Kazgut I will come to be — I will submerge myself in the body of the earth, sink my teeth into its flesh; and rise in my own skin. Tales had been heard of the region almost as soon as they had settled in Perth. The lowlands were said to be a fertile, verdant place. (When the Highlanders spoke to Vyette of the lowlands, this is what they had to say.) Perhaps it was just idle chat to the new apothecary, but Kazgut did not think so. They did not seem a folk prone to that sort of embellishment (although they more than made up for it with their other tales). Regardless, the black shuck had travelled to Maiden's Braid to fulfil specific purpose - alchemical ingredients for his love. The journey had been short. Even so, Kazgut felt the familiar stirrings of homesickness. He did not take joy in being away. This serves purpose, he thought to himself bluntly, attempting to realign mind to body. The wraith had to remain at the cottage, to attend to the folk that came with their ailments. Summer had brought new sickness - and new cure. She had kissed him goodbye in the garden and he had disappeared into the wood. It was not the first time he had been away, but he always hoped it was the last. Now, with basket held simply between jaws, he navigated the wetlands. From this vantage, he had already beheld the waterfall. Now he had taken to crossing and recrossing the creeks, foraging for mushrooms and mosses. Anything that the grim did not recognize was taken. He was careful in this task, taking no more than needed - severing plant cleanly should Vyette which to try to propagate anything in a more northern climate. @Alexei Notes: Kazgut is wandering about with a basket picking up random plants. Emphasis. Thinking. "Talking." |
Kazgut I will come to be — I will submerge myself in the body of the earth, sink my teeth into its flesh; and rise in my own skin. Voice. Caught off guard, Kazgut's head snapped up. Pale eyes focused intently, narrowing onto the source of the voice. Finding ... a stranger. The unfamiliar wolf had the higher ground. Muscles rippled beneath coat, tensing in preparation of an attack but ... nothing. It was as though the other was frozen in place. A word had been spoken, but already he could not recall it. Looking up at the red wolf upon the rocks - haloed gloriously by the sun - the black shuck felt tension leave him. Even at a distance he could see a tremor of some sort of emotion go through the stranger. Deliberately, eyes of moonstone never leaving the red one, Kazgut sat down the foraging basket. Shifting stance, he positioned himself so that the sun would no longer obscure the other wolf. Amethyst eyes, wide, beheld him in return. Widened with surprise (swimming with emotion)! The last of the adrenaline faded. Kazgut was no empath - but the air smelled of a miasma of confliction; undertones of the sea (bite of salt) and others fighting for dominance. Many places, many things. Kazgut found no words. Instead, he took a step forward; closer toward the stranger. Whether in hoping to give the red wolf a better look or to determine for himself the nature of the encounter, he did not know. The backdrop was one of sublime exaltation. The water flowed fast and clear - the birds chattering peacefully away. And they; locked. Own initial surprise faded into concern. The stranger looked as though he had seen a ghost. @Alexei |
Kazgut I will come to be — I will submerge myself in the body of the earth, sink my teeth into its flesh; and rise in my own skin. Time did a slow dance about the strangers. To the black shuck what had started as a charged crescendo (toward action!) had abruptly paused. The feeling left him without breath in his lungs, without wind in his sails, and without direction. Kazgut had never been particularly gifted in the art of meeting, in knowing others, and in being in their company - especially without knowing them at length (and great distance) first. He could not make sense of this exchange; the frozen expressions upon the red stranger’s face, nor the emotions - unknowable - that rolled off of him. Head raised slightly as the red one started, tried, stuttered into speech.And then, finally … apology? I am … sorry … you … A pause followed that had the grim straining just a touch closer. Needing, perhaps, to understand better this odd exchange. I'm sorry for staring.. You just... You look like someone... from my past. Explanation given - but Kazugt felt no relief from it. For the red one looked away as the words themselves serrated the air like broken pieces thrown to the ground. Deeper emotions set within them but the black shuck found himself at a loss yet again. Kazgut knew that he was unremarkably in appearance; plain black without a marking of identification edgewise. Wolves often look alike. But it was not the case of mistaken identify that he found himself bothered by. It was the emotion. The mixing of feelings that shuddered in the space but were nameless. From the past, yes; but what sort of past? And so, he latched upon only the most recognizable; sadness. If only the healer was with him. (Although he did not know if this malady could be cured by his witch.) Turning away only briefly, Kazgut retrieved the basket. Clenched between teeth, he returned about-face to the stranger. Then, he took several steps closer, orienting himself carefully as to not catch the other off guard. The shuck moved carefully, with great deliberance. About three steps away, he stopped and (once again) sat the basket down. ”Flower?” The gravedigger asked the red man, hoping to brighten his mood. (The word itself a murmur beneath breath; low, rumbling, distant.) @Alexei |