The eagles are screeching in alarm; one he remembers well, for it was the same screech that sounded as he earned his name. It can only mean one thing. Kin approach. One or many, he does not know. Any kin other than him alarm the eagles. He has befriended them, earned their trust, and he follows the siren call to confront the intruder. There will be little, if any, warning if it threatens his eagles. A firm nod of his head and he sets off.
It does not take him long to arrive at the loudest screech. This nest is in a tall safe tree. No kin will be snatching eggs from it. But there are nests lower the ground, nestled into crevices like the mountainsides that is his mother's homeland, that are at risk. He takes a deep breath.
"You are trespassing. Show yourself," he demands. He hopes they will. The eagles have few qualms, doubtful they have any, about attacking when threatened. And now, they feel a threat. Intention or not.
[imgright]https://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/imag ... muffin.gif[/imgright] She had just gotten lose from the infernal branch that entangled her hair again, when she heard the voice. It made her jump a bit, hearing something over the screech of so many eagles. She knew she was somewhere she shouldn't be. She didn't mean to be, and when she realized she tried to back-track, but had gotten stuck. She hoped they would understand, that they wouldn't hurt her for merely wandering.
She slowly shuffled out from around the tree that hid her from her accuser's view. When her eyes saw him, a totoma, she started a bit. She hadn't seen one before, only heard the stories. Her eyes were wide with curiousity as she looked over him, even daring to move a bit closer.
He was not expecting a doe. Not a mere slip of a thing -- by looks, she would barely topple a sleek acha -- with miles of hair to tangle and snag and... No, he was not expecting a doe. He had thought it would be a buck. The rigid stance and harsh glower of his eyes lessened. Whatever the chance that this doe would be a threat is, it is a small one. Tiny, like her.
"You..." his voice is low and deep, trailing off as he regards her. "Forgive me if I startled you. The eagles here have many enemies. One cannot be too cautious, for their sake," he amended after a moment of thought. It is the most he has said in a very long time and he feels out of his element. Not that he shows it.
He had a pleasant voice, when he wasn't threatening, and her ears twitched at hearing it. She let her gaze wander up into the trees, searching in vain for the calming birds, before she looked at him, at his eyes, giving a gentle smile as she stared.
She moved ever forward, until she was what others would consider uncomfortably close. She was curious, however, of the stout kin, and she wanted to know more. Her nose met his back scale. She blinked as she found it felt the same as her own. Her examination of him then ventured to his horns. She was fascinated as she followed them around. How could horns do that?
Uncomfortably close is a mild way to put it to his instincts. However his heritage -- totoma are not the type to shy or back away -- and blood refuse to allow it. Still he finds himself startled by the open gaze examining him. And yet the quiet, the lack of words, is comforting. A strange combination.
He clears his throat, thinks to ask her if she has received a name and then stops. Even with two kimeti siblings he often forgets that they dreams their names. It will always be strange to him. "What is your name?" he asks instead.
Her curiosity satisfied, she took steps back, giving ample space between them. She thought for a moment, on telling him her name. How could she do so? She only hoped he'd be clever enough to figure without her voice. She opened her mouth as if to speak, to give him the answer, then she shook her head and closed her mouth once more. She watched him, her eyes alight with expectation. Her tail flicked back and forth as she waited to see if he was at all clever.
The space is a relief, fresh air invading his nostrils. With the unfamiliarity of other kin come a hint of claustrophobia, he thinks. An oppressive feeling he never felt among family but that is a title he cannot grant this doe. He lets out a calming breath and watches her movements carefully with red eyes.
The soundless opening of her mouth, the shake of her head, could be interpreted in many ways. Perhaps she is mute, or voiceless. The fur below his bone planted head wrinkles ever so slightly. He decides to put word to each action and hope it is that simple. "Speak Not?"
She bounced on her hooves with the energy of a giddy filly, the joy of his guess obvious in the features of her smile. She rewarded his guess in the only way she knew how; she gave him a simple kiss to his forehead, or at least to the plate upon his head.
Her ears twitched a bit as she noticed absent sound. She tilted her head back, neck craning, to find the eagles that had made their presence so vehemently known just a short while earlier
The giddiness was a stark contrast to the shy, reserved quality that had so far been present. And though he found the kiss unnecessary he would have been hard pressed to admit it didn't make a warmth flare into his cheeks and chest. A smile quirked at his mouth, as his lips opened to speak. However her attention to the trees stopped his voice.
"They believe in me to deal with intruders," he explained of the quiet. And then, "Would you like to learn of them?"
She'd always been so calm and collected, it was so strange that she'd acted as she had, and she mentally scolded herself for it. A shiver ran down her back, her own way of shaking it off. Her eyes scanned the treetops a few moments more after his question, before sighing, the only real sound she ever makes, and lowering her head once more. She nodded slowly, though she was vastly curious about the animals.
He turned, then, gestured with his head that she should follow. "This is not their original habitat," he began when she was beside him, "they hail from the homeland of my mother." His eyes glanced upward as a whistling screech drifted down into his ears. "A mother returning to take over the task of keeping the eggs warm; the pair of them take turns in caring for their young," he explained. He thought of his own friends, then, and thought perhaps if something crossed his path he would take them a snack. He wouldn't let Speak Not close to them but he might let her see them.
She did as bid, following close enough for her hair to brush up against his flanks. She listened intently to him, all the while listening to all that surrounded her, ears twitching at the almost overwhelming quality of it. She ducked her head at the scream of the female eagle, but relaxed at his explanation, fascinated with learning so much about an animal she'd just learned existed. She stepped closer, as close as the terrain would permit anyway, wanting to hear him over the small din of the surrounding environment.
There was much about eagles to share; in his time he had learned and observed more than he thought other kin would ever ask. He did not want to inundate her with his knowledge -- the eagles were sacred to him and their secrets were his to keep -- nor did he wish to keep her voiceless should she ever wish to pass on his words.
After a brief walk, he stopped and nudged her cheek with his nose, ever so gently, "Look." Ahead was a stream and eagles drove, reaching into the frothing waves to snatch fish. "They are very skilled hunters." It was easy to tell how much pride he had in these creatures.
She soaked up his knowledge like a sponge, her curious eyes seeming to never stop pleading for more. Her ears continued to twitch every time he spoke, the sound seemingly as pleasant to her as learning was.
The wonder was clear on her face as she watched the majestic creatures in flight, and she unconsciously started dancing, shifting her weight from hoof to hoof. Her light, sparkling eyes briefly turned to him before going back to watch the eagles.
His eyes had shifted to take her in and found her swaying in a rhythm all her own. It reminded him of owlcats, hungry for a meal, touching the water's surface with their paw where the current ran weak. Over and over; shift and shift. In his head, everything ran to the beat of an eagle's wings.
"Do you fish?" he questioned, letting his neck twist so that he could see her. There were other game options, of course, if she would dine to let him hunt. It was not necessary, the eagles truly did well enough on their own. It was simply one way of showing them that he was an ally.
Her legs were growing tired, from the walking and from the tension she held in her legs watching the eagles and shifting. She slowly folded down, tucking her legs neatly underneath herself, her hair fanning behind her like a blanket. At his question, she gave him a quizzical look. It wasn't that she didn't know what fish were, it's just she never knew kin could eat them, or how one went about catching one.
She looked back and forth between the stream and him, the quizzical look never leaving her face.
He took that as a no, as well as a sign of tiredness. He would let her rest and fetch her something to eat. A slight pause, "Do you eat meat?"There were kin that chose not to, or did not like the taste, and he did not wish to offend her. If she did eat meat, he would fetch her a fish or rabbit; if not, he may have to do a mite of hunting. A bush of berries was not terribly far but most of the sought after edible plants were not in this specific area. And by the look of it, she would prefer not going on a trek.
She'd never really thought about it. She hadn't had meat before, not from lack of wanting to but more out of not ever making or having the opportunity. It didn't mean she wouldn't be open to, if the opportunity presented itself. She let her shoulders rise, and shook her head, not in a negative way, just shook it.
She watched him, her stare soft, but intent. She looked over the hard plates she found so fascinating. She looked over his short, but sturdy legs, covered in soft hair that also grew excessively from his chest. Her eyes followed his thick, curving horns, so different from her own. He was quite pleasant to look at, and she continued to do just that.
With that determined, Eagles-Landing let her know he would return and he moved off. He decided that fish would be the best start and he moved towards the river, staying within the doe's line of sight. He moved into the water and it did not take him long to catch a slew of nice sized fish -- those first few he threw straight back into the water, letting the eagles snatch up the easy prey -- keeping only four. Fish caught, he wandered to a bush filled with red berries and broke a branch off.
Food in tow, he wandered back to the pale doe and spread out the food before her. Hopefully if she did not prefer the fish, the berries were enough.
She watched him intently, having been so fascinated by him all morning long. She watched his quick movements, his patience, and his generosity for the birds under his vigilant care. She was grateful for him, his company and his conversation, and wondered how long she would continue to enjoy him, but did not dwell on such thinking. Out of habit she look towards him for permission to share in his findings, but blinked with remembrance that he'd caught this meal for them to share.
She dipped her head down and took her first taste of fish, chewing slowly with a thoughtful, strange expression on her face. It wasn't unpleasant, she came to find, though she was very unused to the texture. She ate, though, in contemplative silence, as she usually spent most of her days, watching him all the while. Perhaps one day she would mimic him, catching a fish on her own, as a gift for him or his birds, but pride got the better of her at the moment, and she did not wish to embarrass herself in front of him.
Fish could be an acquired taste and he did not miss the odd contortion of her features as she tried it. "You do not have to eat it if it is not to your liking," he offered as a reprieve. It reminded him of a practically stubborn eagle that would not touch fish -- a very strange thing to be sure -- but would indulge in rabbit or squirrel or any other meat.
He waited, allowed her with the utmost patience to finish the meal he had brought her. And it was only when she was finished that he chose to speak again. "Would you prefer to rest or see the eagles?" he asked. He did not want to rush her.
