits are watching over the tribe - and this seems to be proven true when, out of the darkening sky, a large eagle swoops down to land atop one of the taller formations near to the mourning cougaress. "Paoro, child of shaman blood, we have not forsaken you," the bald eagle calls out to her in a strong voice, appearing to have been eavesdropping to anyone unfamiliar with the beliefs of the Amaranth tribe. "You are a loyal daughter to the spirits, but no one is exempt from the unbiased jaws of Fate."
Paoro looks up when the avian speaks, showing no signs of surprise at his knowing words. Apparently, she has met him before. "I know, Father Eagle...but neither am I exempt from the sorrows and pains of mortal life, either." She takes a moment to recompose herself before continuing - the spirits never visit this realm without some sort of reason, even a minor one. "Why have you come to visit me, spirit? Surely not just to comfort me in my time of need."
"No, for I know you are strong enough to survive this misfortune. I come to offer what little help I can without directly meddling in the affairs of mortals," the bald eagle replies. "My brothers tell me that some of those in other lands who have been affected by the same sickness as your mate talk of having found salvation. A cure, in a place beyond the familiar borders of your tribe, beyond where the rivers meet and end, in an area of little water." He pauses, ruffling his feathers as he does such. "I cannot tell you any more at this point, my child. This quest will take more than just you alone to succeed."
The shaman-in-training listens intently to the eagle's words, committing them to memory until she can share the news with others, both members of her tribe and friends beyond their territory. She nods solemnly in an acknowledging response to the spirit.
The eagle seems to take this silent answer as a conclusion to their meeting, and lifts his wings in a preparation to take off. "Good luck, Paoro. Good luck to you all." With that, the great bird flaps his wings, lifting off of the rock and floating away silently into the night before finally disappearing into the darkness.
=====
[OOC: It appears that the Amaranth are the first to both suffer and benefit from this ailment, with Ahiga leaving the tribe of females to fend for themselves, and Paoro learning of the first key to possible salvation. The altruistic matron will no doubt be interested in quickly delivering the message to the rest of her tribe, and beyond. This is the 'introduction log' to the TP - but the disease has not fully been unleashed on the lands just yet. ;)]