Exalted - Woodland Calm

Woodland Calm
Kali
2011/10/17 19:12

Table of Contents
May 29 2011 	 # 

May 29 2011
Woodland Calm
 
With a start the doe’s head sprang up, eyes locked on the source of her fright.
 
The world stood still for less than a heartbeat, and then she gave a cry and leapt, her lithe form seeming to hang in the air before she was gone, swallowed up in the comforting embrace of the woodland gloom.
 
The clearing returned to peace, the evening light dappled across the forest floor.
 
A larger form emerged. A horse, black and sleek, walking with slow, deliberate grace. With a resigned sigh the rider muttered something to himself, even as he lowered the bow he’d been holding, relaxing the arrow in his grip. The horse lowered its head, sensing the passing of the moment and spying a succulent burst of grass cropped around a tree.
 
“Don’t eat it all - that’s probably the only meal I’ll be getting tonight.” The horse, focussed on its succulent morsel, ignored the comment, and its tone.
 
The remark reminded him of one of the lessons of Gregor, the grizzled sergeant from Brightwater, old friend of his Father and the man who’d taught him to hunt as a boy.
 
“Always respect your prey, for it will take all of your cunning and patience to defeat. If you cannot bring your best into the forest, better to learn to enjoy the taste of grass.”
 
Caelan chuckled softly. Gruff old bastard. He’d been right though... He’d needed some time alone, but thinking he might hunt in his current mood was folly.
 
What business did he have trying to fix this town? He thought back to his actions of the last day, of telling men older and wiser than he what they must do. Of threatening even… gods? Reminding himself of the scene earlier that day terrified him, the look it had given him. Not anger, but.. acceptance? Fear? And he knowing it as right. As due. It was not his place to meddle in such things. What had he been thinking?
 
But whilst his daring courage of the day had diminished, he still felt… what? A connection? Was that the right word? Not really, but how to describe something that felt so fundamental, so much a part of him now. He felt in touch with the world around him in a way he could no more comprehend that the deer understood how to run. It just, did. He just felt that he could wrap Creation in his embrace, feel it. And change it. The thought frightened him, even as he wondered at the limits of what they might achieve. Perhaps lacking only the imagination to dream and the will to execute would constain them… What madness were such thoughts and ambitions, even as they flooded unbidden to his mind.
 
Ariorn lifted her head from her snack, gave a low, impatient whinny and shook her soft mane. Had he spoken that aloud, dug his heels too tight in tension? Whichever, she was right, it did no good to brood. What would his Father say?
 
Probably something like “A hungry stomach cares little for the ancestry of the corn that feeds it”. The thought brought a crooked smile to his face. Yes, something unhelpful like that. Still, who else did these people have if not this unlikely band of friends?
 
And what to make of his friends. Olvir. Strong and faithful. And Song, all knowing and tranquil. What… were they now? Now a man, now an ape. Now a bird. Now a cat. Caelan shook his head slightly at the sheer wonder of it.
 
So what did that make him? He had no animal form to become, no creature to focus his talents within, no way to conceal what he was. He was just… him. And yet not. What was he then? Cursed? A demon with the skin of a man? He recalled the eyes of the villagers on that night, terrified. Horrified. Of him, a monster…!
 
Caelan had spent much time in the saddle, most of it on this animal. Even when apart he felt a connection. Like an invisible thread. Knowing he need only run it through his fingers, trace it back to find her, wherever she was. Since that night she’d saved him he’d vowed that they would never be parted as companions.
 
They knew each other so well that riding was no longer something he did, a man on a horse, but something they both gave their souls to in equal measure. Him, focussed on the approach, shifting his balance subtly and without thought, feeling the wind, closing the noose. Her, sensing their intent, seeing the way, adjusting her pace. Together they moved, a formation of thunderous and terrible grace, unified in unwavering purpose.
 
And so even as she took off now, Caelean leaned forward instinctively, even as his eyes widened. “What the…?”
 
Exploding from the tree, she leapt a large bush and flew into the gloom, from quiet contemplation to determined gallop, the peace of the clearing shattered in an instant.
 
Holding on Caelan glanced behind him, thinking of attack, of surprise. Head flicking this way and that, eyes moving, scanning even as the terrain shifted around them. Nothing. Leaning forward he shouted.
 
“Ariorn! “What is it…? What do you see?”
 
Ignoring him they approached a brook, the other side giving way to deeper forest. Too dense for their speed, certainly. Ignoring his cries she leapt, the hammering of her hooves silenced for the barest instant, the quiet bubble of the stream whispering its gentle secrets before they landed once more and plunged into the woods.
 
Now flicking, left, left, right. Huge trunks seeming to rush at them before flashing by to one side or the other, giant horrors intent on crushing this impudent mortal. He tried to call out again, as an overhanging branch threatened to break him in two as they rushed beneath, forcing him to throw himself forward and silence his terror.
 
Comprehension driven from his thoughts, Caelan hunkered down and tried to hold on in desperation, knowing he would surely die, as his lifelong companion threatened to throw him at any moment in her wild abandon.
 
Suddenly she reared. Holding high, her form terrible and dark and resolute, rear feet stamping, nostrils flaring. And now dropping back. Back. Down.
 
Sliding from the saddle Caelan crumpled to the forest floor, his legs giving way even as he threw his hands out. On hands and knees he put his head to the cool dry leaves, and felt the earth as he slowly clawed his fingers into the ground. Tears and terror had blinded him to his surroundings and he knew not where he was, or whether he was still truly alive. He would just... lie here.
 
A breeze swept through the upper branches of the trees, the leaves sounding like water rushing through a rocky stream, the only sound in this forgotten place.
 
A tongue, warm and soft, moved across his cheek. He didn’t move. A gentle push to his shoulder. His arms flailed out weakly and his fingers encountered the softness of a rounded nose. It moved forward again and nudged him. With a groan he sat up.
 
Ariorn had lain next to him, as calm as the great lake on a summer’s evening.
 
“What… What the… what got into you…?”
 
She looked back at him, eyes steady and gentle.
 
“Ariorn. You almost killed us.” He was shouting now, his voice shaky though growing more sure.
 
No response. The patient, concerned compassion of an arrow bird teaching its young to fly for the first time evident in her wide dark eyes.
 
“I nea…” Caelan stopped mid word, understanding dawning.
 
“Because of what… of what I.. said…?”
 
The creature moved its head forward and nuzzled against his chest. Recollection of his words returned. Realisation of his mood. Of where such thoughts may lead a man, when doubt and fear is more deadly a killer than steel through the gut.
 
“Ariorn. I… I’m not really a demon. I… know that. I guess I was being pretty sorry for myself. But you…”
 
He knew. They needed one another. More than friends, their fortunes intertwined. What would she be without him, or he without her. Diminished, lost. Just as he needed. Song. And Olvir, and they him. They had a responsibility to one another now. Whatever happened.
 
“I’m. Sorry.” A whisper so quiet the gentle breeze stole it from his lips, though not the intent, or the comprehension.
 
Lifting her head from his chest Ariorn nudged his cheek and again the tongue swiped across his brow. Then, shaking her mane the creature got to her. She whinnied gently and pawed at the earth with her back feet.
 
“I guess we should be getting back. It’s late.”
 
Climbing lightly back into the saddle still trembling slightly, Caelan considered the darkened shapes around them, the forest suddenly seeming unwelcoming of these excitable and uninvited visitors. He drew his cloak around him, protection from the chilling night air and.. anything else.
 
“I really have no idea…”
 
But the creature had already started moving, sweeping around and trotting gently yet with purpose through the dark.
 
Ariorn would get them home, he knew. She always did. Then they would face Creation one day at a time. All of them. Together.
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Kali
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