Morning Glide

A light rain and a grey sky, and clouds across the heavens as far as one can see. Yet all know that the great Flame soars just beyond those lurking cloudy silks, ready to emerge anew-- given the proper inspiration.

It is the rare bird that sings among the Egalrin, but Nasirri's voice reflects from the stones as she glides down from the cliffside, morning's simple routine, come to cherished end.

Erakirak has been out for some hours now, climbing to a high peak and jumping off, gliding down to the valley floor, working his still-immature wings hard to stay aloft as long as he can, alternating straight wing-workouts with practicing speed and maneuverability and target practice with his bow as he descends. Though he usually practices during the day, this time he was up most of the night, for reasons of his own. When he hears the singer's voice, though, he calls back, banking in a long slow circle to meet up with the cleric.

He seems a bit bashful, though, and reluctant to initiate conversation, instead doing that hesitant thing where he is clearly _there_ and attentive, but doesn't actually _say_ anything.

In the bushes below, along one of the many goat-paths, a wee green person in a sky-blue dress skulks along. She pauses every so often to step into the brush. On one such occasion, she walks out of the brush with two rabbits. The Gobbo casts a glance skyward and waves. "Erakirak!"

It is movement more than sound that draws sharp hunter's eyes-- Nasirri can't help but carry her legacy. It takes a few seconds to recognize what the younger Egalrin is doing: flight practice. She is careful not to show off, or tries not to; she angles towards the gliding soul, the gobber's welcome drawing her gaze with a singing welcome of her own.

"Welcome to dawn!" she sings out. "Beware of slippery stone. They are apoor grip-- and some cannot pause before they land most harshly!"

Erakirak nods to Nasirri, but his attention is sharply pulled away by the sound of a familiar voice calling his name. He blurts out "Murder! You came back!" with every semblance of delight, before clapping his beak shut with an embarrassed ruffle of feathers. The next few minutes are almost _painfully_ awkward, as he tries to simultaneously stay in synch with the Egalrin cleric and dive down to meet the gobber and mostly manages to do neither with any grace. Thankfully, while this may _feel_ interminable it is actually relatively brief, and he lands on a fallen log with a sudden THUMP.

"Ah... Muse, let me introduce Murder, a... a good friend of mine! Murder, this is, er, Muse... ?"

Murder waves to the other Egalrin and nods to what she sings. "I'll be careful!" Erakirak's call out makes her grin, and she crosses her arms. "I did! Did you think I wouldn't? I do live in the area and besides...", she holds up the two dead rabbits. "Had dinner to fetch." The Gobber offers a bow the the Muse. "Hallo, nice to meet you."

The golden feathered Egalrin giggles as she glides down to land, long practice showing in the flare of bright wings. . *Giggles*. A sort ofwarbling sound, half chirp and half.. something suitably avian. "Nasirri ix'Imiir," she answers. "Daygreeter and Dawnsinger, and welcome to the great mountain near the Aerie." She clicks her beak, exhaling a hot breath as she dips into a bow. It is not much, but its is home."

She glances back to her fellow (almost) flier, eyes bright even in the rigid nature of her features. "You are doing well. Did you remember the winds, the updrafting?"

"A better home than I expected to find, when I lost my first one," Rak replies feelingly. "And thank you! And yes... Eligree -- do you know him, he painted the old khazad turrets of the market? -- anyway, he showed me the thermal drafts that vent from near the Two Arrows," referencing a small rock formation not far from here, "and they are _wonderful_, it feels like I could hang in the air forever there. I have to show you," he adds excitedly to the Gobber, before bowing to Nasirri. "Your song honors the dawn," he says, making it sound like a formal expression.

Murder smiles to Nasirri. "As Rak said, my name's Murder. It's nice to meet you. Oh, it's a lovely home, I am sure. Rak was flying me about yesterday, well gliding, but we'd run up and glide down. I rode him for hours. I wish I could fly, you two are so lucky." All that said in a quick ramble. To Erakirak, she nods and smiles. "I'd love to see it." She hops from foot to foot, her smile broadening, showing off her array of sharp teeth.

Nasirri folds her hands into either sleeve, bowing with reverence. "We who are given voice to sing, do so for the joy of the Sun, and the pleasure of the Phoenix." Her beak gaes slightly, that twinkle in her eyes as she smiles. "I have found small folk to be clever," she says, "And while I do not know if flying is possible, perhaps gliding?"

She steps forward, stepping alongside Erakirak. "Eligree! It brings me joy that he does well. And still teaching!"

Erakirak blurts out proudly "I glided with her! I carried a _passenger_!!!" He seems about ready to burst with the pride of that, though Murder's tiny frame admittedly makes it not much of an accomplishment. Still. Kids. Whatchagonnado? "I can't wait till I can _really_ fly though." He flexes his wings, staring at them critically. "Surely it won't be long now, right?"

Nasirri 's serene gaze takes on a careful expression; she steps forward, hands unfurling from her garment as she approaches. "If I may?" she asks, voice gentle before she touchs shoulder, wing, feather. And stretch your arms for me," she adds, murmuring. "Down, and to either side. Tense the muscle, if you would, please..."

Murder beams with pride, puffing up as Nasirri praises small people. "We can be, but so can many others." She laughs at Erakirak's reaction, shaking her head. "Yes, I was his. Passenger that is." She expression turns mischeivous.

Erakirak obeys without hesitation, and with an air of reverence that manages to impart some semblance of grace to his habitual awkwardness. More than that -- for a long moment, as he stretches and bends as instructed, he actually seems to demonstrate the kind of grace that you'd expect from a warrior and archer, which he somehow never does seem to manage in his social life. As, indeed, he demonstrates when Murder speaks, and he nearly trips over his own talons, and several arrows fall out of his quiver.

The Muse smiles anew, beak gaping before she shuts it with a gentle click. "Much better carrying a living passenger for practice than when I first stretched my wings," Nasirri remarks, cere clicking thoughtfully. She lets her fingers run across the feathering, up to the shoulder-- catching an arrow or two as they fall! "Especially if she was excited and squirmy," she adds, mischief bright in her eyes. She holds the two arrows managed to catch, exploring on to the next wing with a chirr of approval.

"Remember that even gliding practice places strain on feather and wing. Do not forget to take time to rest--"

And a semi-bemused tone enters her voic; she glances over his shoulder. "How long HAVE you been awake, mmm?"

The Gobber catches another of the arrows before they fall to the ground, and scrabbles to pick up the others. She'll gently take the ones from Nasirri and put them all back into the quiver. She reaches an arm most the way around Rak's waist, and squeeze. "You are such fun to tease, featherbutt.", Murder says cheekily. "You're adorable."

"I slept last night!" Rak replies, defensively. "I... well. A few hours, anyway! I was... TIRED!" He drapes a wing comfortably around Murder's shoulders, not quite seeming to realize he's doing it as he tries to keep his arrows in his quiver and his pack on his shoulder and his bow where it belongs and to NOT respond to being teased about squirming passengers and "SO ANYWAY whatwereyoudoingwhenyoufirststretchedyour wings, Muse Nasirri?"

He is wearing a garment now that he wasn't, a moment earlier, a simple skirt-like sarong around his waist.

Nasirri straightens an idle feather, brushing her palms down either wing before she steps back. "Thank you, Erakirak. And...." This time, it is her turn to blush, wings reflexively tightening as she glances aside. "Falling. Many of us were on a journey up the Silver Mountain, in Am'Shere. I am ashamed to say that I learned that mountains are proud, jealous-- and have devious senses of humor." She exhales, shaking her head. "The cliffside path crumbled from under me. I shrieked like a fledgeling, and fell.... My first true glide. It was exhuberating."

She glances back sharply, eyes bright. "And not an experience to repeat if one can help it!"

Murder chuckles at Erakirak's reaction, rubbing at her cheek. She squeezes again and then looks surprised at the sarong. "That's a nice colour. I really need to get one of those." She nods to Nasirri, "The mountain can be a harsh mistress."

Erakirak nods, and grows suddenly more serious, gazing out into the middle distance. "I hatched in the Sky Curtain," he explains, "and my first glide was when my father threw me off Red Peak. Two years, nine months,sixteen days ago," he adds. But who's counting, right?

"It was... the custom. Those who could catch the wind, survived, and returned. Eventually.The rest... well. Did not." He is very, very still.

Nasirri bows her head, eyes closed. There is little else that need be said as she clicks her beak. "Even among the... more civil, there is a tendency for cruel teaching. It is part of us, much as feather and wing. As teeth and scales to the Sith'Makar. As...." She pauses, stretching as her feathers ruffle. "...well, ears are to everyone else. But they must have something, yes?"

She gives Murder a wink, teasing with laughter. "You are here, my cousin." She steps forward, reaching again-- placing a palm on his shoulder. "None shall dare such things here."

Murder looks between them both, and nods. "People who survive such ordeals are cut from a different cloth. They are made from sterner stuff." She stretches and hops from foot to foot. "Soon Erakirak will fly on his own. It will be awesome!"

Erakirak clicks agreement. "Yes. And they were... not among the more civil," he admits, shamefacedly. "They embraced the cruelty. And I... well." He stops, apparently unwilling to say more, and nods appreciatively as Nasirri talks into the awkward silence, and speaks protectively to him.

Looking suddenly determined, he blurts out "They won't dare," echoing her words. "And if they try, I'll... I'll STOP them," he blurts out, with the conviction only the young and unblooded can ever fully possess. Then he abruptly looks startled, as though he'd stepped on a sharp rock or something, and looks to Murder, and back to Nasirri, and nods, more like himself, snapping out of whatever dark mood had claimed him. "And yes! It will be AWESOME!!!" he agrees, shouting WAY too loud.

"It will!" Nasirri sings, feathers rousing across her features. She blushes a heartbeat, nares pinkening as she combs her cheeks down. "You may have seen the celebrations while hunting, Murder," she adds,standing proud. "To glide is part of learning, but when one takes wing, catches the wind, and joins the host of the sky--" She pauses, exhaling slowly. "--It is celebration. Joy. And part of the Dawnsong, telling the Sun who has joined him in gazing down on the clouds!

She squeezes Erakirak's shoulder, nodding in agreement. Determination! "You practice with the bow?" she adds, turning her eyes to the old wood. Glancing at Murder, she continues. "You both fly-- or walk, the forest paths?"

Murder grins at Erakirak's words, glad to see his attention moving away from the darker areas of his mind. She looks to Nasirri then. "I would love to see such a celebration. I have seen others like it, with the Sith, the Orouch and the Hobgoblins." THe wee green woman grins. "I do walk the paths of the old wood. Hunting, and sometimes living in there."

Erakirak clacks muted agreement. "I've seen a few celebrations," he admits, and the longing in his voice is so unmistakable his feathers stiffen in embarrassment. He lights up again when she mentions the bow, though. "Every day! I'm very good with it," he adds, apparently having forgotten what modesty sounds like. "I even destroyed a demon's altar, once!"

Nasirri beams, delighted to have guessed correctly! "I fear I have little skill with the bow," she admits, chirring laughter. "Far too much singing, one could say! But there are ones who stand out, and draw the gaze of all the world." She brings a hand down on the gobber's shoulder as well, squeezing both with a firm reverence. "And those who are quiet, cloaked, serene. A time for all things. And a time for tea, as well!"

She squeezes again, releasing before she steps back. "Though I have other duties I must complete first, I would be honored to share tea with you. I can promise it shall not be spiced too much."

"I would be honored to share tea with the Muse," Rak replies formally, bowing his head slightly... then giving a startled, mirthful trill for no clear reason. "And, would not delay your duties further if you must go, but... perhaps, I, you know," he stares at his feet awkwardly, "could join you on another morning and hear the Song again?"

Murder makes a grumbly-fussy sound when she's squeezed, but seems to enjoy the closeness, turning around in place to hug the female Egalrin. "It was nice meeting you.", she says with a sweet, scratchy-voiced tone. "Tea would be good. Perhaps I could bring some fish to go with it? It's really nice filleted and cooked up. Er..." The Gobber looks between the two bird-people. "Do you eat meat? I wouldn't want to make a social uh... mistake."

Erakirak seems confused by the question.

Nasirri raises a hand to her beak, hiding the warbling giggle as best she can. "Often," she finally manages to answer Murder, "And more often fish, here in the city. I admit a guilty joy for eels..." She chirrs, shivering with pleasure. "And when they wriggle on the way down--!"

Murder raises her eyebrows and laughs. "I love them too! Gotta eat them live! Though sometimes it's difficult, they grow larger up here. Probably less predators and not so many people catching them. I'll bring some for tea!"

Erakirak seems taken aback by the eel discussion, but soldiers on gamely. "Ah... yes. We eat a lot of fish," he echoes Nasirri's response. "Also you should show me your traps," he adds to Murder, "I'd like to see how you assemble them. The Hunter who trained me -- well, who _re_trained me -- taught me how to trap small game, but I always preferred to hunt larger ones," he explains, tapping his bow and puffing out his feathered chest.

Nasirri nods, smiling as she tenses her wings. "I admit that the love of fish is... perhaps more my own particular vice. Certainly the eels." She brushes her beak, glancing aside with a quiet mirth. "But, bring whatever pleases you. I shall provide the tea; it shall be dark, with pepper alongside for taste. For now.." She sighs, bowing with a gentle reverence. "I fear that I must continue on. Joy for your paths!" She steps forward, offering her clasp to Erakirak, eyes bright. "Swift winds carry you always when you take wing!"

"And the skies be clear above you!" Rak replies, before looking up at the clouds wryly. "Eventually!"