Willow looked up, ever so slightly. Eryl could see the girl’s eyes as she thought about the plea; genuine, honest thought. Unlike the previous offers for her to leave, which had been met with bull headed and stubborn teenage confidence, this one seemed to finally make the Brit weigh the matter in her head. As she had been made aware of the risks were very real in this endeavor, and she wasn’t guaranteed to succeed simply because she was Willow Fairburn, Allomancer. Already this had taken a toll on her body as well as her mind, and there was no telling how much it could cost her by the end. Perhaps she really could just call it here, and head home with the skills she had acquired in this dream.
“Maybe Treebeard's right. We don't belong here, Merry. It's too big for us. What can we do in the end? We've got the Shire. Maybe we should go home” Willow spoke softly, mostly to herself before looking over her shoulder to Manon. Her eyes diverted away, back downward, this time towards Phyllis. Then she took a deep and steadying breath as she raised her eyes once more. When she spoke again her words were still lacking her usual exuberance, insteading carrying a degree of grave inflection. “The fires of Isengard will spread. And the woods of Tuckburough and Buckland will burn. And all that was once green and good in this world will be gone.”
Willow put her hand gently onto Eryl’s as it held her shoulder, and she looked the triclops in the eyes; her look gentle, kind, but also a little sad.
“I would never be able to look myself in the mirror again, knowing that, even if just in a dream, I had turned away from this. It’s not my home, but I care for it and the folk who live here just the same. I’m going to keep fighting to make sure they are safe; and I’m going to keep fighting to try and make sure no more little girls need to suffer as you did.”
Willow gave Eryl a warm smile, and a burn of Zinc to give a feeling of Hope.
“So, mazel tov, you’re officially on this list of people I’m fighting for; whether you like it or not.”
Then the Brit booped the triclops’ nose.
[The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
The touch to the nose was like a jolt to Eryl's system, and her speechlessness left her searching in the eyes of the others. Manon stood stiffly, her face a placid mask, but plainly projecting a need for some sort of lead in this part of the play. Phyllis gave Eryl a pat on the thigh, and laughed.
"Do or die," was the Sergeant's words, but they didn't seem to comfort the triclops. Instead, she seemed to be fighting something deep inside herself, as if the hope Willow stirred in her was more of a sickness.
"Then," began Eryl, slowly, clenching her heart as if it were going to leap from her chest, "I can only try to ensure that you succeed. If you'll do this for me, someone you've never known until just this day, then I cannot let you go without help."
"This is a sign," affirmed Phyllis, throwing her arms up with a big smile, "if Baba has come to help us, that's the very Elementalia itself on our side."
"That is all well and good," Manon interjected over the canidaer, still puffing her chest up at Eryl, "but where does zis leave Willow? We have good feelings, but we are in a worse position than before. No one iz going to fight for a cruel dose of reality, and last I checked, Mx. Casson only has one arm left, and there are many gods in zis forest. What, will we make zem fight for a chance to draw lots for the other arm?"
"Perhaps that is all unnecessary," answered Eryl, again speaking softly, but firmly, to these points, "this gathering the help of the spirits. An army is large and powerful, but such a large force invites an equal response. Were we..."
She looked at Willow, before addressing the other two further, "audacious, we might consider a small force of no more than three or four while this shade is concerned with the gathering of spirits here."
"Do or die," was the Sergeant's words, but they didn't seem to comfort the triclops. Instead, she seemed to be fighting something deep inside herself, as if the hope Willow stirred in her was more of a sickness.
"Then," began Eryl, slowly, clenching her heart as if it were going to leap from her chest, "I can only try to ensure that you succeed. If you'll do this for me, someone you've never known until just this day, then I cannot let you go without help."
"This is a sign," affirmed Phyllis, throwing her arms up with a big smile, "if Baba has come to help us, that's the very Elementalia itself on our side."
"That is all well and good," Manon interjected over the canidaer, still puffing her chest up at Eryl, "but where does zis leave Willow? We have good feelings, but we are in a worse position than before. No one iz going to fight for a cruel dose of reality, and last I checked, Mx. Casson only has one arm left, and there are many gods in zis forest. What, will we make zem fight for a chance to draw lots for the other arm?"
"Perhaps that is all unnecessary," answered Eryl, again speaking softly, but firmly, to these points, "this gathering the help of the spirits. An army is large and powerful, but such a large force invites an equal response. Were we..."
She looked at Willow, before addressing the other two further, "audacious, we might consider a small force of no more than three or four while this shade is concerned with the gathering of spirits here."
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
“I’m only kinda sure I know the actual definition of audacious, and I’m pretty sure I fit it pretty close to a T. But… it sounds like audacious means using these people as bait, and if that’s the case I’m not sure I want to be audacious,” Willow seemed almost a little pained at the thought. “Trust me, literally a day ago I was raring to Zero Dark Thirty this whole shebang; channel some of the assassin heritage of allomancy.”
Squinting, Willow clicked her tongue.
“I won’t do it unless the go… the spirits… are aware of it.”
She held her hands out to the side as she tried to think.
“Let them know what would be coming their way. Let them, I don’t know, fortify their position some; make themselves… a more appealing target?” A sigh escaped from her. “I’m really not great at this… planning and strategizing shtick. Haaaa, what would Gold do that Iron wouldn’t?... Aside from not being in this situation in the first place.”
Taking a moment to think, Willow tried to figure how a more rational minded Willow would approach the matter. Base line, Gold would probably cite some historical book about military doctrine. Okay. Willow’s side was scattered, and ostensibly the weaker of the sides seeing as the wraiths were wraiths and just kind of fucky at their core. What’s more, this was going to be a drawn out affair, what with the Weapon of Mass Druiding Li’l Ruarc getting primed for launch.
Not that it would make a difference if it were a drawn out matter. Vengeance’s forces didn’t need supply lines, didn’t need bases of operation beyond the Nightmare Nexus that the big bad herself haunted, and for all Willow knew they didn’t even need to sleep. So, how to turn the one large encounter into a less shitty one? Accept that losses will likely happen, and trust those that do stick around to do their part; all while she and the smaller force try to finish matters as quick as can be.
“If…” Willow started again, this time imagining herself a bit more like Gold. “If the force here knows about the risk, they could turn the engagement into an ambush. I saw last night that while the wraiths and associated awfuls are terrifying and rough to fight; they can be pretty single minded. The Leaf tribe of spriggans were able to get the jump on the wraiths and Vengeance when they were focused on my little group. A big tempting target like a gathered army could do the same thing, and then as the wraiths are rushing in with the goal of doing what they do best bam the spriggans go full Ewok. Draw the wraiths in, then disrupt their lines… waves… whatever… like last night.”
Rubbing her neck, Willow huffed.
“Of course, that is all dependent on my side of things not ending up South of the Bog, but I think it would both be an easier sell to the Moot as well as easier on my conscience. I might just be fooling myself though.”
Squinting, Willow clicked her tongue.
“I won’t do it unless the go… the spirits… are aware of it.”
She held her hands out to the side as she tried to think.
“Let them know what would be coming their way. Let them, I don’t know, fortify their position some; make themselves… a more appealing target?” A sigh escaped from her. “I’m really not great at this… planning and strategizing shtick. Haaaa, what would Gold do that Iron wouldn’t?... Aside from not being in this situation in the first place.”
Taking a moment to think, Willow tried to figure how a more rational minded Willow would approach the matter. Base line, Gold would probably cite some historical book about military doctrine. Okay. Willow’s side was scattered, and ostensibly the weaker of the sides seeing as the wraiths were wraiths and just kind of fucky at their core. What’s more, this was going to be a drawn out affair, what with the Weapon of Mass Druiding Li’l Ruarc getting primed for launch.
Not that it would make a difference if it were a drawn out matter. Vengeance’s forces didn’t need supply lines, didn’t need bases of operation beyond the Nightmare Nexus that the big bad herself haunted, and for all Willow knew they didn’t even need to sleep. So, how to turn the one large encounter into a less shitty one? Accept that losses will likely happen, and trust those that do stick around to do their part; all while she and the smaller force try to finish matters as quick as can be.
“If…” Willow started again, this time imagining herself a bit more like Gold. “If the force here knows about the risk, they could turn the engagement into an ambush. I saw last night that while the wraiths and associated awfuls are terrifying and rough to fight; they can be pretty single minded. The Leaf tribe of spriggans were able to get the jump on the wraiths and Vengeance when they were focused on my little group. A big tempting target like a gathered army could do the same thing, and then as the wraiths are rushing in with the goal of doing what they do best bam the spriggans go full Ewok. Draw the wraiths in, then disrupt their lines… waves… whatever… like last night.”
Rubbing her neck, Willow huffed.
“Of course, that is all dependent on my side of things not ending up South of the Bog, but I think it would both be an easier sell to the Moot as well as easier on my conscience. I might just be fooling myself though.”
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
While Manon and Phyllis took time to think of something, realizing the enormity of what Willow was contemplating, Eryl seemed taken. She looked at the Allomancer with an expression of something that reminded Willow of Mr. Caxton on the day of the final duel where he had been cut at the neck. Eryl was intrigued, and amazed all in one moment. There was no essence of surprise, nothing like how she acted when Willow had boldly announced her intent to charge forth.
"Where does that leave yae on tellin' them about their demise?" reminded Phyllis.
"We don't," cut in Manon, her police attire melting away into her clownish garments, "What good does the truth do when it itself does no good? If zey are truly destined for this fate? Telling them ahead of time is just cruel."
Her piece said, Manon began avoiding eye contact with Willow, averting her gaze.
"If that's the plan, then I'd say we cannae do better than that," assented Phyllis, "The Forestfolk are known best for their recklessness and their zeal. I donnae think they'd object to bein' bait if they knew their gods had thrown in. There's nothin' in this world worse than a Spriggan who has your number."
"Best to leave the tactics to those that know them best" encouraged Eryl, catching the attention of the other two. Her hand, which had floated away from Willow, glided back to offer her strength, "You have your plan. Draw them here, where they would be weaker, and expected. A defender has the best chances of turning attrition into their favor, and Vengeance is the wraith of the Guardian who created the Spriggans, she will, in turn, be reckless and zealous."
With an assuring squeeze she asked, "Would you like me to come with you to speak to your representative here about the change in plan?"
Manon leaned in, her fingers wriggling, "I could take you."
An unusually stony gaze from the triclops shut that down.
"Where does that leave yae on tellin' them about their demise?" reminded Phyllis.
"We don't," cut in Manon, her police attire melting away into her clownish garments, "What good does the truth do when it itself does no good? If zey are truly destined for this fate? Telling them ahead of time is just cruel."
Her piece said, Manon began avoiding eye contact with Willow, averting her gaze.
"If that's the plan, then I'd say we cannae do better than that," assented Phyllis, "The Forestfolk are known best for their recklessness and their zeal. I donnae think they'd object to bein' bait if they knew their gods had thrown in. There's nothin' in this world worse than a Spriggan who has your number."
"Best to leave the tactics to those that know them best" encouraged Eryl, catching the attention of the other two. Her hand, which had floated away from Willow, glided back to offer her strength, "You have your plan. Draw them here, where they would be weaker, and expected. A defender has the best chances of turning attrition into their favor, and Vengeance is the wraith of the Guardian who created the Spriggans, she will, in turn, be reckless and zealous."
With an assuring squeeze she asked, "Would you like me to come with you to speak to your representative here about the change in plan?"
Manon leaned in, her fingers wriggling, "I could take you."
An unusually stony gaze from the triclops shut that down.
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
“Sounds good to me. Probably would be best not to spring something like this on them suddenly at the moot,” Willow nodded to Eryl. A quick look over to Manon and then back to the triclops, the Brit held up a finger to pause real quick. Turning full on towards her French classmate, Willow surprised herself, and possibly even Manon, by what she did next. The allomancer hugged the clown.
“Don’t say anything snarky; you seem like you need a hug. That was a lot to take in. We’ll make this work. We’ll make this right,” Willow spoke candidly, but despite her words being directed to Manon they were just as much for herself. Every new event or revelation felt like more weight pressing down on her, but they just kept coming. Even with her solidified resolve, Willow wasn’t the brimming beacon of self-assurance she usually was. Reality didn’t pull punches, and so Willow wasn’t going to pull any either; even if that meant showing vulnerability. At least it was to a friend. Alright, that was probably long enough for a reassuring hug.
“Alright, moot prep, go.” Willow broke off the hug and spun a pointed finger towards the sky a couple times before pointing back towards the village. “I’ll finish my run later.”
“Don’t say anything snarky; you seem like you need a hug. That was a lot to take in. We’ll make this work. We’ll make this right,” Willow spoke candidly, but despite her words being directed to Manon they were just as much for herself. Every new event or revelation felt like more weight pressing down on her, but they just kept coming. Even with her solidified resolve, Willow wasn’t the brimming beacon of self-assurance she usually was. Reality didn’t pull punches, and so Willow wasn’t going to pull any either; even if that meant showing vulnerability. At least it was to a friend. Alright, that was probably long enough for a reassuring hug.
“Alright, moot prep, go.” Willow broke off the hug and spun a pointed finger towards the sky a couple times before pointing back towards the village. “I’ll finish my run later.”
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
Of the many people in Safeholme, Willow was probably the only one that saw the human behind the greasepaint. Manon had jumped at the affection, but welcomed it in the next breath, furrowing her brows as she collected herself. The warmth was returned as much as it was given, and when the moment passed, Manon seemed to breathe lighter.
"Bon, ben... c’est parti."
More banners emerged from the woods behind them as they all made for the center of the Leaf Village. Throngs of spriggans rattled and chittered in excitement, some in robes of white, some clad in chitinous armor. Fires went up surrounding the peaceful, suspended villages in a halo of light.
They passed the statue of the Leaf God, and found a couple of tribesman from other banners pointing and laughing. Horst was among them, but he merely stared, joining the Allomancer's party when he caught eyes with her.
Again they went by the class of young Leaf children, but their teacher was arguing furiously with another non-Leaf tribesman. They could just make out the disagreement, something about religious falsehoods being mixed with real knowledge.
Catching the nearest raised walkway, they ascended into the village proper. One of the Leaffolk who had been on guard duty at the hit recognized Willow greeted her warmly, and revealed that their god was at the central canton. As none of them knew the way, and Horst was a Horn Tribesman, he had his sister guide them. She bounced along, carrying a thurible filled with a smoky-sweet scent, waving it as she went.
A brilliant structure of carven wood greeted them, a round platform held aloft by the mighty trees around them. Large tapestries were stretched over it to catch the sun. They seemed to depict the story of a one-armed boy descending from above the trees on a cloud of stars. One tapestry depicted spriggans healing the boy, with the next showing a long history of the boy and the spriggans returning favor after favor to each other.
At the center stood the Leaf God over his people, who were tending to a long lone of spriggans from other tribes. The sick, the weary and the curious formed lines that went down other gantries and around the trees. Leaf paced back and forth with the Pebble God in tow, guiding the efforts.
Upon seeing Willow, Pebble came running, and threw her arms around her waist.
"Willow!" exulted Pebble, in better health, though still not all there, "Leaf says you have a plan that will save us."
"I said she was going to help me with a plan to take the fight to Vengeance," corrected Leaf, gently adjusting one of his tending acolytes with his staff. "Good to see you, Willow, how was the run?"
His masked face turned just so to Manon.
"You're multiplying by the hour, I see."
"Bon, ben... c’est parti."
More banners emerged from the woods behind them as they all made for the center of the Leaf Village. Throngs of spriggans rattled and chittered in excitement, some in robes of white, some clad in chitinous armor. Fires went up surrounding the peaceful, suspended villages in a halo of light.
They passed the statue of the Leaf God, and found a couple of tribesman from other banners pointing and laughing. Horst was among them, but he merely stared, joining the Allomancer's party when he caught eyes with her.
Again they went by the class of young Leaf children, but their teacher was arguing furiously with another non-Leaf tribesman. They could just make out the disagreement, something about religious falsehoods being mixed with real knowledge.
Catching the nearest raised walkway, they ascended into the village proper. One of the Leaffolk who had been on guard duty at the hit recognized Willow greeted her warmly, and revealed that their god was at the central canton. As none of them knew the way, and Horst was a Horn Tribesman, he had his sister guide them. She bounced along, carrying a thurible filled with a smoky-sweet scent, waving it as she went.
A brilliant structure of carven wood greeted them, a round platform held aloft by the mighty trees around them. Large tapestries were stretched over it to catch the sun. They seemed to depict the story of a one-armed boy descending from above the trees on a cloud of stars. One tapestry depicted spriggans healing the boy, with the next showing a long history of the boy and the spriggans returning favor after favor to each other.
At the center stood the Leaf God over his people, who were tending to a long lone of spriggans from other tribes. The sick, the weary and the curious formed lines that went down other gantries and around the trees. Leaf paced back and forth with the Pebble God in tow, guiding the efforts.
Upon seeing Willow, Pebble came running, and threw her arms around her waist.
"Willow!" exulted Pebble, in better health, though still not all there, "Leaf says you have a plan that will save us."
"I said she was going to help me with a plan to take the fight to Vengeance," corrected Leaf, gently adjusting one of his tending acolytes with his staff. "Good to see you, Willow, how was the run?"
His masked face turned just so to Manon.
"You're multiplying by the hour, I see."
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
“Hey hey~! Howdy, scout!” Willow ruffled Pebble’s hair as the young girl hugged her. Her grin softened slightly as it tinged with a hint of pain as she recalled the conversation with Eryl. As she parted from the hug, Willow shifted to address Leaf as her hand lifted from Pebble’s hair to rub the back of her own neck.
“My run? It was, ah, punctuated. Had another run in with your friend, Horn. And it got me thinking about some changes to the plan. Instead of some grand march that leaves us exposed against a superior force, I want you and the spriggans to fortify this position while me and a small team strike at Vengeance when her forces are drawn out. You and the others can fight with a stronger advantage, and I’ll not need to fight through a hoard before fighting the Big Bad. There’s a bit more to it, but that’s the jist; I’ll probably elaborate a bit more at the moot. Whimsy and whatnot.”
“My run? It was, ah, punctuated. Had another run in with your friend, Horn. And it got me thinking about some changes to the plan. Instead of some grand march that leaves us exposed against a superior force, I want you and the spriggans to fortify this position while me and a small team strike at Vengeance when her forces are drawn out. You and the others can fight with a stronger advantage, and I’ll not need to fight through a hoard before fighting the Big Bad. There’s a bit more to it, but that’s the jist; I’ll probably elaborate a bit more at the moot. Whimsy and whatnot.”
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
"That's suicide."
The waning sun over the moot made the world feel that much more lonely as Willow's words were picked apart by the forest's gods and their spriggans. The Wind God, who had echoed the Leaf God's words at the canton, stood to make her case known.
"Who could agree to such a thing," she shouted, pointing at the Leaf God, "The Scholar, the Academic. How can you be so certainly wasteful of someone's life?"
"Willow has chosen this of her own accord," answered the Leaf God, with a sense of grim acceptance that made him sound like the older version of himself, "on our beha--!"
"I don't remember asking to be saved!" snapped the Lake God, slapping his hand to his knee to a fierce agreement. His spriggans repeated the motion, harrumphing and rattling.
When the moot had opened, the very idea of Willow representing herself was met with loud disapproval. Few seemed to trust the stranger flanked by a three-eyed witch, a clown, and smallkin not native to the forest. So, the Leaf God opened the proceedings with more routine matters, until pressing the issue himself. Ghyslain offered the wide and luxurious seat he had crafted for the victory day for Willow to sit in.
"We are prisoners! Don't you see? Vengeance has trapped us here," argued Leaf.
"You are the only one who thinks that!" returned the Hill God, whose point was not as powerfully echoed as the previous.
The Horn God crossed her arms, standing above all the others, not to prove a point, but because all the chairs for the other gods were too small for her. Her tribe stood with her, in solidarity, equally as silent as their god.
"Have any of you have left the forest?" Leaf protested.
"Only the Laughing God has left," the Moss God made herself known, "and we all know how that turned out. They are a tortured spirit, haunting us with their own mistakes."
A few bitter mutterings assented to the mention of the Laughing God.
"The Laughing God isn't real, damn it!" roared Leaf, shaking over the stump that served as the podium, "No one can even describe the Laughing God, it's a lie--..."
Willow, from her spot a few feet back, could see a rock going for Leaf's head.
The waning sun over the moot made the world feel that much more lonely as Willow's words were picked apart by the forest's gods and their spriggans. The Wind God, who had echoed the Leaf God's words at the canton, stood to make her case known.
"Who could agree to such a thing," she shouted, pointing at the Leaf God, "The Scholar, the Academic. How can you be so certainly wasteful of someone's life?"
"Willow has chosen this of her own accord," answered the Leaf God, with a sense of grim acceptance that made him sound like the older version of himself, "on our beha--!"
"I don't remember asking to be saved!" snapped the Lake God, slapping his hand to his knee to a fierce agreement. His spriggans repeated the motion, harrumphing and rattling.
When the moot had opened, the very idea of Willow representing herself was met with loud disapproval. Few seemed to trust the stranger flanked by a three-eyed witch, a clown, and smallkin not native to the forest. So, the Leaf God opened the proceedings with more routine matters, until pressing the issue himself. Ghyslain offered the wide and luxurious seat he had crafted for the victory day for Willow to sit in.
"We are prisoners! Don't you see? Vengeance has trapped us here," argued Leaf.
"You are the only one who thinks that!" returned the Hill God, whose point was not as powerfully echoed as the previous.
The Horn God crossed her arms, standing above all the others, not to prove a point, but because all the chairs for the other gods were too small for her. Her tribe stood with her, in solidarity, equally as silent as their god.
"Have any of you have left the forest?" Leaf protested.
"Only the Laughing God has left," the Moss God made herself known, "and we all know how that turned out. They are a tortured spirit, haunting us with their own mistakes."
A few bitter mutterings assented to the mention of the Laughing God.
"The Laughing God isn't real, damn it!" roared Leaf, shaking over the stump that served as the podium, "No one can even describe the Laughing God, it's a lie--..."
Willow, from her spot a few feet back, could see a rock going for Leaf's head.
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
With the smooth motions of burning Pewter, Willow stood and moved in front of Leaf to intercept the rock with an outstretched arm. She held the rock as though it were evidence as she looked around the gathering, and her gaze was withering as she stared down the malcontents. To be fair, this was going about as well as she’d been led to expect, but physical violence was a good spot to draw the line.
“Frogs!” Willow exclaimed her accusation, shaking the rock before tossing it to the side. “The whole lot of you are frogs in hot water. Ya’ll are fine with the situation because y’ve gotten comfortable with it, so much so that ya don’t care that it is cooking you regardless. Just last night I saved Pebbles from wraiths. Ya’ll don’t have peace with Vengeance. She consumes and whittles away at this world until it resets and rebuilds, and that isn’t gonna stop until she is stopped.”
She looked over to Lake.
“I’m doing this regardless of what you want, because this is bigger than any one of you,” her tone was defiant and stern as she gestured to her companions. “I’m asking you lot to do literally what you’ve always done; sit on your hands here in the forest while the world continues moving. If I fail, then the world resets and nothing has changed except for a little bit of effort on ya’ll’s part.”
“Frogs!” Willow exclaimed her accusation, shaking the rock before tossing it to the side. “The whole lot of you are frogs in hot water. Ya’ll are fine with the situation because y’ve gotten comfortable with it, so much so that ya don’t care that it is cooking you regardless. Just last night I saved Pebbles from wraiths. Ya’ll don’t have peace with Vengeance. She consumes and whittles away at this world until it resets and rebuilds, and that isn’t gonna stop until she is stopped.”
She looked over to Lake.
“I’m doing this regardless of what you want, because this is bigger than any one of you,” her tone was defiant and stern as she gestured to her companions. “I’m asking you lot to do literally what you’ve always done; sit on your hands here in the forest while the world continues moving. If I fail, then the world resets and nothing has changed except for a little bit of effort on ya’ll’s part.”
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
The rock had seemed to come from one of the Hill Tribe, but their god was scolding them now, especially as the disdain of nearby gods was on him. The Leaf God was shaking either in fear or in anger, it was hard to tell which. Everyone else shifted uncomfortably, particularly at Willow's frog analogy.
"You're asking us to commit our spriggans to a battle," objected the Lake God, sneering at Willow's confidence, "We're not watching a sunset in the evening, we're throwing precious lives away on a theory."
"What if she's right?" came the voice of the Mud God, the first sound of dissent, "The Leaf God has documented the loss of our memories."
"That is still only his scrivenings," rose the Sky God, flowing over the rope lining tracing the clearing in airy robes, "few have reviewed his work."
"We should hear the account from the Pebble God."
The moot ebbed into silence at the words of the Horn God, before flowing into concerned murmurs. Pebbles was at the head of everything, in her own chair, opposite of the clearing where the speakers stood. Since the proceedings began, she maintained that same vacant, lost expression.
"The Pebble God? You can't be serious--" the Lake God ducked as a chair shattered over him against a mighty oaken bough.
"I am sick of chairs too small for me, doors too short for me, paths too narrow, walkways too weak to support me," growled the Horn God, causing the Wind God to inch away from her, "My patience is at its limit, and you will listen to the Pebble God's words."
Pebbles searched for Leaf and Willow for assurance before stepping forward with no tribe to support her. She stared into the verdant green ahead of her instead of the crowds.
"I'm alone," choked Pebbles, as if the reality only just then struck her, "my tribe is gone. If Willow hadn't been there, the shadows... They clawed away everything. All but three. They would have got me too."
She hugged herself, as she began sobbing, before heaving a breath, "I want my mama."
In another breath between the tears she coughed up a few more words.
"I don't want to be brave anymore."
"You're asking us to commit our spriggans to a battle," objected the Lake God, sneering at Willow's confidence, "We're not watching a sunset in the evening, we're throwing precious lives away on a theory."
"What if she's right?" came the voice of the Mud God, the first sound of dissent, "The Leaf God has documented the loss of our memories."
"That is still only his scrivenings," rose the Sky God, flowing over the rope lining tracing the clearing in airy robes, "few have reviewed his work."
"We should hear the account from the Pebble God."
The moot ebbed into silence at the words of the Horn God, before flowing into concerned murmurs. Pebbles was at the head of everything, in her own chair, opposite of the clearing where the speakers stood. Since the proceedings began, she maintained that same vacant, lost expression.
"The Pebble God? You can't be serious--" the Lake God ducked as a chair shattered over him against a mighty oaken bough.
"I am sick of chairs too small for me, doors too short for me, paths too narrow, walkways too weak to support me," growled the Horn God, causing the Wind God to inch away from her, "My patience is at its limit, and you will listen to the Pebble God's words."
Pebbles searched for Leaf and Willow for assurance before stepping forward with no tribe to support her. She stared into the verdant green ahead of her instead of the crowds.
"I'm alone," choked Pebbles, as if the reality only just then struck her, "my tribe is gone. If Willow hadn't been there, the shadows... They clawed away everything. All but three. They would have got me too."
She hugged herself, as she began sobbing, before heaving a breath, "I want my mama."
In another breath between the tears she coughed up a few more words.
"I don't want to be brave anymore."