Legendfalls 9 : The Start of New Legends
Mar. 14th, 2011 08:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
janestarzDramatis Personae
TrueStrike - a Wildling hunter, played by me
Adriel Strongwind - an Elf druid, played by NoKey
Tamarr Strongwind - an Elf mage, played by JW
Maedha - an Elf bard, played by Nathreee
Gwenyth - an Elf dreamwalker, played by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wannabe_bitch
Regina - a human fighter, played by Monique
Note: for reading ease, the point of view is in italics, where the memories of the event are in regular script, for more easily distinguishing between the different times.
Legendfalls 9: The Start of New Legends
With a sigh, Truestrike walked the path the deer had made through the forest. She passed close by the territory of the Wildlings, but didn’t enter it. Her mind wandered.
“Task for you.” Lifelight had said.
Duskweaver had taken over the conversation effortlessly, as she was wont to do. “Humani want wage war against Wildlings. Need to know why.”
“You know Humani from Before.” Lifelight had said.
“You go see why they want war.” Duskweaver had said.
Truestrike had bit her lip, but then she had nodded curtly. “Yes.” she had said.
“Take hands.” Lifelight had said. “Close eyes.” Duskweaver continued then.
Truestrike had obeyed.
“Step forward.” they had said to her....
A startled bunny hopped away. Truestrike ignored it, she wasn’t hungry, but she watched the white tail flick between the brambles as the bunny disappeared into its warren there.
Her brothers from Before had flanked her, easily, that first night back with the humani. She still didn’t trust Adriel one bit, but Tamarr seemed to be overjoyed to see her. He had said their sister still lived. They had hugged.
Adriel was ... difficult.
She did not trust him, but he had not been sure he could trust her either. Her new appearance had startled him, and he had asked her, not quite as politely as he would have done Before, if he could cast a spell on her.
“Which spell?” she had asked.
“Detect undead.” he had replied.
“Hah!” she had laughed at him. “Why you think undead? Don’t trust instincts, eyes, nose?”
He had finally cast it anyway, behind her back, even though she had denied the request at first. So much for trust.
She had met another Wildling that night, a haven of familiarity in a sea of humani and confused thoughts, and they had laughed together at the stoopid humani. He had been healing her wounds with his herbs - oh so itchy herbs - after ghosts had attacked them.
Truestrike grimaced. Oh yes, Adriel had been so keen to figure things out. Bless the burial grounds to prevent the ghosts from coming back.
An old scent of Wildling lingered here near the borders of their territory. It was clearly a boundary she shouldn’t cross. She was nowhere near her clan’s own territory. She remembered the other inconvience that had caused.
That first night she had taken to a nearby tree to sleep high up in the branches. After the owl had gone to hunt, she had fallen asleep and the dreams had started.
She hadn’t had any bad dreams since Before. And these had been of the worst kind, one dream overflowing into the next, without a pause for breath. Again, she had dreamed of Adriel and how he had betrayed everything he had believed in. And again there had been the dreams of torture, of fire and drowning, of violence and death. When she had awoken the next morning, the dreams were a vivid memory of the torture she had lived through Before.
This had not been good for her mood.
Near to growling she had prowled the forest. She had followed a group of humani that had ventured into the wild, but she saw nothing wrong with their presence yet, and they didn’t understand her words, nor did she speak the garbled humani speech. She had skulked around the two lonesome humani who had chosen to pray near the site where a bird had been killed earlier that week, but their incense stung her nose and with a “honour spirits good” she had left them too.
Finally, she had returned to the village only to find that the humani were very busy with their own things, but with the scent of a fresh kill near palpable on the wind. She had told Tamarr to tell the humani to clean up their garbage or eat it, but he had not passed on her words and it took the stupid humani no less than an hour to find the corpse.
She had not gone near it, afraid to be associated with the kill. The beastkin abominations had no such qualms, and had baahed loudly. Truestrike had told Tamarr that she had warned him, but he was too busy trying to determine who had done the deed, and why, to take much notice of her.
She grimaced. Both her brothers were so busy with humani things. It was hard to understand. Truestrike tried to remember who had changed more, but couldn’t readily find an answer. She sighed, scanning the undergrowth. She sniffed the air for a moment as a flock of birds passed overhead. When they were gone, she continued her walk.
That afternoon, someone had run out of the forest. Her loping walk was distinctive, and Truestrike had gone over to see who this newcomer was. She had been most surprised to see it had been her Alpha, none other than Clearwater herself.
“Why you here?” Truestrike had asked, somewhat taken aback.
“Was sent.” Clearwater had grunted. She had blinked slowly, clearly unhappy with the situation. “Why you?”
“Lifelight. Duskweaver.” she had replied. Nothing more needed to be said. Clearwater had surveyed the village, and she had slowly walked into the boundaries of the humani settlement.
There she had seen Sol.
“Spoiled meat!” Clearwater had spat.
Truestrike had been surprised, it had made sense. Clearwater had thrown off her coat, and Sol had taken off his cloak as well, and they had circled each other. Humani had gathered to interrupt, so Truestrike had taken off her quiver and satchel, and had stood ready to tell the humani to not interfere, but it had not been necessary. In the end, Clearwater had wrestled Sol to the ground, had held him pinned there for a moment, and then she had stood and dusted off her hands.
When Tamarr and his mate Maedha had asked Truestrike what had been going on, she had told them, in short terms, what Sol was. “Exiled.” she had said. “Spoiled meat.” she had growled. “We do not speak with them, nor allow them in our territory.”
Perhaps they had not understood. But their conversation had been interrupted by the arrival of large, brutish abominations. They had chased the humani, and when the largest of them all had cornered Truestrike, she had not even defended herself like she had wanted. The brute had cornered her, but lost interest soon enough, and after what had seemed like ages, they had gone, fled into the night.
That evening, Clearwater had taught the dreamwalkers. Truestrike had joined them, because someone had mentioned the name Lorano. She had remembered that the man who had tortured her Before had called himself the brother of Lorano.
The humani had asked Clearwater many questions, and in between their humani translations Clearwater had turned to Truestrike and she had said that she’d brought her message home. “Sniffs said hi.” she had said, smiling at Truestrike’s elated smile. “He wanted to come.”
Truestrike had rolled her eyes, had said “Cubs!” with a sigh. Clearwater had done the same.
Truestrike smiled as she remembered the words of Clearwater. “Your father misses you.”
It had been kind of Clearwater to bring a message to her parents. Truestrike had not known herself where she would go, or where she would end up, just that the dream had told her to go somewhere -- and there she had met Duskweaver and Lifelight, who were known to be quite unpredictable. And that is how all this got started. Slowly, she shook her head. Such things they did...
After the lesson, Truestrike had spoken to Clearwater, she had intended to talk to the Alpha dreamwalker about what had happened Before. If Clearwater knew Lorano, she might also understand the nightmares.
Clearwater had spoken about the dream shield that had protected Truestrike, and she had instructed Gwenyth on how to make one, but Truestrike had wanted to know if Kernuas was known on this world too.
A shadow had loped from the undergrowth.
“Clearwater, watch behind you!” Truestrike had warned. But Clearwater had been too slow, and her Alpha was torn to pieces by the abomination.
Humani had gathered around, all clamouring to see what the ruckus was about, and they had all spoken in their garbled speech, none taking an interest in Truestrike who had held Clearwater’s hand, had cried silent tears. No herbs to heal her, nothing that could help.
A humani had asked her a question in his humani speech, laid his hands on the Wildling and bowed his head. In the end, Truestrike had told the humani to go away, get out of there, hissing at them in anger.
Only a few had remained. Adriel, Tamarr, Gwyneth. And even they had kept their distance when, with some difficulty, Truestrike had lifted the body of Clearwater. She had carried her to the closest fresh water, and had started on the burial rites. She had washed the blood and sand from the body, and then had laid it on the shore of the pond. She had raised her voice to the spirits, and spoken the words, and then she had done what was required.
Truestrike raised her right hand to wipe the tears from her face. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the tears that came unbidden. She know what had to be done, but it was hard. She didn’t know precisely how Wildlings would do these things if they were on a long hunt, far from home. She suspected no lone Wildling should have to carry the burden.
Truestrike paused for a moment, remembering. The brains for the teachers, the eyes to the dreamwalkers, the heart for the hunters. And a burden it was, if one who wasn’t a dreamwalker or a teacher should make sure the strength of the deceased should stay with the clan. What right did she, a hunter, have to the eyes?
But she had no means to take Clearwater back to the clan, she didn’t even know how far away they were, and so she had done the respectable thing and made sure the strength of Clearwater stayed with the clan.
“We raised you well.” Lifelight had said.
“Perhaps too well.” Duskweaver had said.
They had appeared in her dreams, despite Gwenyth trying to maintain a shield. They had seemed pleased and worried at the same time.
“Wish to show you dream of humani.” Lifelight had said.
“Ask sacrifice. Sacrifice of mind.” Duskweaver had said.
Truestrike had nodded. They had spread their hands to show her. One of the humani from the village, with his two goatling abominations, had advanced angrily on her.
Though he had spoken humani, Truestrike had understood it perfectly.
“Get out!” he had shouted. “We do not want your kind here!”
Truestrike had cowered, hissing. The abominations had tried to strike at her with their weapons. One of their hammers had found her arm. She had fallen.
“Take her, dump her inside the Wildling’s territory. Make sure she doesn’t return to the village!”
The dream had faded. She had turned to Duskweaver and Lifelight. “I understand.”
Oh, she understood alright. Despite her upbringing, despite being an adult Wildling, she now had to abandon everything she was taught and try to be more humani. To prevent a war between humani and Wildling, she was being sent to the den of the fox, to learn its intentions. Until that dream, she had not known exactly how far it would push her. How much of her upbringing she would have to forget again. How many insults she would have to swallow.
When Truestrike and Gwenyth had returned from the forest, Truestrike had sought out the humani who had picked so many herbs the previous day. It had galled her, but she had threatened the elf with death the day before. But then, her mission was more important, and the forest would recover, one day in the cycle.
The elf had not been very fluent in elfspeak, and she had struggled with the meaning of some words. Truestrike had bent over her and given her the herb. It was a havitomoss, of all things, but no doubt valuable for their alchemist.
“If need herbs, ask me. I pick, thank spirits.” Truestrike had tried a grin, no doubt menacing enough with her predator’s fangs. “I help.”
Help indeed. Truestrike scoffed, kicking a pinecone. It bounced over the fallen needles and ricocheted off a tree. It irked her that she would have to help the humani pick the forest bare of herbs in order to keep the peace and fulfill her mission.
Regina had been busy with a patch of earth, removing debris. She had started when Truestrike had asked her what she was doing. She had tried to explain with gestures: pulling on a branch, picking up dead leaves. Truestrike could not make heads or tails of it. Adriel had come to aid in translating. Aparantly, humani would be more willing to let the herbs grow if there was a tiny fence around it, than if it were to grow in the wild.
Truestrike had walked off, shaking her head at this strange humani custom.
Gwenyth spoke fluid humani and Truestrike had asked her if she could maybe teach her as well. She had tried out several loose humani words, but had got stuck in the word cucumumbumber at some point.
But then Regina had approached Truestrike, and she had asked if she could learn Wildling.
The teacher gets the brain. Did that mean she was now a teacher too?
Truestrike had taken the time for the lesson, but Regina had also been otherwise engaged. She tried to devote time for the lesson, with Gwyneth helping as interpreter, but humani affairs had interfered. When finally the humani came to sit with Truestrike, she had been attentive though.
“Wildling in clan, each know what task they have. The hunter, hunts. The teachers, teach. The cubs, learn. If you are hunter, you know to get up before dawn to go hunt with other hunters.” Truestrike had said. “Therefor, unnecessary to tell other Wildling ‘You must rise early to join the hunt’ because hunter will know.”
Truestrike waited patiently until Gwyneth had translated her words, and then continued. “Each Wildling knows how to take care of self. When hungry, eat. When thirsty, drink. Is unnecessary, maybe even impolite to ask ‘are you hungry, are you thirsty?’ Wildling never ask such questions, because they know the other will eat when hungry.”
Regina had interrupted the lesson to exclaim something, but Gwenyth had not translated and Truestrike had held up a hand. “You ask lesson. I teach.”
Regina had looked abashed, but listened. Truestrike had continued. “Because Wildling know what needs doing, talk unnecessary. Talk longspeak very unnecessary. For lesson, I need talk longspeak, talk elvish. Wildling is like elvish, but much shorter. Example. When in humani, say ‘I came from the forest, passed the tents and the blacksmith. I opened door, and stepped inside, where I spoke to the innkeeper and ask for a drink.’ In Wildlingspeak, only say what is necessary: ‘Went inside. Had drink.’ “
Regina had seemed to grasp the concept, but the lesson had been interrupted again. They had walked into the forest, a group trying to find humani. Soon enough, Truestrike had smelled fresh blood, and they found humani. They had milled around for a while, and Gwenyth had translated. “A humani child was stolen. By humani.”
“Not Wildling.” Truestrike had said, triumphantly.
It had been a mess, with nobody knowing exactly what had been going on. People had run to and fro, shouting in humani. The girl had been screaming and pleading for her life.
Truestrike had not known wat was going on. But then, with humani...who knew anyway?
Truestrike returned, step by slow step, to the village. It smelled of rotting humani, who were buried in the ground, and of strange fires, a still pond and bricks and sweat. She climbed on top of one of the tables, and took out her knife and one of the sweetfruits. Carefully, she sliced the skin of the sweetfruit en peeled it off.
Maybe tomorrow it would make more sense to her.
TrueStrike - a Wildling hunter, played by me
Adriel Strongwind - an Elf druid, played by NoKey
Tamarr Strongwind - an Elf mage, played by JW
Maedha - an Elf bard, played by Nathreee
Gwenyth - an Elf dreamwalker, played by
wannabe_bitchRegina - a human fighter, played by Monique
Note: for reading ease, the point of view is in italics, where the memories of the event are in regular script, for more easily distinguishing between the different times.
Legendfalls 9: The Start of New Legends
With a sigh, Truestrike walked the path the deer had made through the forest. She passed close by the territory of the Wildlings, but didn’t enter it. Her mind wandered.
“Task for you.” Lifelight had said.
Duskweaver had taken over the conversation effortlessly, as she was wont to do. “Humani want wage war against Wildlings. Need to know why.”
“You know Humani from Before.” Lifelight had said.
“You go see why they want war.” Duskweaver had said.
Truestrike had bit her lip, but then she had nodded curtly. “Yes.” she had said.
“Take hands.” Lifelight had said. “Close eyes.” Duskweaver continued then.
Truestrike had obeyed.
“Step forward.” they had said to her....
A startled bunny hopped away. Truestrike ignored it, she wasn’t hungry, but she watched the white tail flick between the brambles as the bunny disappeared into its warren there.
Her brothers from Before had flanked her, easily, that first night back with the humani. She still didn’t trust Adriel one bit, but Tamarr seemed to be overjoyed to see her. He had said their sister still lived. They had hugged.
Adriel was ... difficult.
She did not trust him, but he had not been sure he could trust her either. Her new appearance had startled him, and he had asked her, not quite as politely as he would have done Before, if he could cast a spell on her.
“Which spell?” she had asked.
“Detect undead.” he had replied.
“Hah!” she had laughed at him. “Why you think undead? Don’t trust instincts, eyes, nose?”
He had finally cast it anyway, behind her back, even though she had denied the request at first. So much for trust.
She had met another Wildling that night, a haven of familiarity in a sea of humani and confused thoughts, and they had laughed together at the stoopid humani. He had been healing her wounds with his herbs - oh so itchy herbs - after ghosts had attacked them.
Truestrike grimaced. Oh yes, Adriel had been so keen to figure things out. Bless the burial grounds to prevent the ghosts from coming back.
An old scent of Wildling lingered here near the borders of their territory. It was clearly a boundary she shouldn’t cross. She was nowhere near her clan’s own territory. She remembered the other inconvience that had caused.
That first night she had taken to a nearby tree to sleep high up in the branches. After the owl had gone to hunt, she had fallen asleep and the dreams had started.
She hadn’t had any bad dreams since Before. And these had been of the worst kind, one dream overflowing into the next, without a pause for breath. Again, she had dreamed of Adriel and how he had betrayed everything he had believed in. And again there had been the dreams of torture, of fire and drowning, of violence and death. When she had awoken the next morning, the dreams were a vivid memory of the torture she had lived through Before.
This had not been good for her mood.
Near to growling she had prowled the forest. She had followed a group of humani that had ventured into the wild, but she saw nothing wrong with their presence yet, and they didn’t understand her words, nor did she speak the garbled humani speech. She had skulked around the two lonesome humani who had chosen to pray near the site where a bird had been killed earlier that week, but their incense stung her nose and with a “honour spirits good” she had left them too.
Finally, she had returned to the village only to find that the humani were very busy with their own things, but with the scent of a fresh kill near palpable on the wind. She had told Tamarr to tell the humani to clean up their garbage or eat it, but he had not passed on her words and it took the stupid humani no less than an hour to find the corpse.
She had not gone near it, afraid to be associated with the kill. The beastkin abominations had no such qualms, and had baahed loudly. Truestrike had told Tamarr that she had warned him, but he was too busy trying to determine who had done the deed, and why, to take much notice of her.
She grimaced. Both her brothers were so busy with humani things. It was hard to understand. Truestrike tried to remember who had changed more, but couldn’t readily find an answer. She sighed, scanning the undergrowth. She sniffed the air for a moment as a flock of birds passed overhead. When they were gone, she continued her walk.
That afternoon, someone had run out of the forest. Her loping walk was distinctive, and Truestrike had gone over to see who this newcomer was. She had been most surprised to see it had been her Alpha, none other than Clearwater herself.
“Why you here?” Truestrike had asked, somewhat taken aback.
“Was sent.” Clearwater had grunted. She had blinked slowly, clearly unhappy with the situation. “Why you?”
“Lifelight. Duskweaver.” she had replied. Nothing more needed to be said. Clearwater had surveyed the village, and she had slowly walked into the boundaries of the humani settlement.
There she had seen Sol.
“Spoiled meat!” Clearwater had spat.
Truestrike had been surprised, it had made sense. Clearwater had thrown off her coat, and Sol had taken off his cloak as well, and they had circled each other. Humani had gathered to interrupt, so Truestrike had taken off her quiver and satchel, and had stood ready to tell the humani to not interfere, but it had not been necessary. In the end, Clearwater had wrestled Sol to the ground, had held him pinned there for a moment, and then she had stood and dusted off her hands.
When Tamarr and his mate Maedha had asked Truestrike what had been going on, she had told them, in short terms, what Sol was. “Exiled.” she had said. “Spoiled meat.” she had growled. “We do not speak with them, nor allow them in our territory.”
Perhaps they had not understood. But their conversation had been interrupted by the arrival of large, brutish abominations. They had chased the humani, and when the largest of them all had cornered Truestrike, she had not even defended herself like she had wanted. The brute had cornered her, but lost interest soon enough, and after what had seemed like ages, they had gone, fled into the night.
That evening, Clearwater had taught the dreamwalkers. Truestrike had joined them, because someone had mentioned the name Lorano. She had remembered that the man who had tortured her Before had called himself the brother of Lorano.
The humani had asked Clearwater many questions, and in between their humani translations Clearwater had turned to Truestrike and she had said that she’d brought her message home. “Sniffs said hi.” she had said, smiling at Truestrike’s elated smile. “He wanted to come.”
Truestrike had rolled her eyes, had said “Cubs!” with a sigh. Clearwater had done the same.
Truestrike smiled as she remembered the words of Clearwater. “Your father misses you.”
It had been kind of Clearwater to bring a message to her parents. Truestrike had not known herself where she would go, or where she would end up, just that the dream had told her to go somewhere -- and there she had met Duskweaver and Lifelight, who were known to be quite unpredictable. And that is how all this got started. Slowly, she shook her head. Such things they did...
After the lesson, Truestrike had spoken to Clearwater, she had intended to talk to the Alpha dreamwalker about what had happened Before. If Clearwater knew Lorano, she might also understand the nightmares.
Clearwater had spoken about the dream shield that had protected Truestrike, and she had instructed Gwenyth on how to make one, but Truestrike had wanted to know if Kernuas was known on this world too.
A shadow had loped from the undergrowth.
“Clearwater, watch behind you!” Truestrike had warned. But Clearwater had been too slow, and her Alpha was torn to pieces by the abomination.
Humani had gathered around, all clamouring to see what the ruckus was about, and they had all spoken in their garbled speech, none taking an interest in Truestrike who had held Clearwater’s hand, had cried silent tears. No herbs to heal her, nothing that could help.
A humani had asked her a question in his humani speech, laid his hands on the Wildling and bowed his head. In the end, Truestrike had told the humani to go away, get out of there, hissing at them in anger.
Only a few had remained. Adriel, Tamarr, Gwyneth. And even they had kept their distance when, with some difficulty, Truestrike had lifted the body of Clearwater. She had carried her to the closest fresh water, and had started on the burial rites. She had washed the blood and sand from the body, and then had laid it on the shore of the pond. She had raised her voice to the spirits, and spoken the words, and then she had done what was required.
Truestrike raised her right hand to wipe the tears from her face. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the tears that came unbidden. She know what had to be done, but it was hard. She didn’t know precisely how Wildlings would do these things if they were on a long hunt, far from home. She suspected no lone Wildling should have to carry the burden.
Truestrike paused for a moment, remembering. The brains for the teachers, the eyes to the dreamwalkers, the heart for the hunters. And a burden it was, if one who wasn’t a dreamwalker or a teacher should make sure the strength of the deceased should stay with the clan. What right did she, a hunter, have to the eyes?
But she had no means to take Clearwater back to the clan, she didn’t even know how far away they were, and so she had done the respectable thing and made sure the strength of Clearwater stayed with the clan.
“We raised you well.” Lifelight had said.
“Perhaps too well.” Duskweaver had said.
They had appeared in her dreams, despite Gwenyth trying to maintain a shield. They had seemed pleased and worried at the same time.
“Wish to show you dream of humani.” Lifelight had said.
“Ask sacrifice. Sacrifice of mind.” Duskweaver had said.
Truestrike had nodded. They had spread their hands to show her. One of the humani from the village, with his two goatling abominations, had advanced angrily on her.
Though he had spoken humani, Truestrike had understood it perfectly.
“Get out!” he had shouted. “We do not want your kind here!”
Truestrike had cowered, hissing. The abominations had tried to strike at her with their weapons. One of their hammers had found her arm. She had fallen.
“Take her, dump her inside the Wildling’s territory. Make sure she doesn’t return to the village!”
The dream had faded. She had turned to Duskweaver and Lifelight. “I understand.”
Oh, she understood alright. Despite her upbringing, despite being an adult Wildling, she now had to abandon everything she was taught and try to be more humani. To prevent a war between humani and Wildling, she was being sent to the den of the fox, to learn its intentions. Until that dream, she had not known exactly how far it would push her. How much of her upbringing she would have to forget again. How many insults she would have to swallow.
When Truestrike and Gwenyth had returned from the forest, Truestrike had sought out the humani who had picked so many herbs the previous day. It had galled her, but she had threatened the elf with death the day before. But then, her mission was more important, and the forest would recover, one day in the cycle.
The elf had not been very fluent in elfspeak, and she had struggled with the meaning of some words. Truestrike had bent over her and given her the herb. It was a havitomoss, of all things, but no doubt valuable for their alchemist.
“If need herbs, ask me. I pick, thank spirits.” Truestrike had tried a grin, no doubt menacing enough with her predator’s fangs. “I help.”
Help indeed. Truestrike scoffed, kicking a pinecone. It bounced over the fallen needles and ricocheted off a tree. It irked her that she would have to help the humani pick the forest bare of herbs in order to keep the peace and fulfill her mission.
Regina had been busy with a patch of earth, removing debris. She had started when Truestrike had asked her what she was doing. She had tried to explain with gestures: pulling on a branch, picking up dead leaves. Truestrike could not make heads or tails of it. Adriel had come to aid in translating. Aparantly, humani would be more willing to let the herbs grow if there was a tiny fence around it, than if it were to grow in the wild.
Truestrike had walked off, shaking her head at this strange humani custom.
Gwenyth spoke fluid humani and Truestrike had asked her if she could maybe teach her as well. She had tried out several loose humani words, but had got stuck in the word cucumumbumber at some point.
But then Regina had approached Truestrike, and she had asked if she could learn Wildling.
The teacher gets the brain. Did that mean she was now a teacher too?
Truestrike had taken the time for the lesson, but Regina had also been otherwise engaged. She tried to devote time for the lesson, with Gwyneth helping as interpreter, but humani affairs had interfered. When finally the humani came to sit with Truestrike, she had been attentive though.
“Wildling in clan, each know what task they have. The hunter, hunts. The teachers, teach. The cubs, learn. If you are hunter, you know to get up before dawn to go hunt with other hunters.” Truestrike had said. “Therefor, unnecessary to tell other Wildling ‘You must rise early to join the hunt’ because hunter will know.”
Truestrike waited patiently until Gwyneth had translated her words, and then continued. “Each Wildling knows how to take care of self. When hungry, eat. When thirsty, drink. Is unnecessary, maybe even impolite to ask ‘are you hungry, are you thirsty?’ Wildling never ask such questions, because they know the other will eat when hungry.”
Regina had interrupted the lesson to exclaim something, but Gwenyth had not translated and Truestrike had held up a hand. “You ask lesson. I teach.”
Regina had looked abashed, but listened. Truestrike had continued. “Because Wildling know what needs doing, talk unnecessary. Talk longspeak very unnecessary. For lesson, I need talk longspeak, talk elvish. Wildling is like elvish, but much shorter. Example. When in humani, say ‘I came from the forest, passed the tents and the blacksmith. I opened door, and stepped inside, where I spoke to the innkeeper and ask for a drink.’ In Wildlingspeak, only say what is necessary: ‘Went inside. Had drink.’ “
Regina had seemed to grasp the concept, but the lesson had been interrupted again. They had walked into the forest, a group trying to find humani. Soon enough, Truestrike had smelled fresh blood, and they found humani. They had milled around for a while, and Gwenyth had translated. “A humani child was stolen. By humani.”
“Not Wildling.” Truestrike had said, triumphantly.
It had been a mess, with nobody knowing exactly what had been going on. People had run to and fro, shouting in humani. The girl had been screaming and pleading for her life.
Truestrike had not known wat was going on. But then, with humani...who knew anyway?
Truestrike returned, step by slow step, to the village. It smelled of rotting humani, who were buried in the ground, and of strange fires, a still pond and bricks and sweat. She climbed on top of one of the tables, and took out her knife and one of the sweetfruits. Carefully, she sliced the skin of the sweetfruit en peeled it off.
Maybe tomorrow it would make more sense to her.
