[ AW ] greyhound

The highland autumn was brief and grand. Red exploded across the moors and gold gleamed in the glens, and all the mountain lochs were deep silver blue as aching and endless as the night sky. But winter would pour down into the northlands fierce and ruthless soon, and he could feel it in the crisp wind already, and see it on the crinkled leaves, and feel it in the frosted soil that morning. His breath steamed before his face like the clouds over the sun. A yellow fog curled around his feet.

"Well, here we are," he said, shrugging toward the fey woods ahead. They were dark and the trees grew close together and intimate, wrapped in skirts of rose shrubs and brambles and vines. The woods smelled like loam and musky-sweet leaves. The shadows gave the impression he was being watched, and if he lingered long enough, he imagined he might hear sweet music to tempt him in.

Cethen shifted his weight. He opened his mouth to say something, squinted and tightened his jaw, but in the end, he only sighed and shook his head. "Find yir way from here alright?"

@Jupiter

There is something comforting about this place. Familiar, despite it being alien. Perhaps the sweet music Cethen is worried about is the very thing Jupiter hopes to hear. He steps forward, gingerly, the leaves below gently crunching beneath his feet as he inhales and the fact becomes clear--despite his newness to the area, the forest has already slathered him in it's signature scent. Moss and must and foliage, it clings to him even over the almost overpowering smell of the salted air from their previous excursion.

He cocks his head upwards, peering at the canopy and the way the light broke through in scattered shafts...and he seems content.
"Yes, yes," he agrees, giving a small nod as if to affirm his words,"A flappy....A book," he corrects himself before finishing the thought,"Is f-farther in. I prom-mised." That he did! And he is one who is willing to keep his promises."Book...book..book for Cethen.." he almost hums now, seemingly far more at ease as he makes his way farther into the trees, this time expecting Cethen to follow. There is a hint of confidence now, something that has bloomed within him where he finds himself more relaxed. He pauses, plucking a mushroom from a tree stump and turning to gingerly offer to Cethen,"Meat-shroom!" he chirps,"For tr-travel back to...Iv....erness." Aha, without a stutter this time! He seems proud of this development, as well. Still, it seems he has not been lying about his more intimate knowledge of earthly things. The various types of edible mushrooms and seeds and flowers and plants--the ones that you should not east. The ones that you eat For A Good Time, the ones you use on wounds.. He almost chatters along the way, eagerly spilling little tidbits of 'this one tastes likes rabbit and that one carries water and this one only grows on corpses' as they wind deeper and deeper into the woods.

Still, he trots almost gracefully into the trees, lacking the uncertainty and unsteadiness he seems to have outside of the forest. The white rabbit-- a fae sign?-- crosses their path as they move, and he chirps a happy "Oh, you!" at it before it vanishes back into the brush, and he turns in the opposite direction until they happen upon what would appear to be a large gathering of rocks. It is, in fact, a Cairn, and beneath it-- tucked within the rocks and the earth and beneath the branches of a well-stripped evergreen-- sits a book. It is old and tattered, dog-eared. The leather cover has been worn down and the once vivid red color has faded into a dull pinkish-grey. And yet, the pages are intact by some miracle. The ink has smeared and faded some, rendering some of its contents useless. But there it is--a real, true to life book.

"I p-put it here. B-because it...It flapped. And it got wet. T-to dry. It's yours now." he promises, lowering himself to wriggle the book free of its confines to offer it to him. "M-maybe...Maybe you can...come back? Later? I can..I can show you star things." No, wait. Cethen did not seem interested in those. He searched the ground for an answer, and as the sun sank lower and the fireflies began to grow more prominent, it seems that the answer comes to him.
"No! I..I will teach you g-gathering! From..trees. And earth. Presents, from nature. For you! To visit." He would, after all, be loathe to lose his only 'friend' so far. Well...besides the white rabbit, that is. Who is a terrible conversationalist.

It didn't surprise him Jupiter was drawn into the woods. Walking in as if he belonged there. Even Cethen could intuit that strange connection that linked the outlander to this place, though he was certain few outside the highlands would understand. He frowned, contentious, at his own thoughts.

He'd almost forgotten about the book.

Cethen shifted his weight, chary about going deeper into the forest. It was not his place, not his home. It belonged to more stately and primeval courts than those of the southland crown. But Jupiter had promised, and that promise had carried them both all the way here. So he nodded. He did not say 'lead the way,' because he felt there was no need to. The silence was reverence in the fae forest. So he followed wordlessly, dipping into a realm of blue shadows and ancient hazel and coniferous trees.

Jupiter appeared to have the time of his life showing him around. Showing him things the same way a child might show a guest all the beloved peculiarities and trinkets of a home. He found himself mildly charmed, though he remained somewhat aloof. The sign of the rabbit reminded him he was merely a visitor; that the life in the shadows was watching him.

Finally - finally - they came to the cairn. Jupiter fetched the book. Cethen stood idly, watching, acutely aware that the venture had taken most of the daylight hours (few as they were in this chilly season), and the shadows were stretching. Jupiter laid the book at his feet. Cethen's whole demeanor shifted from respectful wariness to a sudden and arrested interest; his yellow gaze poured over the soft faded rose of its leather cover and a soft exhale ghosted between his teeth.

Wisdom told him it was a bad idea to take this gift from the cairn and the woods, but he accepted the book into his possession anyway. He looked up, almost as if from a reverie, blinking at Jupiter as if only now remembering he was there. "Come back?" He repeated, thoughtful. "Aye, I might." He glanced into the dim woods, as if expecting sith faces to loom white in the gloam. "If Ahm welcome back, hat is." He looked mildly uncomfortable as if something else had just occurred to him. "Best ye don't give away too much of nature's presents, lad. The little people here might naw appreciate it. An if yi want to be careful, keep yir name close to yourself - don't give it away too freely in these woods."

He half-smirked, a vague light of daring in his fire-gold eyes. Of course, if Jupiter was as much a changeling as some might suppose, Cethen had already done just that.

He pauses, and thinks on his words for a long moment. "Well," he begins, struggling to find the right words,"...Sometimes things are m-meant to be given. Shared... Knowledge. Friends. Books! Mushrooms....S-shiny beetles... The starlight.. T-these are things that are...given to everybody. S-so...they should be shared." he explains. He's not certain its come off the right way, but the sentiment is there. "Give...as much as you take." Such was the way of the Fae, not that he knew that. To give as much as is taken, to return as much as is received. He assumes this is just polite. "And...you taught me things." New words, new phrases, about the area. Things that may seem small, but to him, they are vital bits of knowledge that he will hoard and hold in his little heart, and so he would repay the favor in kind. To teach what he could teach, to share what he could share. Small things though they may be, but they would eventually build up. "Father taught me...taught me to read the water. To...listen? To listen to the spirits. So...I can...teach you? Maybe." He squints almost comically, letting his nose wrinkle as he leans forward and examines his face with a scrutiny that seems reserved for one far more mature. The milky white of his unseeing eye almost ebbs and flows, pearlescent in the light as the acrid colors of the other bore past the Nice Man™'s face, perhaps into the world behind him. "If one has the gifts to do so," he seems to be mimicking someone now, and he waves his paw to mock it so, though he must be--according to his own words--quoting his father.
"You come back sometime." he finally decides, sitting back on his haunches and giving him an innocently pleasant smile. "I...will get you s-salt. And...black water."

@Cethen