[Round 2] Nephele vs. R'wign

[rii]

Nephele vs. R'wign

Round Starter: Nephele

[Ember]

Nephele once again stood on stage, grateful to the crowd for giving her another go at the contest. She wasn't sure if they'd truly liked her parts or if they just felt sorry for her but in the end it didn't matter. What did matter is what kind of story she'd spin for the crowd this time. She'd been given the toughest part: the beginning. She would steer clear of any romance though. It isn't always needed for a good story. Perhaps a story from a different creature's perspective?

Clearing her throat, the girl started, "There are many beasts in this world, both kind and foul. Look there!" Nephele pointed towards the dragons sunning themselves and barely supressed a grin as most of the heads in the crowd turned. "Kindly and foul, dragons can be. The dolphins are known for their kindness as well. But what do these creatures think of us? Oh, have you forgotten that we, too, are animals? If you disagree with me, then allow me to tell you a story from the point of view of a young wild feline cub.

"You see, these southern jungles are beautiful but dangerous. The wild felines often claim the lives of the foolish people who wander in there unprotected. We hate those felines for the lives of loved ones they take. Yet how are we any different from them? How many feline families have been destroyed by those seeking revenge or merely seeking their hides? Luimos' family was one such family. During the spring of a few Turns back a little human girl was killed by felines. At the same time, Luimos and his sisters were born..."

Seeing no reason to rush things, she passed it over to her partner. She nodded at him to continue it as she stepped back a bit. Lets see what he would do with her story.

[glamourie]

He’d won. Barely, but he’d won. Ironically, after the end of round one, R’wign wanted to lose; Nautic had ended their story so well, he’d deserved to move on. Only after some encouragement from Checkoth did he agree to not drop out – the brown wanted to see him win. He hadn’t expressed his fear directly to anyone, though it was likely that his weyrmate knew: he’d suddenly found himself bombarded with pies and affectionate, at any rate, and R’wign could only deduce it was an attempt to reassure. Or seduce. Either or; whatever it was, he was grateful, though the thought of M’ta being in the crowd actually made him more anxious. He wanted so badly to impress his weyrmate, after all. It was ridiculous: odds were, M’ta would like any story he was involved in, because it was him. Just the same, R’wign wanted to be good for his sake. Some of it was insecurity; most of it was just who R’wign was: always try to impress the people who mattered… immense fear of being a disappointment was a very driving force. He was nervous, but at least he didn’t feel like he would vomit at any second. That was a perk compared to the day before.

Standing at the edge of the stage, R’wign glanced over the girl who was his competition… and instantly felt better: she didn’t look like the Blossomite army. She looked normal and he felt less alienated as a result. If he remembered correctly, she was even a dragonrider – weyrling in K’lir’s class. Much better than dealing with the ones who all looked alike. So frightening. He was half-convinced he nerved himself out with Nautic because of that.

He offered the girl a curt nod as she began to speak, but lingered at the edge of the stage as she introduced the beginning of the story. His mind already began turning. Unfortunately, his outfit wasn’t exactly fit for a costume – not with the loose-fitting black pants and white tunic with long sleeves. Quite boring, actually. R’wign carefully brushed his fingers through his raven-black locks and mentally shooed his flitters away – off to perch on M’ta (who was unlikely to like them being there, but oh well). No using his pets to his advantage this time. He wanted to compete fairly. R’wign put one foot on the first step up toward the stage, head tilting, one hand moving to adjust his eye patch – but he wasn’t wearing it; he was wearing one of the crafted glass eyes, specifically the blue one. One blue eye. One dark green eye. He looked weird, he was sure.

Here goes…

“There were three of them altogether,” R’wign said as he stepped onto the stage and turned to address the crowd. “Luimos was the oldest, you see, and the only boy – and his sisters were Lira and Londri. And like many boys, Luimos enjoyed picking at his sisters – deliberately doing things to upset them, sneaking up to cause surprises, and ultimately getting into mischief. And you see, feline cubs are not much better at minding than human… minding the rules wasn’t something that Luimos was terribly fond of. And one of the most important rules was to stay away from the jungle edges. No matter how often he asked, no one would explain to him exactly why. His mother and father stated it as a rule – the cubs were to stay far from the edges of the jungle, away from where humans could see them… because humans could not be trusted.”

R’wign crinkled his nose and then gestured vaguely to the horizon. “Well, boys will be boys and children will be children. Without an explanation, it was really only a matter of time before Luimos and his sisters decided to test the boundaries of those rules. Eventually, they did just that – on one cool Fall afternoon when the trio was playing together unsupervised…”

[Ember]

Nephele was mildly amused that she recognized her partner. She probably should have been able to do so earlier but she had been a bit distracted by the crowd and the story. He was the one who had blamed her and her firelizard for a rogue salamandyr at a hatching not so long ago. She'd long since let go of her annoyance over that though. She listened passively to his part and almost sighed when it was passed back to her.

One part tired, two parts excited. She took more or less center stage again and continued the story with a bit of the information R'wign had just given her. "Luimos convinced his sisters to go to the edge of the jungle with him. They were reluctant at first but he needled them and dared them to come if they weren't wherries. When they arrived Luimos was disappointed. There was nothing special about it, no secrets to be uncovered."

Nephele shook her head slightly. "Their adventure took a turn for the worse as they decided to go back to their play place. The three stumbled into a hunter's trap. The next thing they knew they were hanging in a net above the ground. There they hung as the sun began to sink lower and lower. It would only be a matter of time before the hunters checked their trap and saw the siblings. Their plaintive cries for their parents echoed through the trees..."

[glamourie]

She was familiar. Hmm. R’wign eyed Nephele as she spoke, making a point to circle behind her – pacing, more than anything else. The movements were intended to look like a restless feline but, being human, he wasn’t sure how genuine it appeared. At least it was movement though. He cast the girl a curious look as she spoke, noting the story elements so far. Easy enough to work off of, he supposed. And when she stopped speaking, he offered her an encouraging smile before literally springing forward across the stage, toward the front of it in what could only be described as a pounce. He rested on his knees on the very edge and leaned forward to address the audience directly, hands curling around the wooden edges to keep himself balanced. He leaned forward slightly, jaw tilting up, and then lifted one hand to crook his fingers at the audience – almost as though asking them to listen more closely. Listen, listen. Because it was important that they not miss anything.

“You can imagine the terror Luimos felt. High in the trees, he and his sisters hung, and no matter how much they squirmed, the net gave no indication of giving way. Their loud cries carried through the forest, but the hours, they dragged on and on… and soon, the sky started to darken. The stars were peeking through the skies, they could see them, and no one was coming. It was past time to come home to their mama and papa and the rest of their pride – and Luimos wondered if they would even notice they were gone. It felt like so long, dangling there, he was sure that his tail was going numb…”

Exaggeratedly flailing his arms, R’wign then brought one finger up to his lips, as if hushing. He moved his feet in his crouching position to make the wood creak beneath him as he spoke next, “But there came movement, the steady sound of leaves rustling, and the fear that Luimos felt started to fade. It was surely mama, coming to rescue him and his sisters. He’d be scolded, yes, but they would be free of the nasty woven thing that held them. His ears perked in his excitement, and he and his sisters, mewling, turned to look for their mama, come to get them down. Their squeaking got louder, and louder, to help her identify where they were – come, come rescue them! It was getting late and he was so hungry and – and what he saw was not his mama.”

R’wign paused for dramatic effect and waved one hand before standing back up. He stilled, head tilting, and glanced toward the side of the stage. It was meant to be ominous – let them get spooked about what could have come for the three mischievous feline cubs. His eyebrows raised, and then R’wign scratched his head. He was very glad to not be queasy this time – it made telling the story easier. No fear of throwing up on the audience. Or his partner. Awkward.

“The creature that approached, it was like nothing that Luimos had ever seen before. It walked on two legs.” He made the last statement sound like it was something completely shocking and scandalous. “Rather than fur, it had a weird series of colored things on it – and carried different objects that went clatter-clatter. Luimos and his sisters shrinked back in fear, but captured as they were, there was little they could do. He felt his eyes going wide, and he trembled – was this one of the monsters that mama had spoken of? Was it? He was so scared to find out, and the monster was coming closer, closer. And it wasn’t alone. It brought others like it – a pride of its own, but they all had silvery claws that they carried rather than sheathed. Luimos gulped and mewled to his sisters reassuringly – he was the oldest, he had to keep them all safe – but he was scared, too. What did they intend to do with those pointies?

“He was about to find out. The creature spoke in words he did not understand and moved to the tree where he was tied – but not to free them. The biggest one seized the side of the net he and his sisters were in and untangled it from around the branch, dislodging them. The three cubs, in their fear, began to squall loudly. Instinct told them that wherever that stranger was going to take them wouldn’t be good. They didn’t want to go with this creature.” R’wign shook his head and waved his hands, as though to mimic frantic panicking. “And their screams resounded through the jungle, and they did not go unheard… for the cubs did have a very worried mama looking for all over for her lost babies…”

R’wign paused again and gestured toward the edge of the stage. “The crying reached her ears, and the wild feline dashed – alone – toward the sound. She ran through the jungles as though she owned them, leaping over roots and fallen tree limbs, before a terrifying sight caught her eyes: Humans. How many times had she warned her babies of them? How many times had she told them no, to stay away? How could they have not listened? Fear filled her as she caught sight of her cubs caught up in a human net, and she reacted without thinking, as mamas often do when their little’uns are in danger – she pounced, claws extended, onto the man carrying the net of feline cubs. Her jaws clamped down on his throat, and she knocked him to the ground with force, sending Luimos and his siblings tumbling across the ground. As she dug her claws in, the cubs backed up to the tree they were near, terrified – and grateful to see their mama.

“But the hunter was not alone, and his companions reacted with reflexes that rivaled the feline’s. They launched onto her with their spears, gauging her sides. Breathless, their mama gave instructions – Run. Run home, now – to her children. It would be the last thing that she ever said to them…”

[Ember]

The smile wasn't entirely lost on Nephele. She appreciated the gesture though she wasn't nervous, not precisely. Aware of the competition and the crowd without being overly worried. It helped to think that people were judging the story rather than the person. It was true both ways around but her way of thinking certainly was more comforting. She listened to her partner spin more of the tale and she had to admit he was doing really well. He had her enthralled too, even though she'd been expecting as much.

Hmm, where to bring the story now? "Sobbing, Luimos led his sisters through the forest at his mother's dying orders. In their own territory and on four legs they quickly got out of range of the two-leggers. The ran for what seemed like hours until they reached their home. It was empty when they arrived, everyone still out searching for them. The siblings huddled in the den, sad and guilt-ridden. If only they hadn't gone, hadn't broken the rules...But no one can change the past."

Nephele shook her head sadly. She curled around her arms slightly and tried to make herself small and pitiful. "They fell asleep like that. In the morning when they awoke their father was curled around them as always, but the absence of their mother made their hearts ache. Luimos was taking it particularily hard. Days and nights passed and his grief turned to anger. That anger simmered within him as a couple of years passed, spiking every time he heard about another feline being killed by the humans," the last word was spat out with as much anger and disgust as she could manage. She wasn't as energetic as R'wign but she threw in the occasional flourish too.

"One night, the eldest brother slipped away in the night. His sisters had moved in with life but he was unable to bear his hatred for his mother's killers any longer. Luimos turned into one of those felines humans fear most. One that would actively hunt them whether they were a hunter or not. He eventually stumbled across a family of humans who had been kicked out of their hold who were foolishly camping in the jungle..."

[glamourie]

R’wign tilted his head slightly and smiled, though he was honestly uncomfortable. He didn’t like felines. The scars all over his chest made him detest the creatures, and the story was awkward as a result; he couldn’t let his own personal bias sway against it, but he didn’t particularly like making a monster the hero of a story. R’wign pushed that irritation away from his mind. No sense getting himself worked up over it; he was doing fine before. Just keep focusing on the fact that it was a story – not anything meant by it. Right.

“There were five of them altogether,” R’wign said with a nod toward the audience, his head cocking to the side. “Luimos settled himself in the thick undergrowth of the forest and prepared himself to watch – watch and study as any dutiful hunter did. His fur blended in with the dying leaves, and the holdless family did not hear or see his approach. They were blissfully oblivious. Surely this jungle was not dangerous – it seemed harmless enough. Yes, they’d heard about wild feline attacks, but never in that jungle and they weren’t welcome in their Hold – where else were they supposed to go? They were certain that they’d be able to hear a pride of felines approaching in advance, and therefore their spot would be safe from any kind of attack. They had camped near climbable trees, after all, and wild felines rarely bothered to go up them – or so they were told. All in all, they thought themselves safe, and Luimos watched them, angered by their arrogance.

“Well, what they weren’t counting on was that he was alone. You see, as the days turned to Turns of anger swelling inside, Luimos grew distant from his pride. Few would associate with the angry feline, and even fewer would follow on his misadventures – and that was just as well, because he didn’t want any of them around anyway. His pride viewed him as an outcast – someone to be barely associated with at best. Even his sisters spent little time with him. This worked to Luimos’s advantage: the humans expected to hear a pride of felines, not just one, and dismissed any sounds he made as imagination. Surely one lone hunter would not dare come up against five humans, especially not when felines hunted best in packs!”

Pausing for dramatic effect, R’wign stalked along the edge of the platform. He crouched down slightly and put one hand behind his ear as though listening to the sounds nearby – as if he could hear something that no one else could. His hands curled at the edge of the stage, he cocked his head to the side, and he feigned whispering – but everyone would be able to hear him if they were paying attention. He wasn’t trying to be too quiet, after all. The point of the contest was to get a story across, and he intended to help do just that… maybe with a little too much theatrical flare, though?

R’wign tilted his head to the side and continued, “So it was that the five people went on their merry way.” He’d picked five for a reason, and soon everyone would know why. “Luimos watched from his secret hiding spot; he watched and he learned from these two-leggeds, so familiar and yet so different. He was distinctly aware of the setting sun and night time growing nearer, and that was when he would launch his assault. Felines, you see, have better vision in the night than any human, and he intended to use that to his advantage. He remained still, lest the strangers hear him and catch onto his ploy… and once the full cover of dark arrived, he decided to mount his assault. He would start with the largest of the caravans, for that was the one that kept the big male – so much like the one that had taken mama away from him. The big male and the mama would be first, and then he would move on to the others – their cubs.”

The content might have been getting a little sketchy – or at least not completely family friendly. He wasn’t sure. Just the same, R’wign had an idea and fully intended to run with it – perhaps the way he twisted the story would be enough to keep people from thinking badly of his angle. Who knew? “As soon as full dark encompassed the jungle, Luimos rose to his feet and slipped, sneakily, into the campsite. He prowled with care, avoiding the embers of the warming fire that was put out before the family went to bed, and he approached the largest caravan in secret… or so he thought!

“But as Luimos was walking, he made one fateful mistake: he underestimated his prey. His foot snared on a trap very similar to the one that had caught him as a cub, and he was immediately launched into the air, captive in a strongly built net that kept him secured high into the air. He screeched in defiance at his predicament, launched high into the trees, and he writhed. The family, drawn by the sound, all came scurrying out of their caravans to check on the traps and were horrified at what they saw.”

His arms flung up into the air and he mimicked a female voice, not very well but what was he to do? He wasn’t female. “‘Feline!’ proclaimed the mother of the family, and she backed away in horror. Had he come to eat her babies? She wouldn’t allow it. Frightened but protective, she turned to her husband, who spoke loud enough only for the family to hear. ‘Where there’s one, there’s more,’ the father said, and he gathered a spear from the back of the caravan. He was a seasoned hunter, though felines were not often his prey. Dealing with one meant finding an escape for his family. You see, this hunter was not going to put his children at risk – they would have to leave. He instructed the little ones to climb into the caravan and mumbled something to his wife that Luimos couldn’t hear. He was frightened, and he screeched loudly; perhaps one of the other felines would be nearby and come to his aid…

“But it wasn’t a feline who answered his cry. No, it was something far stranger, for as Luimos squirmed to try and free himself, he was presented by the strangest of sights. Of the three children, the youngest was a little boy –a mere baby in Luimos’s eyes, but to humans perhaps six would be accurate – and upon hearing the feline’s strangled cries, the child placed himself in front of the net… in between the hanging Luimos, captive and defenseless, and his father with the spear.

“‘You can’t kill him!’ the child proclaimed. ‘He doesn’t mean us any harm! That’s murder!’”

[Ember]

If there was any real message behind the story it was not about how sorry people should feel for felines. Although the idea that they were evil was a misconception. Hungry and territorial more like. People killed them for coming into human habitations, why shouldn't they do the same when their homes were invaded? Anyways, not the point. The felines in the story had more human-like characteristics than normal and so it was relfective of human nature. People didn't like being insulted though, so diguising them as animals worked well enough.

The story took an interesting twist and she made a low appreciative sound. Her partner didn't have Harper's knots but he was good at storytelling. Nephele's mind was fast at work thinking of a way to bring the story to its conclusion in a natural way. She had a pretty good set up so it oughn't be too hard. She took a deep breath and took up her part again despite the feeling that she'd been outclassed this round. Time to ignore the temptation of the title and focus on delivering the almost-ending.

"Luimos, naturally, was bewildered. He may not have understood the weird two-leggeds' words but the little boy's body language was telling enough. He'd inserted himself between the danger and the feline and there was a faint trace of anger towards the hunter. Being protected in such a way brought back memories, especially of that fateful day his mother died." How far to take her part? She had to leave her partner with enough room.

"The father was equally confused by his child's actions. He shook his head and said, 'Son, that creature is dangerous. He'd kill us given the chance.' This was true enough. Luimos had been intending to wipe out the family. Though he suddenly found himself owing the boy for giving him more time. There was still a chance that one of the other felines had heard his cry and would come. It was a more understandable hope than the baby before him."

"The boy stomped his feet in the way only six turn olds could and pointed at his father. 'Isn't that what you're doing? He didn't do anything to you!' His father had no answer to that. It was the truth, however naively said. 'Then what is it you want me to do?' he asked the child, curious to know the answer. 'If I let him down he may attack us. Are you telling me to trust this wild animal?'" And with that she let R'wign take over again.

[glamourie]

Right, right, right. R’wign fidgeted curiously, watching Nephele from his position on the end of the stage – giving her his full attention, but he was careful to try and make his body language reflective of the twists to the story that she told. Rather than sit still and comfortably, he tensed himself up, half-perching, fingers curled under the ends of his boots. His head cocked to the side ever so slightly, as though listening, and at the appropriate moments, he shifted, rocking back and forth – almost in the same kind of posture that an upset feline would assume. Back and forth, back and forth. He was careful to never let his gaze leave Nephele as she spoke, which he realized could be unnerving but whatever – his goal was to create imagery with his body language, to tell the story that words alone could not do, and to paint an image in the minds of the audience. He wasn’t sure how well he was doing, though, since felines were decidedly not human and most people lacked the imagination to put a human face on a wild animal. He didn’t blame them much, either.

As her portion of the story wound to a close, R’wign offered Nephele an encouraging smile, and then languidly rose to his feet. His gaze turned downward toward the wooden surface of the platform and he paced, back and forth, deliberately being as soundless as possible. Felines were quiet when restless, after all.

“‘He’s not a wild AMINAL,’ the boy replied.” R’wign was careful to deliberately mispronounce the word animal, because in his experience, extremely zealous young children tended to stumble over longer words when upset. Faking tone of voice only went so far. “‘He’s just confused. Aren’t you? You’re just scared, right? I’d be scared in a net,’ the child continued, before pointing at the net with the feline. ‘Can’t we take the net and take him away from here? Take him some place safe? If we let him go far away, he won’t bother us, and then we don’t have to hurt him. Please, papa, please?’” Technically, felines were too big for one adult man to carry – R’wign knew that from experience. However, technicalities of stories weren’t necessary – as evidenced by the story he’d told with Nautic. Sometimes a few fantastical elements were needed to make something fun and enjoyable. So. Bending possibilities a bit, he was. “The little boy pleaded with his father, curling his fingers together in front of his chest. If they let the wild feline go, why, he’d be a good boy for the whole rest of the turn, he would. He just didn’t want to see it get hurt…”

Trailing off, R’wign rocked on the balls of his feet and nodded toward an invisible net that only he could see. “Luimos stilled himself in his net as he watched the interaction between boy and man. He understood little of their words, but he was able to decipher enough to understand what was happening: the human baby, for whatever reason, did not want to see him hurt. Now, Luimos was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them – the hunter was listening to the cub, and he was better off not making a sound if he was to hope to be free. He watched with wide, golden eyes, anxious and terrified, as the hunter moved toward him and spoke. He pointed the spear at him and Luimos shrank back, but the expected stabbing did not come. Instead, the hunter seized the top of the net and removed it from the tree. With the help of one of his runners, he and his son – only the cub, not the women and girl children – began to carry Luimos through the jungle. They traveled with care, listening intently for sounds of felines approaching. None came. And Luimos was quiet.

“The father-son pair, with their feline captive, at last came to a stop near a river path through the jungle. This, the hunter reasoned, would be a safe place to release the wild feline – far from where he was camped, but a place where he could easily find drink and food. While a single feline was unusual – and for that reason, the hunter had ordered his wife and daughters from the jungle entirely; he did not trust them to remain safe – it wasn’t unheard of. Perhaps releasing the creature here would keep it from attacking anyone else in the jungle. And he and his family would be able to find somewhere new to take shelter from the elements.”

R’wign rubbed his nose. He’d have to wrap the story up soon or it’d drag and be slanted toward him; an idea occurred to him and he resisted the smile threatening to spread over his face. “The hunter moved to the net and, after ordering his son backwards, he cut the top – freeing Luimos. He moved back instantly to guard his son as the feline recoiled from his bindings, backing up in obvious fear. His fur ruffled, standing up on his back, and Luimos stared at the hunter and his son – terrified. Had they released him just to kill him? He didn’t believe that was what the baby wanted, but adult twoleggeds, they couldn’t be trusted. He remembered what they’d done to his mother. The wounds were still fresh in his mind…

“But before he had a chance to wait and see, Luimos heard rustling from behind him – quiet rustling that would reach only the gifted hearting of a feline and not of a human. His golden eyes went wide as he spied a familiar glow amidst the foliage and he had only a moment to react. Against his better judgment, Luimos leapt forward, throwing himself in front of the human baby who had so brazenly protected him – and his movements were just in time. Only a second later, one of his sisters collided with him, and the pair rolled across the ground roughly. Had he not been there, she would have been able to kill the little human with just the impact of her pouncing… as was likely her intent.

“‘Luimos!’ she cried, as her brother’s weight pinned her beneath him. ‘These twoleggeds meant to kill you! I’m here to help!’

“‘They didn’t, sister,’ Luimos replied, unaware of the human eyes on his back; they were backing away, but had no doubt noticed the risk he took in protecting the cub who had sought to protect him. ‘The small one convinced the big one to save me. Do you see, sister? They are not attacking. They are leaving.’ And Luimos’s sister, released from underneath him, turned to look at the twoleggeds for the first time. They were, indeed, backing away… but the human child moved forward to hold one hand out to Luimos – against his father’s wishes and despite a desperate attempt to pull him back. It was as though he sensed, without words, the intention of the older male feline, and Luimos prowled forward to lick the outstretched hand encouragingly.

“He’d learned a lesson, you see; the human baby meant to spare him, solely because he was alone. He understood that. And he would spare the human baby his sister’s temper in return. Perhaps not all humans were bad after all…”

R’wign cocked his head to the side, glanced at Nephele one last time, and then said loud enough for the audience to hear. “Luimos and his sister left the hunter and his child there by the river side, and the two families parted ways. A lessen had been learned that day, through the innocence of a child – as Luimos had been fascinated by humans as a cub, the human child was fascinated by felines. Did he remember into adulthood that felines were dangerous? Certainly. But did he grow up thinking them hapless monsters? No. That one child was one of the first to realize – just because felines are dangerous wild animals does not mean they don’t have a right to life, the same as we do. And as for Luimos – he learned, at last, to accept his mother’s death, and stop holding that grudge against all humans for one’s mistake. Dangerous enemies though they were, humans and felines could live in relative peace… so long as they treated each other as they themselves wanted to be treated.”

R’wign stepped back a few steps and casually grabbed Nephele by the hand before launching into a flourishing bow. It was an odd ending, he knew, but the one he wanted was not exactly child-friendly. So he settled for a moral lesson. It was her story, too, and the applause was meant for them both – not just him. He wanted to make sure that she got her final bow as well.

[rii]

Round 2

Winner: R'wign