[PRP] Seeking (A Dream of Rain/Ferns at Dusk)

[Prolixity]

A Dream of Rain picked his way through the shallows of a mid-sized stream, singing softly and absentmindedly as he went. He stepped carefully, watching the ground below his hooves. He had spent several hours being helpful, gathering and bringing grasses and reeds and flowers for someone's clutch, and now he was relieved to return to his own wanderings and his own business. The business in question, currently, was looking for shiny stones. He had a hollow tree picked out for a cache, and he needed stones to fill it with.

He spotted a likely candidate, smooth and round, and bent to pick it carefully out of the sand, holding it between his teeth and letting the water run over it for a few seconds to rinse it clean.

[subducting]

Ferns at Dusk flicked an ear irritably, casting a glance skywards at the warm sun, beating down through the leaves. It wasn't in his eyes, but it heated the air of the swamp, warming the already humid environment to something soupy and dense. The buck's annoyance grew as he picked up a soft, singsong voice. Only a seelie would be wandering around singing such a meaningless tune. They were such mossbrains, their heads filled all summer long with hazy ease and singing their pithy, vapid songs on into the night.

Ferns began to turn away when an idea began to take shape in the calculating buck's mind. Just because it was the warm season didn't mean the game stopped, after all. Perhaps there was something useful to be gained from the situation. He followed the noise to a creek and recognised a buck from the other half of the split tribe, retrieving stones from the river. Completely preposterous- though Ferns kept the thought to himself, making sure his expression was carefully polite as he dipped his head to the acha.

"Greetings," he offered, watching carefully for the buck's reaction. It would be a mistake to assume the seelie was as empty-headed as he appeared- as filled with honey and sunlight as they were, they were far from stupid. It was what made the dance of the tribe worthwhile.

[Prolixity]

A Dream of Rain startled and dropped his shiny stone. It wasn't as though he was in an unpopulated area, exactly, but he had lost himself in music and his search and the warmth of the day enough that being spoken to pulled him unexpectedly out of his own head and left him blinking owlishly in mild confusion. The song he was singing stopped, and he looked to the source of the words. It was a buck he didn't know, or who he knew only faintly, the other's colorful markings vaguely familiar. If he remembered right, this buck was part of the Winter Court. Rain wondered what the other buck wanted with him, but his greeting had been polite; Rain flicked his ears back forward and answered, "Greetings," only a little too late.

[subducting]

There was a muted plop as the stone the acha had so carefully selected rejoined the river, and Ferns instantly felt guilty. He winced, hopping into the stream, his sharp eyes having followed the trinket's trajectory. He bent down and retrieved what he hoped was the right stone and tossed it safely onto the bank, wrinkling his nose as cool water dripped down it. "My apologies," he said, dipping his head to the other buck, "I didn't mean to startle you." Great. He'd just put himself into the courtier's debt by losing him his stone. He hoped the one he'd tossed onto the bank was the right one, or he'd feel compelled to spend the rest of the afternoon searching the bed of the stream for it. He took a step back, realising he had put himself rather close to the other buck, still stood in the river.

[Prolixity]

Rain stepped out of the river as the other buck stepped back and bent his head to look at the stone that had been retrieved. It might have been the right one, or it might have been similar enough; either way, his ears came up in a relaxed, pleasant expression, and he said, "Thank you." He laughed a little, and offered, "I'm easily distracted. Not hard to startle me. No ill will." He looked the other male over, a quick flicker of a glance at his bright patterns. "What brings you here today?" he asked, a casual inquiry.

[subducting]

Ferns sighed in relief as the buck instantly mellowed out, glad that he wasn't deciding to take offence at his actions. He swished his tail, the end of it trailing languidly through the water and bowed his head gratefully before the other buck examined him curiously. "I was just passing through," he replied, dipping his head again, "Ferns at Dusk, at your service, if you require it." He rather felt he owed the acha after having made him drop his stone, and the buck really did seem quite pleasant. Trusting, too, although that could have been a façade. It was so hard to say in the tribe of the fae, and that was what made it fun.

[Prolixity]

Rain tilted his head thoughtfully to the side, considering Ferns's phrasing. "I do not require service," he mused; it was a release of obligation, an acknowledgement that he did not consider the other male as owing him a debt. An important thing to communicate. "But if you have nothing else you are attending to, I would enjoy company, perhaps conversation." It was an invitation, a request rather than a command. Ferns at Dusk could accept or decline as he wished with no particular consequence and without disruption of the balance.

[subducting]

Ferns eyed the buck interestedly, ruminating on his options. He could be done with it, but then, he really didn't have much else better worth doing anyway. At least this might yield some kind of information, and it did him well to be informed. Even if it was just on this individual. Ferns nodded, moments later realising he wasn't actually sure what he'd agreed to helping the buck do. "What... are you collecting stones for," he asked, glancing through the water to the stones under his hooves.

[Prolixity]

"I collect stones," Rain explained, his ears lifting happily. "I sort them by color and shape and shine, and place them with similar stones. I have caches in many places in our tribe lands, on the borders and within. I think they are good luck." He bent his head to touch his nose to the round, smooth stone that Ferns had startled him into dropping, then picked back out for him. "This one is for a new cache, beside the little waterfall. It will help me catch fish." Would it really? There was no telling, but he seemed sincere enough.

[subducting]

Ferns tilted his head curiously. It was superstitious, and eccentric, but oddly endearing. The frosty buck felt his heart thaw ever so slightly, warming to the acha as he watched how lovingly the other buck reached down and nose the stone. It was very sweet, even if it wasn’t realistic to assume a stone was going to improve one’s luck at fishing. But then again, could anyone really say? Stranger things had happened. He glanced around at the stones under his hooves, wondering if he could find another to contribute. “What about this one for your cache,” he suggested, pointing at a flat, slate grey rock sitting just above the waterline, “It’s flat and smooth, just like you want the waters to be when you’re hunting for fish.”

[Prolixity]

"Oh, that's an excellent thought!" Rain brightened, beaming at Ferns. "I'm going to go and put them both in the cache." He paused, looking back and forth from the round one to the flat one, gears clearly turning in his head as he contemplated how to bring both rocks at once. Then he tilted his head at Ferns, eyes bright. "I am going to go to the cache -- will you go with me and bring the stone you found?" he asked.