[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... n_ruri.gif[/imgleft] Despite just having had his fortune read and the seer in question not stopping him from wandering further into her grove, Once Forgotten had the distinct feeling he wasn’t meant to be here. He didn’t really want to touch anything, especially not after accidentally brushing his flank against an odd hanging twig bundle that had left his side strangely numb for far too long.

But everything was fascinating to look at and the wandering about gave him time to ruminate over the fortune he had received, which, now that he thought about it, hadn’t really contained any surprises. If anything it had been full of affirmations of things he should strive towards and the understanding that if he wanted aspects of his life to change, he would have to bring it about.

Forgotten, quite pleased to have that settled, shelved his fortune and smiled broadly in the direction of the pale of old Kimeti he was currently sharing the grove with.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He asked her, as if they were at a pleasant festival instead of some vaguely sinister dream grove. It was also spoken slightly louder than normal, just in case the older doe’s ears weren’t up to scratch.

The old doe, who was glaring with equal parts judgement and suspicion at the fortune teller's accoutements, turned her single sour eye to the interrupting kiokote.

"Absolutely not," she spat. "Look at all these cheap props. Witches these days! And there's no need to yell, plains-dweller, my hearing hasn't gone yet."

“My apologies, auntie,” Forgotten placated. Although it had been a long time since he had come from the plains, the habit of calling any older female in the herd aunt was still ingrained.

The Kiokote surveyed the so called ‘cheap props’ but they all seemed real enough to him. His left front hoof was still tingling and he was fairly sure that snake skin in the corner was looking at him. “Oh, I don’t know about that - look, this one seems interesting!”

The crystal in question seemed quite fancy and as he approached his ears pricked, detecting a low melody.

“Have you experience in the uh... witch arts? And do crystals usually... sing?”

Maple puckered and squinted at being called Auntie. What was it with kiokote and being so utterly impertinent? First Melt, and now this weirdo. Whatever, she didn't feel like fighting about that right now.

"Experience, yes; singing, no," she answered, taking a step forward. "But then, this is a dream, so many things behave differently than they do in the waking world. There is no 'usually' for dreams," she concluded with an air of sagacity, staring down her muzzle at the curiously vibrating crystal.

“Of course!” He exclaimed in an ‘aha!’ way, completely satisfied with that explanation. It was easy to forget he was in a dream and the reminder brought back the strangeness of the grove and how densely the mist seemed to weave through the branches around them.

Once Forgotten stepped even closer to the pleasantly singing crystal and lowered his head to listen. There seemed to be words there, like little puzzles that slowly fit together in his mind.

“Maple Milk,” he repeated, not knowing what it meant.

She frowned. "I don't remember telling you my name."

“You didn’t!”

He stomped a hoof in excitement.

“And my name is Once Forgotten." It was only fair to share now that her name had been revealed. 

The crystal was still singing and more words wormed their way into his ear, slowly forming into something that he understood. Should he keep listening? He couldn't help his curiosity and so closed his eyes to focus.

Her frown grew more pronounced. "That's nice, but how did you know my name? Did someone else here tell you? Maybe you've heard of me by reputation? What is it?" She stomped her own front hoof and snarled. "Stop playing at listening to that stupid rock and tell me!"

It didn’t occur to him that she couldn’t hear the same song, or maybe he was just too caught up in it to think of anything else.

A sad tale was being told, a secret whispered to him of thoughts kept unspoken and regrets grown bitter.

And he looked at Maple Milk with this new knowledge fresh and bright and raw, bringing unshed tears to his eyes, and said, “I promise you won’t die alone. I can help you find your children. It’s not too late.”

Maple Milk's blood ran cold, and the bottom dropped out of her stomach. Overwhelmed with a sudden, powerful mix of emotions - surprise, anger, indignation, fear - she froze stock-still, trembling, and began to hyperventilate.

"H-how... dare you," she hissed. She said it like she had more to say, but as much as she worked her mouth, no more words would come.

He instantly realized he’d made a mistake.

Her reaction brought him back to reality in an instance, his head jerking up, shaking away the last of the song. It hadn’t just been cheap prop. This magic was real.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, desperately - and that might have been enough if he hadn’t immediately followed it up with, “please! There’s so much more your life has to offer! I can help!”

"SHUT! UP!" she shrieked, the fur all down her back bristling with rage. "I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP! I DON'T NEED ANYONE'S HELP!"

She mocked Once Forgotten by leaning down and tilting an ear to the crystal. Her ear quivered, and in a childish fit of pique, she weaponized the information she gained immediately. With her teeth bared, she snarled, "Ohhh, look, I've got a secret from the stupid singing crystal to tell you, too! It tells me you're a miserable, idiot, orphan, and you'll never ever find your father! Your entire life's been wasted looking for him!"