Post by braxton on Nov 1, 2008 17:17:32 GMT -5
Chesmu is resting after a long day of his own border patrol... and keeping a wary eye inward. Imala is here... somewhere. And certainly she could be turning members of the tribe further away from him? A conspiracy perhaps. Eyetwitch. The former Chieftain and most certainly the greatest disgrace of Amaranth history lies on his side, calculating.
The shamaness has been as busy as ever these past couple of days, reconnecting with old friends and family, discovering new ones, performing prayers and rituals to determine her best course of action. Returning now from the cliffs to the west, she comes across the deposed chieftain, pausing mid-step. She hasn't seen him since she left nor since hearing of the recent events involving him, and she considers briefly before continuing her approach. "Chesmu.
Chesmu's ear turns to the sound of his name being called. Now there is a voice that he has not heard in a long time. Chesmu wonders what brings Paoro back to the lands. Perhaps life is not going as well with Ahiga? Or perhaps word has passed of his actions? Or even... eyetwitch... Imala had spoken with her? Surely that may be it. What sort of things has his mother spoken up to her? Eyetwitch. "Paoro." Chesmu says respectfully.
Paoro's expression is more sad than angry, pale green eyes watching Chesmu closely, a thin frown on her maw. "What happened?" Her question isn't accusatory, or even a direct launch into reprimanding -- merely wondering what went wrong. She settles down onto her haunches to get as comfortable as she can, waiting for the male's response.
Chesmu eyes Paoro a bit, quickly sizing her up as a threat to him. Would she turn against him if his mother had said so? His eye twitches as he finally speaks to Paoro. "It seems that things have worked against me. Perhaps for the..." Eyetwitch. "...better of the tribe. Perhaps I was not meant to be Chieftain." And Chesmu's developing madness overrides his thoughts, and paranoia shows through with another twitch of the eye. "Or perhaps, I was a fine Chieftain, and there's been..." Eyetwitch. "...forces against me."
The aging shamaness certainly doesn't look like a threat, even if she were prone to violence. "I think only you can determine the true answer to that, Chesmu," she answers neutrally, encouraging the male to look inward and figure out his conflicts himself. Which may not be the best of suggestions in his current mental state. "But I do not think my judgement was completely wrong when I asked you to return with me so long ago. Something has changed, Chesmu, that much is true. But I do not know whether that change occurred within or without."
It is now your pose.
A part of Chesmu, possibly the part that remains sane and reasonable, the part that has remorse for his actions feels comfort at Paoro explaining that things have changed. However, it seems the former Chieftain is mostly lost to his madness. Chesmu chuckles wryly. "Change is a way to validate our very..." Eyetwitch. "...meaning and purpose, Maulisho. Perhaps I was meant to cause..." Eyetwitch. "...harm. Is there any real way to learn the cause of change? Perhaps they must stay the same. Perhaps then..." Eyetwitch. "...*they*... would never have conspired against me to remove me as Chieftain."
Paoro shakes her head. "I do not think so, Chesmu. I have seen darkness in others before...if I had seen such a potential for harm in you, I certainly would have not allowed you to step foot within my family's lands, much less take my eldest daughter for your mate to father my own grandchildren." Even if the shamaness is attempting to be as calm and collected as possible, it's hard not to miss the subdued anger in those last words. "And I don't know about 'conspiring', brother, but I will admit that I will trust the feelings of my blood and kin long before I believe the suspicious claims of one outside my family." She considers the male intensely for a moment, her eyes peering directly into his own for as long as he'll allow her to, as though the shamaness were attempting to gaze right into his own inner thoughts and feelings. "You are not well."
Again, the sane part of Chesmu almost longs to be apart from what he has become, to beg Paoro for help. Unfortunately, as Paoro aptly said, Chesmu is not well. "I appreciate the confidence, Paoro." Chesmu says. "Am I not part of your..." Eyetwitch. "...family? Would one such as you if you had the best interests of all others at heart not understand when one feels he is being..." Eyetwitched. "...sabotaged? I am well, I don't feel ill."
Paoro frowns. "I will not repeat what I have already said in response to your claims, Chesmu. Just know this. Whatever has changed, it may be best for you to move on and find a new place to call your own before things become worse. Because if things continue as I have heard them to be going, especially if any harm comes to my family as a result, I will not suffer things lightly." Her words could be interpreted as a threat, but they are not uttered in anything other than a mildly warning tone that one might hear from a mother advising her child not to go out past dark.
Chesmu is paranoid and mad. He takes this as a threat. Eyetwitch. "Since when has Paoro turned away those in need? You are incapable of helping me, or simply..." Eyetwitch. "...unwilling? This is my son's territory now... and you are not..." Eyetwitch. "...matron. Perhaps you are one of them? Among those who took my daughter from me? Words cannot describe the..." Eyetwitch. "...pain I feel from losing Nayeli."
Paoro shakes her head in disappointment. "You are not well, Chesmu. I am not turning you away - you refuse to admit you are sick, and so you are refusing my aid. And if you are refusing to let me try to make you better, then I cannot trust a sick and upset male around my family." She rises to all fours once again, shaking the dust out of her coat. "I am not matron, no. But neither are you chief. And your son is -my- grandson, Chesmu. And I -am- still the shamaness, who you know more than anyone has at least equal say in tribe matters." She brushes off the male's last comment. "I have already sent for my granddaughter again. But if you wish to speak about pain, then you tell me how it feels to think your mate dead for many moons. To watch one of your sons slowly give himself up to the pull of darkness. Any pain you have felt is a result of these 'changes' that have occurred in my absence, Chesmu, and I dare say that these things have come about as a result of your own actions." Her fur bristles, her words rather harsh for the normally demure shamaness. "You are not the chief anymore, nor are you related by blood to the matron's line. As such, you are considered a rogue male within our borders, and if you dare to challenge my or Yuma's authority, then I cannot promise to protect you instead of my family."
For several moments, Chesmu stares, hardened, against Paoro. Great threat. Dangerous. But what can he do against this female who took him in as Chieftain, who even now somewhat voiced a bit of confidence in the goodness in him. The sane portion screams for Chesmu to admit he needs help, to accept the fact that Paoro is right and that he is not well. Chesmu trembles a bit, but tries to keep his position solid. "I'm... not... well?" Chesmu says. "Even if I were to agree with you, what good would your help do me? I can see it in you...." Eyetwitch. "...you... and my son... are planning to eject me. Throw me out."
Paoro's demeanor softens when Chesmu at least entertains the idea. "I can try to make you feel better," she explains simply. "And you are correct. I am planning that. Under the condition that you are not improving, or at least attempting to do so, whether by yourself or with the aid of others. That condition can be broken." She settles back down again, her joints not appreciating the prolonged standing in place, her tail curling around her forepaws. "You can make your own decisions, Chesmu. I had faith in your ability to do such when I gave my blessing to you in becoming chief. And a proper chief would know when it is best to stand down and make sacrifices for the better of his family -- or else he is not a worthy chieftain after all." The shamaness would know -- Ahiga did exactly the same thing, in an eerily similar situation, though his illness was a physical one rather than a mental one.
Chesmu is visibly in an internal turmoil now. The sane part of him longing to get help from Paoro, no doubt the only cougar who could even help him... the paranoid and mad part of him believing that Paoro is attempting to subvert some control over him before throwing him from the territory. "I stood down..." Eyetwitch. "...of my own accord. I-I hurt somebody dear to me... just as I am hurting everyone now." It seems the sane part is wining out for now. "I am afraid... of myself... of you... of my son... of..." Eyetwitch. "...myself." He may not be explicitly be asking for help... but this moment, just now, may or may not be the only window Chesmu had to recovery, even if it means he'll never be the same, or with his children. "Afraid... fear... afraid... fear..."
Paoro's eyes are sad as she watches the once-proud chieftain struggle, lamenting what has become of him. She rises once again, turning back towards the west and her beloved garden of wildflowers. "Come." She will not force him, but she will not ask again. It is his decision to make. She carries herself as well as she can, even on stiff ankles, slinking off into the near distance.
Chesmu had struggled as much now as he did, then. But he forces himself to follow Paoro, hoping she could help him. Even if it's just for a moment. He steps tentatively through the field toward Paoro.
Paoro noses around in the snowed-over field, uncovering the withered remains of what few leaves and blooms have managed to survive the cold of winter. Pawing at various spaces in the thin layer of ice, she attempts to find the particular herb she's seeking out, pausing to nibble on a few nettle plants for her own benefit. Finally, she finds a small frozen patch of skullcap, the little purple flowers still present, apparently preserved by the frost. "Eat these," she instructs, pointing them out to the male. "They may provide you with a bit more clarity about your actions, and thus help you realize what is best for you to do." The shamaness knows that her own mother, who Chesmu did not have the dubious pleasure of knowing, often was in a much calmer (and slightly less senile) mood after nibbling on these particular plants, and imagines they might have a similar effect on the male.
Chesmu steps tentatively to the flowers, and dips down and bites down on the flowers. He finds them bitter. Resisting the urge to gag. He finally finishes eating the flowers, licking his muzzle. "I don't care for the flavor." Chesmu doesn't eyetwitch, though. He finally takes a seat before Paoro.
Paoro watches Chesmu as he eats, and afterwards. "I cannot say yet what is causing your sickness," she admits, "at least, not without much effort. But perhaps this will help, at least temporarily." She winces, shifting her weight slightly. "I fear the cold is not agreeing with my joints. I'll be returning to the den to rest, now...we will speak again soon, Chesmu." Her tone is hopeful, at least. She turns back towards the east, starting the short journey back to the slope at the far edge of the mesa.
Chesmu watches after Paoro as she leaves. He winces, he can feel his mind clearing a bit, and it makes him feel all the worse, emotionally speaking. Oh spirits, what has he done?
The shamaness has been as busy as ever these past couple of days, reconnecting with old friends and family, discovering new ones, performing prayers and rituals to determine her best course of action. Returning now from the cliffs to the west, she comes across the deposed chieftain, pausing mid-step. She hasn't seen him since she left nor since hearing of the recent events involving him, and she considers briefly before continuing her approach. "Chesmu.
Chesmu's ear turns to the sound of his name being called. Now there is a voice that he has not heard in a long time. Chesmu wonders what brings Paoro back to the lands. Perhaps life is not going as well with Ahiga? Or perhaps word has passed of his actions? Or even... eyetwitch... Imala had spoken with her? Surely that may be it. What sort of things has his mother spoken up to her? Eyetwitch. "Paoro." Chesmu says respectfully.
Paoro's expression is more sad than angry, pale green eyes watching Chesmu closely, a thin frown on her maw. "What happened?" Her question isn't accusatory, or even a direct launch into reprimanding -- merely wondering what went wrong. She settles down onto her haunches to get as comfortable as she can, waiting for the male's response.
Chesmu eyes Paoro a bit, quickly sizing her up as a threat to him. Would she turn against him if his mother had said so? His eye twitches as he finally speaks to Paoro. "It seems that things have worked against me. Perhaps for the..." Eyetwitch. "...better of the tribe. Perhaps I was not meant to be Chieftain." And Chesmu's developing madness overrides his thoughts, and paranoia shows through with another twitch of the eye. "Or perhaps, I was a fine Chieftain, and there's been..." Eyetwitch. "...forces against me."
The aging shamaness certainly doesn't look like a threat, even if she were prone to violence. "I think only you can determine the true answer to that, Chesmu," she answers neutrally, encouraging the male to look inward and figure out his conflicts himself. Which may not be the best of suggestions in his current mental state. "But I do not think my judgement was completely wrong when I asked you to return with me so long ago. Something has changed, Chesmu, that much is true. But I do not know whether that change occurred within or without."
It is now your pose.
A part of Chesmu, possibly the part that remains sane and reasonable, the part that has remorse for his actions feels comfort at Paoro explaining that things have changed. However, it seems the former Chieftain is mostly lost to his madness. Chesmu chuckles wryly. "Change is a way to validate our very..." Eyetwitch. "...meaning and purpose, Maulisho. Perhaps I was meant to cause..." Eyetwitch. "...harm. Is there any real way to learn the cause of change? Perhaps they must stay the same. Perhaps then..." Eyetwitch. "...*they*... would never have conspired against me to remove me as Chieftain."
Paoro shakes her head. "I do not think so, Chesmu. I have seen darkness in others before...if I had seen such a potential for harm in you, I certainly would have not allowed you to step foot within my family's lands, much less take my eldest daughter for your mate to father my own grandchildren." Even if the shamaness is attempting to be as calm and collected as possible, it's hard not to miss the subdued anger in those last words. "And I don't know about 'conspiring', brother, but I will admit that I will trust the feelings of my blood and kin long before I believe the suspicious claims of one outside my family." She considers the male intensely for a moment, her eyes peering directly into his own for as long as he'll allow her to, as though the shamaness were attempting to gaze right into his own inner thoughts and feelings. "You are not well."
Again, the sane part of Chesmu almost longs to be apart from what he has become, to beg Paoro for help. Unfortunately, as Paoro aptly said, Chesmu is not well. "I appreciate the confidence, Paoro." Chesmu says. "Am I not part of your..." Eyetwitch. "...family? Would one such as you if you had the best interests of all others at heart not understand when one feels he is being..." Eyetwitched. "...sabotaged? I am well, I don't feel ill."
Paoro frowns. "I will not repeat what I have already said in response to your claims, Chesmu. Just know this. Whatever has changed, it may be best for you to move on and find a new place to call your own before things become worse. Because if things continue as I have heard them to be going, especially if any harm comes to my family as a result, I will not suffer things lightly." Her words could be interpreted as a threat, but they are not uttered in anything other than a mildly warning tone that one might hear from a mother advising her child not to go out past dark.
Chesmu is paranoid and mad. He takes this as a threat. Eyetwitch. "Since when has Paoro turned away those in need? You are incapable of helping me, or simply..." Eyetwitch. "...unwilling? This is my son's territory now... and you are not..." Eyetwitch. "...matron. Perhaps you are one of them? Among those who took my daughter from me? Words cannot describe the..." Eyetwitch. "...pain I feel from losing Nayeli."
Paoro shakes her head in disappointment. "You are not well, Chesmu. I am not turning you away - you refuse to admit you are sick, and so you are refusing my aid. And if you are refusing to let me try to make you better, then I cannot trust a sick and upset male around my family." She rises to all fours once again, shaking the dust out of her coat. "I am not matron, no. But neither are you chief. And your son is -my- grandson, Chesmu. And I -am- still the shamaness, who you know more than anyone has at least equal say in tribe matters." She brushes off the male's last comment. "I have already sent for my granddaughter again. But if you wish to speak about pain, then you tell me how it feels to think your mate dead for many moons. To watch one of your sons slowly give himself up to the pull of darkness. Any pain you have felt is a result of these 'changes' that have occurred in my absence, Chesmu, and I dare say that these things have come about as a result of your own actions." Her fur bristles, her words rather harsh for the normally demure shamaness. "You are not the chief anymore, nor are you related by blood to the matron's line. As such, you are considered a rogue male within our borders, and if you dare to challenge my or Yuma's authority, then I cannot promise to protect you instead of my family."
For several moments, Chesmu stares, hardened, against Paoro. Great threat. Dangerous. But what can he do against this female who took him in as Chieftain, who even now somewhat voiced a bit of confidence in the goodness in him. The sane portion screams for Chesmu to admit he needs help, to accept the fact that Paoro is right and that he is not well. Chesmu trembles a bit, but tries to keep his position solid. "I'm... not... well?" Chesmu says. "Even if I were to agree with you, what good would your help do me? I can see it in you...." Eyetwitch. "...you... and my son... are planning to eject me. Throw me out."
Paoro's demeanor softens when Chesmu at least entertains the idea. "I can try to make you feel better," she explains simply. "And you are correct. I am planning that. Under the condition that you are not improving, or at least attempting to do so, whether by yourself or with the aid of others. That condition can be broken." She settles back down again, her joints not appreciating the prolonged standing in place, her tail curling around her forepaws. "You can make your own decisions, Chesmu. I had faith in your ability to do such when I gave my blessing to you in becoming chief. And a proper chief would know when it is best to stand down and make sacrifices for the better of his family -- or else he is not a worthy chieftain after all." The shamaness would know -- Ahiga did exactly the same thing, in an eerily similar situation, though his illness was a physical one rather than a mental one.
Chesmu is visibly in an internal turmoil now. The sane part of him longing to get help from Paoro, no doubt the only cougar who could even help him... the paranoid and mad part of him believing that Paoro is attempting to subvert some control over him before throwing him from the territory. "I stood down..." Eyetwitch. "...of my own accord. I-I hurt somebody dear to me... just as I am hurting everyone now." It seems the sane part is wining out for now. "I am afraid... of myself... of you... of my son... of..." Eyetwitch. "...myself." He may not be explicitly be asking for help... but this moment, just now, may or may not be the only window Chesmu had to recovery, even if it means he'll never be the same, or with his children. "Afraid... fear... afraid... fear..."
Paoro's eyes are sad as she watches the once-proud chieftain struggle, lamenting what has become of him. She rises once again, turning back towards the west and her beloved garden of wildflowers. "Come." She will not force him, but she will not ask again. It is his decision to make. She carries herself as well as she can, even on stiff ankles, slinking off into the near distance.
Chesmu had struggled as much now as he did, then. But he forces himself to follow Paoro, hoping she could help him. Even if it's just for a moment. He steps tentatively through the field toward Paoro.
Paoro noses around in the snowed-over field, uncovering the withered remains of what few leaves and blooms have managed to survive the cold of winter. Pawing at various spaces in the thin layer of ice, she attempts to find the particular herb she's seeking out, pausing to nibble on a few nettle plants for her own benefit. Finally, she finds a small frozen patch of skullcap, the little purple flowers still present, apparently preserved by the frost. "Eat these," she instructs, pointing them out to the male. "They may provide you with a bit more clarity about your actions, and thus help you realize what is best for you to do." The shamaness knows that her own mother, who Chesmu did not have the dubious pleasure of knowing, often was in a much calmer (and slightly less senile) mood after nibbling on these particular plants, and imagines they might have a similar effect on the male.
Chesmu steps tentatively to the flowers, and dips down and bites down on the flowers. He finds them bitter. Resisting the urge to gag. He finally finishes eating the flowers, licking his muzzle. "I don't care for the flavor." Chesmu doesn't eyetwitch, though. He finally takes a seat before Paoro.
Paoro watches Chesmu as he eats, and afterwards. "I cannot say yet what is causing your sickness," she admits, "at least, not without much effort. But perhaps this will help, at least temporarily." She winces, shifting her weight slightly. "I fear the cold is not agreeing with my joints. I'll be returning to the den to rest, now...we will speak again soon, Chesmu." Her tone is hopeful, at least. She turns back towards the east, starting the short journey back to the slope at the far edge of the mesa.
Chesmu watches after Paoro as she leaves. He winces, he can feel his mind clearing a bit, and it makes him feel all the worse, emotionally speaking. Oh spirits, what has he done?