Skill: Herbalist [1/5]

aw! Dracarys may be nearby if he decided to stick around!

---

The land holds secrets—Dracarys's words rang clear in her mind. What sort of secrets? A breath unfurled from her lips. She could recall the dream from days prior, with the quiet murmurs of a stranger. 'Investigate the broken edge,' it'd spoken, in a warped tongue she'd never heard before. 'It is the hunger.'

Between her jaws, she held herbs—poppy, gentian, lupine, lavender. Medicines for some sort of contingency. Yet... in her heart, she doubted anything would ever happen. The woodlands here were silent. Eerily so.

The bundle was gingerly placed against a stone as she shifted her focus towards the ground. 'Investigate the broken edge.' Whatever could that mean? In the distance, she could hear the gentle rumble of an undulating coast. Could that be the edge they spoke of?

Her tail coiled against her body, she sauntered towards the treeline. Eyes fell upon the ocean—there was an island, not a long way off from the shore. Her head canted in curiosity. Where land meets the sea could well be an edge—yet, how could that be broken?

The Forest Maiden shifted once again, turning back towards the small pile of foliage she'd placed upon a boulder.

Far accustomed to arduous journeys, Rhadamanthus carved a path from the seaside he'd been spit out onto. With the slowly setting sun as his guide, he follows it westward. Getting familiar with this new...shape has come with its learning curves; he was much faster, and yet, he feels like a newborn fawn.

Uncoordinated, unfamiliar. He preservers, as this hardly the most difficult trial he's faced. Eyes keener and sharper than when he was man, they scour. Searching. He's seen no spires or castles, not longhouses or bonfire smoke creeping above the treeline. Though, he supposed this was normal.

His sword would be helpful, as would hands with thumbs...but there is no time to mull over this drastic change. He needs to find others. And perhaps find a new home, if he wouldn't be returning to Ararnir.

The faintest, sweetest of scents allure him in a manner unfamiliar, but enticing. It guides him closer and further through the tundra wild lands that bittersweetly remind him of home, until there's a movement on the horizon that veers his path.

A woman. Soft in color, even softer in shape. Rhadamanthus' footsteps are heavy through the snow as he approaches. Calmly, incase the woman would frighten at an image certainly not man, he comes closer. With a respectful birth between them, his gravelly voice rises above the gently howl of winds.

Good morning. Paired with a crooked, half-smile that still feels foreign, Would you happen to know where we are?

Skill: Herbalist[2/5]

---

Her nose was hovering over the plants when the voice called, rugged in timbre, soft in tone. Siru raised her head, twisting an ear towards him. Good day to you, too, sir, she returned the greeting, her feathery tail sweeping against the ground as she turned to face him properly.

Another wanderer, she assumed—one much like herself. Having all familiarity ousted from their grasp, somehow ending up here, as though summoned by an unforeseen force. I'm afraid I know very little about these lands, she spoke with an apologetic tinge to her quiet lilt. I've been trying to learn more of it, myself—yet, it appears that these forests hold their secrets close. Her head rose towards the canopy, where the leaves were susurrating overhead.

The she-wolf's haunches lowered and settled against the frost-laden undergrowth. All of the wolves she'd met thus far (which was only 3, including herself) had all arrived under the same circumstances—rather, the lack thereof. Life had been normal until that strange day, when the currents swept her from her slumber before heaving her onto the shore.

I'd been told that the lands harbor secrets, she continued, partially to herself. I want to discover them. She gingerly laid a paw over her collection, inwardly identifying each species for the nth time.

The woman is kind, as is the gentle lilt of her voice. There's a tug in the darkest corners of his mind—it reminds him of a woman with a blurred face, one he surely knew as a man. But as a beast, it was nothing but a whisper of a memory, perhaps a sorrowful tug at a heartstring.

Aye, I'm afraid we're in the same boat then. He rumbled. Not content, though he figured nothing would sate his ailment. Not soon, anyway, and not by another wayward soul. His eyes flicker to the wall of snow-laden pines that line the clearing, a gentle but deep sound of curiosity hummed from vocal cords still raw.

Secrets. It seems like this land holds plenty. Nothing is without their secrets, it seems. Rhadamanthus conceded as he, too, sat within the cradle of snow. She wished to unveil them. A curious thing, she is, with an appetite for the unknown and skills in medicine, judging by the bundle of herbs at her feet.

You are a cleric? He asks. Then a pause, as he realizes that's a rather...human verbiage. One she might not understand. A healer, I mean. Forgive me. It's been...an odd past few days. Odd was an understatement, surely, but he was hardly the type to divulge his worries upon a stranger.

His eyes are kind. He does not leer, but looks upon her with calmness he shouldn't quite feel in his predicament. With a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, he bows his head just the slightest.

Forgive my lack of manners—I am Rhadamanthus. Typically, a title would follow...but titles have no use here.

And he is no longer a king.

Skill: Herbalist [3/5]

---

A quiet chuff of amusement left the Maiden's lips. Medic, Cleric, Healer... all are things I have been called, yes. She glanced up at him. Was there an error in his dictions? She canted her head slightly.

Rhadamanthus. The name rolled off her tongue in near silence, her lips curling, committing the title to memory. I am... Siru. She returned—a name she'd adopted on a whim, for 'Mielikki' was a title reserved for a Goddess.

This was not Kalevala. She was no longer Mielikki.

For a moment, her breath stuttered; she faced a bizarre state of affairs... to say the least. Bound to this mortal vessel, bedecked with fur of lilac and eyes of muted gray. A tongue rasped over her nose—an action so natural now in the body of a beast... yet, she could not fathom doing so deliberately.

She sucked in a breath and rose to her feet once again. You don't need to apologize for anything, she began. It's been odd... for everyone, I imagine. She halted by the treeline, facing the westward ocean. That may as well be the only thing I'm certain about, when it comes to this place. She turned to look at Rhadamanthus as he sat along the snowbank. ...it's strange here.

Was it selfish to feel a sliver of relief knowing he wasn't alone in this strange place, under stranger circumstance? A part of him feels for the woman—it sounds as if she'd be torn away from a different life and swept here to lead another. And so he cannot help but wonder if that's how everyone must have arrived here.

Lost, confused, a part of themselves forever lost in a land they couldn't return to.

He must try not to think about it. At least, not while in such calm company. Truth be told, he wasn't quite sure how beasts would react to strangers. Humans are fickle, yes, but canids fall to more primal inclinations. It is a relief, that his presence hadn't incited an unsavory situation.

There is something about how his name sounds on her tongue that tugs at another heartstring. Another whispered memory, of a woman he does not know, calling upon him in a similar softness. It...unsettles him, though he doesn't let it show.

Instead, he greets her with a smile warmer than the rest. Well met, Siru. I have to admit—I am relieved to have run into pleasant company. I...cannot remember the last time I'd done so. This is followed by a pensive, brief expression. He can't remember much of anything.

As if all his memories wait for him in Ysrafel. As if a larger part of his soul still haunts the walls of Ararnir.

He follows her gaze. It is, isn't it? Almost like an itch you can't quite scratch, or something dancing along the edges of your vision. He exhales a small, misty sigh. Did you wake here, too? Or had she simply wandered?

Skill: —[3/5]

---

His melancholy words drew a frown along her lips. Well, in that case, I'm glad you've found me to be good company, she nodded. Siru didn't know what it was that he'd experienced in his past life—nor would she ask, lest she elicited some unwanted memory. Yet the feeling was kindled still, the desire to comfort him, to offer some solace during such an odd time.

For a period, she remained pensive. Silent, eyes set on the horizon still, her reverie was interrupted only by the exhalation that unfolded from his lips and the inquiry which followed. I had, she spoke distantly. It felt like a century had passed since she first washed ashore here. About a day's walk westward. I'd awakened in a lake. A dry chuckle fell from her lips. I thought I'd been waterboarded. Perhaps amusing in hindsight, yet it'd been horrifying at the time; to be entrapped in the maws of a vortex with no way out, no matter how much she tried.

Shaking off the thoughts, she turned once again to face Rhadamanthus, sucking in a quiet breath. No matter. I wasn't harmed by any means, she remarked. That's enough for me.

Have you ventured east from here, yet? She tilted her head with curiosity. That's where I was intending to go next—if nothing is interesting around here, at least. She spoke with a small grin.

Ah, it seems we're more alike than I'd thought. He mused humorlessly. The world hadn't been kind to either of them—she too had been spit out of the jaws of the depths into a land unknown. I was brought to the coast by the sea. I awoke on the sand, in a body that...isn't my own. You might think me mad for it.

He could hardly blame her, if she did assume his mind had slipped into madness. It was a precarious situation he himself is still struggling to grasp. The world had been turned upside down and knocked side-ways; where once stood a proud man now stands a beast.

With a kind smile and a nod, he says, It's a blessing you are unscathed, Siru. It's...difficult enough to have awaken here. It would've been disastrous to do so injured. With a roll of broad shoulders, he cast his eyes eastward. I have, yes. There wasn't much but sand and wave. I followed the set of the sun, and it's lead me to you. He hummed.

If you wouldn't mind, we could travel together? And try to unravel these secrets so seem so fond of. Two eyes and ears are better than one. And truthfully, the company wouldn't hurt. Perhaps together they could piece together the missing pieces they both seem to yearn for.

Skill:—[3/5]

---

It was nearly amusing how similar their circumstances turned out to be. I am grateful to be of good health, she agreed, gaze drifting in tandem with his towards the dawn-lit sky. Her tail slowly swept by her feet, brushing against the soft curve of her hocks.

'I awoke on the sand, in a body that...isn't my own...' The goddess's breath hitched, her head canting down towards the ground with a subtle jerk. Another resemblance in their situation—yet... this man hadn't fallen from godhood. Had he? Muted eyes cast a short glance towards the ebony figure beside her. Perhaps he was right; maybe they truly were far more alike than imaginable.

Rhadamanthus tore her from a short reverie with the offer of company—the stupefied daze melted from her mien, replaced instead with the same look of guarded intrigue from moments prior. That would be wonderful, Siru spoke softly, her voice distant, reverent. The silence here. It feels... too loud. Her lips thinned. Perhaps its your turn to think I'm the mad one here. A breathy laugh slipped through her lips, heat gathering against her cheeks with embarrassment.

Rune Discovery: Partial Success! — +5 modifier towards your next search

---

Madness has its own brand of clarity. There between the waves of insanity lurked a startling clean gasp of air. It tastes like heaven but with the burn in your lungs as you struggle to get enough and hold it. Just hold it.

The sound of the woods was almost musical, a twinkling sort of melodious as the wind sweep the ice laden branches of the Shiverwood, perhaps to try and ward off the dangers of the plague that has been wrought upon the whole of Mythris. Or maybe, at least here, to try and contain something. The song playing on the wind becomes a pattern, growing louder in the distant as if to guide you.

- do you follow the path toward the Rimefeather Edge, further away from the danger on the western shore? Or do you brave the risk that lay to the west?