[ P ] Igneous is Bliss

How I drifted farther away from the coast

Eyes were wide as saucers full of sparkling galaxies as they found a location within their homelands they had never been before, only heard stories about from the local fisherman they used to see on a daily basis growing up. Still saw fairly often but not nearly as much. They hadn’t been the best at listening to them but they could remember things about the fae and other superstitions that lined these large pillars, perhaps even more peculiar than the castles and cottages that speckled Rionnach from head to toe. At least those were in chunks, these were just huge stone mounds even an army of wolves couldn’t move in their oh so well educated opinion. For them to be perfectly placed in a circle, surely nature alone didn’t do this and it only added to their belief in something magical being involved in this world.

The fae had always been a mixed topic for them, it helped in their fantasies growing up when they’d play with their siblings or sneak up on their father trying to save him from an evil little leprechaun he was unaware of. To say they toted around these beliefs in their regular life though, well they certainly didn’t go around bolstering it like they did their other causes.

Tip toeing over to the stones, they started to sniff around them, looking for signs of life, any symbol to weigh in on how strong that belief was. No little winged creatures popped out, not this time of year as the cold of winter kept the bees and other bugs away they might think were pixies in disguise. All in all, there wasn’t anything immensely crazy about this place, it wasn’t living up to their expectation as they cocked their head back to look up as they flopped their booty down in front of one. Where was the silk that spindled from one stone to the next? The fairies?

Suddenly they sprang to their feet to bolt out of the inner circle, realizing this was a fairy circle of stone. “Please don’t be angry at Cory,” they pleaded at the stones, as if they would answer back. It felt like they did as a gust of wind came in to tussle their mane of plush fur causing them to giggle from it tickling their chin. They felt like they were forgiven and were just being teased. Deciding to prance around the pillars, eager to play with the bits of snow that was swirled into the air, dancing around with it for a moment before stopping in place as it sprinkled back down onto their face.

code & art by claerie

Brann had made up his mind some days ago that he was going to pay a visit to the Standing Stones. They were a sacred place, touched by the Fae, protected by their magick, a place only Highlanders could go. It was the place where he felt closest to the Fae, where he felt he could ask them questions, feel their answers — it was a place that cleared his mind with its purity, untouched by the confines of Rionnach’s political system. The ‘King’ and ‘Parliament’ held no sway over the Standing Stones, this much Brann knew with utmost certainty. It was the last place that stood against the corruption that polluted everything else about the Kingdom, that corruption that tried so hard to make the Highlanders bend their knees in fielty.

Brann walked quickly, his paws moving in steady fluid motion over the ground as he moved closer and closer to his destination. His pace slowed as a scent touched his nose, the air frigid and unmoving at the moment. The scent lead in the same direction he was moving, not something carried along by the wind. He couldn’t help but frown slightly. ‘Well, at least this close to the Standing Stones, at least I know they’re another Highlander — I won’t have to worry about too much, I don’t think,’ Brann thought to himself. He couldn’t help the sigh of slight disappointment that he heaved, however, as his head lowered slightly. His pace picked back up, curious now of the stranger he smelled.

‘Perhaps they are not a wolf at all — perhaps it is one of the Fae in a mortal form. I shall have to see,’ he continued to ramble to himself in his mind, meandering through thoughts that came to the forefront as his troubles were, for the time, forgotten.

“Please don’t be angry at Cory,” a voice up ahead spoke, pleading with something. Brann peered out of the brush towards the circle of stones, spying the other wolf as he heard the last of their spoken words. The other was alone? Brann tilted his head slightly, curious about that simple fact. Were they… speaking to the Stones? It wouldn’t be the strangest thing that Brann had seen here, over the years.

“I do not think the Stones will be angry — nor the Fae,” Brann said quietly, as he emerged from his hiding place amongst the brush. Leaves clung to his thick, shaggy pelt, twigs threatening to fall from the hairs that they stuck to. He took a moment, glancing back towards his side before he gave himself a shake. “Do you come here to speak with the Fae, too?” He asked, curiously, eyeing the stranger with cautious two-toned eyes.


@Cordelia

table code © ashon

How I drifted farther away from the coast

They jumped at the rustle of foliage, turning away from the stone to look at what could ever be making such a mixture of noises. At first they thought it was a druid due to the draping of nature in his furs but as they spoke, thye were quick to realize that wasn’t the case at all. Taking in the appearance of the other a little more, it was apparent it was another wolf, one not horribly different in size to them. “Oooo how do ya know? Can you hear them, handsome friend?” their tail wagged, looking at him expectantly.

They started to nod their head up and down as they went to answer the question, not thinking at all before speaking. “Yeeeeee-No!” corrected mid way into saying yes. They realized, no, they had not come here to talk to the fae. That would be one dandy lie though! Quickly they shifted to shaking their head no as they proceeded to reinforce the second one was the right one. “Nope. Nope. Nope. Not intentionally at least, hehe. I stumbled across this place running from the enforcers after asking them a very important question,” they said, sounding semi-proud of themselves before their ears splayed on their head as if trying to hear the very being they were speaking about. “Maybe the Fae wanted to talk to me instead and made this place form in front of me to guide me to safety. Think it’s called the Skipping Stones according to all the gramps where I live. No… Standing Stones! That’s it!” they bumbled their thoughts out loud, offering the male a beaming smile as they spoke in an oddly energetic yet subdued manner.

That smile would suddenly disappear and they became hypervigilant, moving toward him without really any warning to look him right in the eyes a hair’s length away from his face, examining him thoroughly. “Nope! Def not a King Drone. Ya got too pretty of eyes for that,” they concluded, nodding twice to themselves in satisfaction. Not even bothering to ask if he was a soldier, confident in their own perception of others off a single glance. It only failed them a few dozen times. Couldn’t possibly happen again.

“Whatcha wanna talk to the fae about, if I may so ask?”they asked curiously, settling down right in front of him without any respect for personal space, having not backed away much at all after having grown so close. Their nose did lean forward to attempt to tidy a couple leaves in his fur if he allowed it.

code & art by claerie

Brann quirked an eyebrow slightly at the other’s slight jump but did not think much of it. He didn’t realize, admittedly, how he looked upon his emergence from the brush. Perhaps if he’d had something reflective he would have chuckled a bit at his appearance. The other wolf seemed to study him, perhaps determining if he was a threat or not. As they began to speak, Brann’s ears angled forward ever so slightly.

“Oooo how do ya know? Can you hear them, handsome friend?” The other asked. Brann dipped his head slightly before he took a breath to speak, two-tone gaze looking at the other and determining that at first appearance they seemed friendly enough. Nothing in the air said that they were bad, nothing said that they did not belong at the Standing Stones.

“Perhaps not so much in words — but I have learned to read their signs well enough. They do not speak with words, but rather, they speak in the way the breeze shifts, or a feeling you get, sometimes even a thought occurring to you could be them,” Brann said calmly, speaking gently as if speaking of an old friend when he spoke of the Fae. While their powers were something to fear at times, Brann knew that as long as he stayed in balance with nature, and the laws of the land, he would be safe in terms of the Fae.

He watched as the other began nodding, beginning to give an affirmation before deciding to not.

“Yeeeeee - No!” The other said, the sudden change in words making Brann tilt his head to the side in curiosity. “Nope. Nope. Nope. Not intentionally at least, hehe. I stumbled across this palace running from the enforcers after asking them a very important question.” The other said. Enforcers? He assumed that the other meant Imperial soldiers, but he could be wrong in the assumption.

“Enforcers? From the Imperial Army?” He asked.

“Maybe the Fae wanted to talk to me instead and made this place form in front of me to guide me to safety. Think its called the Skipping Stones according to all the gramps where I live. No… Standing Stones! That’s it!” The other seemed innocent, almost childish to a degree.

“Standing Stone, yes,” Brann said with a dip of his head. “Well, if it was the Imperial Army you were running from, I doubt many of them are Highlanders. You’re safe here, from them — only Highlanders are allowed here. The Fae see to that quite nicely,” he chuckled, glancing towards the spotless stones that stood straight, their grey surfaces stark against the otherwise brown and muted wintergreen of the forest around them. The moment, however, did not last as the other approached Brann. He eyed them curiously, wondering what they were doing as they approached, getting a little closer than perhaps he would have liked. But, he did not say anything, instead, simply observed the situation with a curious eye.

“Nope! Def not a King Drone. Ya got too pretty of eyes for that,” the other said, giving a couple of nods. Brann’s ears twitched back slightly.

“Thank ye?” He said, a little confused for a moment. He brushed it off, however, as they began to speak once more.

“Whatcha wanna talk to the fae about, if I may so ask?” The other settled down in front of him, beginning to pick a couple of still-clinging leaves from his fur. Brann watched for a moment before he shrugged slightly.

“I come to speak to them when I have worries,” he explained, keeping his statement vague, not wanting to divulge personal facts so quickly. “The Fae have always guided me in the knowledge that I need to keep my family right and true to this land.” He glanced towards the stones, eyeing them for a moment.

“But it seems they had other plans, today. Perhaps they have pushed us here together for some reason or another. Things usually do not happen by chance, when it comes to things somehow revolving around the Fae,” Brann explained, looking back toward the other. “I’m Brann of the MacCroin Clan. Who are you, if I may ask?”


@Cordelia

table code © ashon

How I drifted farther away from the coast

Their eyes flooded with newfound enthusiasm as the other had started to silently say yes to being able to hear the fae or perhaps the stones, didn’t matter to them any which, their attention had only been captured all the more. That magnetic gaze would dull a touch at it not being in the form of words, that said it did not deter them from listening with their full attention, doing their best to keep still. Once the speech was done, they let out a long hum as they thought about it before nodding. “Then they talk to me too! Quite often, though they don't always tell me the right thing to do. Little deviants they are, causing mischief,” a slight frown on their face, having gotten in trouble a lot over the years for one thing or another. Not that they were trying to blame it on the hidden entities, but it was usually those little oddities they spotted in nature that would cause them to careen in the complete wrong direction. Most of the time it was fun, such a thought brought a smile back to their ivory muzzle.

That smile only broadened when the man asked if they meant the soldier, giving a little nod again but this time meaning it instead of getting sidetracked. “You’d be surprised! Plenty work up this way, be it for assignment or cause they live up here. Some are nice but others are such a strict snore fest. It’s the ones that bite first and think second ya gotta look out for,” they warned. They didn’t hate the soldiers; they once were one but that didn’t mean the beasts didn’t cause thorns in their paws. That’s what happens when you go awol then end up on the other side of the playing field. They’d like to think they still have lots of friends on the other side but each time they crossed paths with an old colleague or superior, it seemed like they were inches from cuffs at all times. It was such a drag, granted there was usually a reason for it; they just didn’t agree punishment was needed.

It was the laws that were unfair! The King! Everyone else involved that was just following orders, like they used to, shouldn’t be hated for what they were told to do.

A sigh flaring their nostrils for a second, attention span slowly shifting back to their company at the wee bit of thanks. “I mean it, your eyes are really pretty! Like the ventral side of a malachite butterfly wing!” they chirped after a brief pause, not sure if that was why the appreciation was in the form of a question.

Moving around the leaves, taking some out while putting others in more appealing places, even bending down for a second to snag frost preserved flowers to stick at the base of his ear. They didn’t really think at all if the closeness was bothering him since he had no reaction to it. Being one of four siblings, space was never something on their mind.

There were little notes here and there that would buzz from them, as if humming a tune stuck in their head without a care in the world each time they liked or disliked something. Those actions would come to a pause to look at him as a name was offered and this time a question poised. They thought for a second, deciding which name they identified with the most today.

“With pleasure, Brann! I’m Cordie of the Aberdeen Seafarers, at your humble service,” hopping to their feet to give a little bow with a paw to their chest and a charming smile and wink. If they had a top hat, they may have flipped it down their arm to catch and tip it to their new friend but alas, no such showmanship could be made. They could only hope their smile alone could win them some heart points. Pulling themselves out of the pose, they gently attempted to boop a paw onto his nose, trying to shake any tension that may or may not exist in the male’s body with a gentle giggle. “And hmmm maybe they want me to ease your worries? Bet ya eyes are even prettier when you are fully relaxed and smiling.”

code & art by claerie

Brann, as he studied the other, found his gaze lingering on their eyes. A brilliant, emotive blue, that made it easy enough for him to read the other — or so he thought. ‘What if you’re being deceived?’ His own voice whispered to him in the back of his mind. ‘No,’ Brann told himself. ‘That’s not what’s happening here.’ His brows pinched together slightly, going back to their normal positioning once the stranger began speaking again.

“Then they talk to me too! Quite often, though they don’t always tell me the right thing to do. Little deviants they are, causing mischief.” Brann couldn’t help but chuckle at this, nodding slightly.

“When they want to be, they can be quite the tricksters — that’s why you usually bring an offering of some sort when you have something serious to ask them on,” he stated, offering a small shrug. Today, he did not bring an offering with him. Perhaps it was a stranger way to attempt to interact with the Fae, but it was the way that Brann had been raised to do it. Treat them as something more than yourself, because ultimately, they were more than the humble, mortal wolves that attempted to speak with them.

“You’d be surprised! Plenty work up this way, be it for assignments or cause they live up here. Some are nice but others are such a strict snore fest. It’s the ones that bite first and think second ya gotta look out for,” the stranger said. Brann almost scoffed. It was difficult to think of any of the Imperial Army as good, if only because his interactions with them had only ever been bad. Sure, they were doing a job, he recognized that. But… it was a job they willingly did. They could say no, and abandon their post if they genuinely felt they were doing something wrong by encroaching upon the Highlander’s rights to govern themselves. The Chieftan flicked an ear.

“I don’t have much patience for the Imperial Army — or any of Rionnach’s government for that matter. My family handles their own matters, and we always have,” Brann said. It was clear which side of things he stood upon in that moment, what hills he was willing to die upon. His gaze drifted for a moment, lingering on the towering stones but a few paces away, when the stranger spoke once more, bringing him back to the present.

“I mean it, your eyes are really pretty! Like the ventral side of a malachite butterfly wing!” The stranger said. Brann tilted his head slightly to the side.

“I don’t know what that is, but I’ll take your word for it,” he said quietly, feeling daft for a moment like his world was small and the world of the stranger before him was so big. It was a common sensation when faced with those that were either outside of the Highlands, or those within that had traveled to see the rest of the massive kingdom. Brann, a little lost in his thoughts, turned his head to watch the stranger fuss with the leaves in his coat, his gaze distant and absent from the present.

“With pleasure, Brann! I’m Cordie of the Aberdeen Seafaerers, at your humble service,” The stranger said, as they hopped to their paws, giving a small bow. A smile. A wink. Brann couldn’t help but chuckle just a little — this stranger, Cordie as he now knew them as was quite the character. “And hmmm maybe they want me to ease your worries? Bet ya eyes are even prettier when you are fully relaxed and smiling.”

“How do you aim to achieve that?” Brann asked curiously, eyeing Cordie with a quizzical gaze. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, by the way, Cordie of the Aberdeen Seafarers.” The Cheiftan added, with a small dip of his head.


@Cordelia

table code © ashon

How I drifted farther away from the coast

The little bit of amusement that came from him would brighten that gaze again, tail swaying gently behind them as he spoke more about the entities. A gift? Whatever kind of gift would something so powerful even want? The question wouldn’t be uttered, however, feeling like getting ideas from someone else made a gift less special than if it came from the heart. It was perplexing as they got lost in thought, trying to think of something, anything. Head would tilt as they subconsciously watched him for a few moments before that gaze would flicker up to the stones they had begged for forgiveness moments ago. If nature were their power then bringing them flowers or the like wouldn’t do. That would be like giving someone their own fur as a present, talk about creepy!

What they had to say next would make a mildly glum expression take over their features, though not for perhaps the more obvious reasons one might think based on the conversation. That waned smile would turn to him, so small now but trying to stay chipper if only for the other’s sake. “I wanted to be a valiant knight or paladin so much as a tyke, so I joined the army when I was a yearling. It wasn’t everything I had hoped it to be, realizing it held none of my values at all. They also killed Pops for no reason besides him being a Highlander, it seems like,” they started, tears welling up in their eyes at the thought of the old navy man they had looked up to so much. It had been so long since they last heard his voice and giggled at being called Little Shark. That ache only swelling up at the more recent passing of mum as well, that might have been prevented if…. Ears would fall as their gaze faded from the other to look at their paws. Not wanting any pity points, they briskly pawed away the tears from their face before it could well up and cascade down their cheeks so they might refocus on what they were getting at.

Sniffling a little and letting out a nervous breathy chuckle to sound fine, they spoke again. “ I deserted my post a long time ago and now I seem to be the army punching bag but I don’t see anyone as all bad besides maybe the King. There's good in everyone, just as there's bad in everyone too.” Their voice regained some of that chipper tone as the curve of their lips returned more as well. Though to say they looked as happy as before was an overstatement. In truth, it hurt a little to think he might not give them the time of day if they had met in the past and admittedly, in the back of their mind they thought such a confession would turn him against them in an instant. They loved company, friends but the truth often left them with none at all when neither side trusted them.

The talk of eyes and butterflies though would take away that looming sorrow, batting all the moisture away that might remain, blue orbs seeming all the more vibrant from the gloss of ocular irritation. Surprise would only bring more radiance as they couldn’t believe their ears at him not knowing what a butterfly was! Or maybe he meant something else but they wouldn’t mutter anything else just yet, feeling like that conversation had come to pass in the moment when introductions had come in plenty, seconds later.

“The pleasure is all mine, Brann of the MacCroin Clan!” they giggled merrily, deciding to address him in the same way and it would help glue it to memory. Slowly taking a couple steps back to look at their handiwork, one eye closed as if taking a picture before allowing their infectious smile to gain some traction. “Well…” they cooed, tilting their head as they did what they did best; not think and just let something around them decide for them. “If it was a less cold season, Cordie would take you to see the butterflies, nature's pixies! Buuuuut since it’s so chilly willy-” they paused to saunter closer again, looking about to give him a smooch before teetering to the side at the last second to swiftly smack his rump with a paw. “You’re it!”

They did have an idea as they remembered something but a game of tag to get there wouldn’t hurt any as they pranced around the stones, hoping the other would follow, even if he didn’t play the game itself.

code & art by claerie

At the mention of a gift, Brann could see the wheels beginning to turn in the eyes of the other. He chuckled softly but did not speak. It would not do to tell someone what they could and couldn’t bring as a gift to the Fae — the Fae would let them know whether they liked the gift or not, and more often than not, Brann was sure that the Fae knew if someone was thinking of getting them a gift. They had ways of making someone know even before presenting the gift whether it was good or not. Although he had never heard such a thing in the old tales, he was sure that they had their ways. At least, that was how things had always worked for him.

“I wanted to be a valiant knight or paladin so much as a tyke, so I joined the army when I was a yearling. It wasn’t everything I had hoped it to be, realizing it held none of my values at all. They also killed Pops for no reason besides him being a Highlander, it seems like,” the other said, tears touching their eyes. A sad smile touched Brann’s lips for a moment.

“That has always been my experience with the Imperial Army,” he said quietly. “They do not respect the Highlander values, and they seem to have a distaste for all of us, regardless of whether we have wronged them or not. I’m sorry that they took your father from you.” He watched as the other pawed the tears in their eyes away, trying to regain what composure they had lost. Brann wondered, briefly, what sadness the other had endured in life, how the Political figureheads in life in Rionnach had taken from them — he was sure they were much like any other Highlander in that regard. Much loss, and little help from the wolves that promised a good life to them.

“I deserted my post a long time ago and now I seem to be the army punching bag but I don’t see anyone as all bad besides maybe the King. There’s good in everyone, just as there’s bad in everyone too,” Cordie said. They spoke with much wisdom in that moment, enough to make Brann glance away.

“I know. It just feels like the Army has those that have more bad in them than good. The way they treat us, it’s… not right.” Brann said, his words sounding a little raw. He shook his head slightly, swallowing the strangeness in his voice.

“The pleasure is all mine, Brann of the MacCroin Clan!” Cordie giggled. “Well… If it was a less cold season, Cordie would take you to see the butterflies, nature’s pixies! Buuuuut since it’s so chilly willy…” Brann watched as they sauntered closer, closer, closer until surprise flashed across Brann’s face at the smack to his rump.

“You’re it!” The other began prancing away. Brann stood there for a moment, deciding what it was that he was going to do. He slowly shrugged to himself, beginning to trot after the other. A little game wouldn’t hurt anyone, not really. Besides, how long had it been since he’d actually played?


@Cordelia

table code © ashon

How I drifted farther away from the coast

“It’s okay, it happened a long time ago. Well it’s not okay but you don’t need to cheer me up! Thank you though!” they chirped eagerly, tail swaying just happy they cared at all. It wasn’t every day they ran into a wolf that thought it was worth the time and would just glance over the comment on the rare occasions they brought it up. It wasn’t like they had this kind of conversation daily, normally hushed before anything could blurt out without thinking if they got too excited. There was no one to do that to them here, there hadn’t been for a couple seasons but they managed, they always did. They did ponder the things before that, not really agreeing with everything that was said but there was no point in arguing it. Without any reason to make him believe differently and even less likely for them to change their own mind, it would just come to a brick wall. It was pointless. They could see that.

Stubborn is as stubborn does, they had learned that much in life even if they weren’t that bright.

“No more army talk! That’s the first step to recovery from a rotten brain, we gotta kiss it better and bring a smile instead of a sour note to that face!” they mused, calling over their shoulder, stopping only for a second to make sure he was following once away from the ring of stones. “I know you got a little more wiggle in that booty, you gotta let loose!” they advised, going back to running ahead, expecting to not be left in the dust from that tiny bit of compliance already shown.

So long as Brann would continue to follow, they would maze around toward the edge of the territory touched by the fae, tail swaying as happy as a clam that they weren’t alone right now. Suddenly a splash would sound loudly from their slightly above average body plunging into a warm pool, bubbles popping from the air pockets foaming from their fur. It would only take a little while longer before they’d come right back up to the surface laughing carefree, looking up from the snowy stones above, waiting for Brann to come join and relax their pretty heads.

A spa day for the ages, they would make his day the best day ever!

-fade exit-

code & art by claerie

“It’s okay, it happened a long time ago. Well it’s not okay, but you don’t need to cheer me up! Thank you thought!” Cordie said, their voice chipper. Brann offered a small smile, and a dip of his head, an apologetic thing that said that the conversation there would be left well enough alone. He understood not wanting the perceived pity of others on certain matters, although, wasn’t it just polite at this point to be apologetic for something? The intricacies of socialization, after all. “No more army talk! That’s the first step to recovery from a rotten brain, we gotta kiss it better and bring a smile instead of a sour note to that face!” The other seemed chipper as ever. Brann, while not one usually to sit in brew on the sourness of life, was more often to be one to think of how things could have been done differently – to second guess their own actions, more than anything. Brann followed the other, unable to help the small smile that threatened to touch his charcoal lips.

“I know you got a little more wiggle in that booty, you gotta let loose!” The other said, running ahead of him once more. Brann chuckled a little, shaking his head.

“Alright, alright,” he mused, picking up his pace a little to chase after the other. He began to run a little more, still not quite full tilt though, but easing into the game nonetheless. They soon found their way to water, and with that, Cordie plunged in, giving a loud splash. They surfaced a moment later, giggling like a child. Brann paused at the edge, looking into the water for a moment or two.

He wasn’t a super strong swimmer, but the water didn’t look too deep. He sucked in a breath and launched himself. He landed in the water with a splash of his own, his eyes closed until he came to a stop, paws touching the bottom. He opened his eyes, looking up. The world was blurry, but still clear enough to see. Still holding his breath, he pushed off the bottom, swimming to the surface and breaching it. He sucked in a breath, shaking his head to clear his ears of water.

Perhaps… this was fun. Perhaps, it was something needed.

[ fin ]


@Cordelia

table code © ashon