You Wash Your Hands, You Come Home Clean...

Ashiel really wasn't sure about this but Griff was excited so that had to count for something. The pair had journeyed northward to the eastern portion of Boreas to do some scouting. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Ashiel wasn't a scout, he was an oracle. This was his mothers job but he'd found himself needing to get outside of Risen to clear his head. He really didn't understand what his job entailed when he wasn't in the grips of a vision and lately he'd been dealing with self-doubt. Was he really one to be interpreting and carrying on his family's legacy? He growled, again wishing his mother would do more on that front.

Ashiel moved carefully through the snow covered ground as he headed toward the delta. In his jaws was a piece of cured hide folded at the corners. A number of odds and ends rested within it. Griff wanted to teach him how to make a quill. There was also items for ink and an inkwell but Ashiel really doubted he had the delicacy to handle such an item. Perhaps they could make something for Malleus and his companion as a gift. Ashiel much preferred cave painting. He had brought along a few other items for making jewelry as well. Perhaps he could make something for Mæva.

Finding a nice spot near the delta that was still dry and lush with amber grasses, he nestled down and laid down his burden.  Stretching his jaws he turned to his winged companion who landed gracefully near him. "Alright, what shall we try first?"

"Talk"

Cold water was the most efficient thief of heat the siren knew. It always takes what it does not need. The river at her paws would be just as icy when she had crossed as before, yet her blood will be almost frozen in her veins. Before even a toe is submerged, her isabelline-white skin turns rough with goosebumps, pointless as they might be. The water surges around her skin, rising up her limbs on one side, making tiny eddies on the other. The weight of the water was almost enough to topple the siren, the current enough to take her far down stream. What worries her more was that at this low temperature her muscles would simply give up. Crossing in such cold water was a compromise: fast enough not become hypothermic and steady enough not to fall, yet she had to do it. The cleansing ritual needs to be done at the beginning of winter, when temperatures are low, in this particular area and case. Where she came from they would usually proceed with the ritual in the Oasis, in the middle of the Desert, and always at night when temperatures go below the freezing point. But this will have to do for now. Water of all life and well-being. melodious tones escaped the vampiric succubus pretty maw, closing her optics as she caster her prayers for her Gods. I am using water to wash myself of the filth, to purify myself and to live; I am here to thank you for such gracious gift. dulcet syllables continued to be poured from her jaws, each one wrapped in a exotic foreign accent; heavy on her tongue as it was for some ears. Speech

You Wash Your Hands, You Come Home Clean...

Griff eyed the items they'd brought and Ashiel grinned with amusement at the deep concentration written across the birds face. "I like the idea of a quill but I think the process needs more thought. I'm not sure if a wolf could truly use such a thing nor do I think I have the delicacy to." Ashiel nodded. "I thought about that. Actually, I was thinking we could gift it to Malleus. His companion would have the capability to use such a device to great effect with some practice." The bird considered this for a moment, with a note of jealousy at the primate's adept fingers, but ultimately shook his head. "It would rely much on images unless you have a system of language in mind."

Ashiel frowned. He had been thinking on ways for them to keep records of their families history. There were so many factors that could tarnish an oral tradition. For one, someone needed to be around to tell it and for another it had to be free of embellishments. A speaker could alter it whenever at their leisure and that didn't sit well with him. He'd been wanting to speak with his mother for ages about more of their legends but she was tricksome and difficult to pin down. "Let's try it. We have nothing to lose from creating something new other than to know whether or not it is worth expanding on in the future. I'll think on a form of writing. My mother has spoken to me of stones with strange writing upon them. I think we can infer something from that."

Griff nodded. "Alright, I'll need to help you with this. Take one of the quills and place it gently, but firmly between your paws. See how the shaft is hollow? Take the tip and-"

The bird paused at the sound of movement in the water. Ashiel's ears flicked forward and he peered out about the grasses. The sound was caused by something large and he wondered what poor creature had decided to forge through the winter waters. A familiar form was speaking in ritualistic fashion from the freezing water. Nephthys. He recognized the woman from an earlier meeting and remembered that she was the child of another pantheon of gods. Grinning he moved to the waters edge. "I thought I recognized those melodious tones. Greetings, Nephthys, I hope I am not interrupting."

"Talk"

It really was such a lovely day to be out and about however she was here on business not pleasure, with each passing season a cleansing must be made no matter the temperature of the water, alas to say it was harder during Autumn and Winter but sacrifices had to be made. In truth, the femme fatale's activities were anything but innocent, a cleansing meant a cleaning ritual, for purification purposes from the filth of the mortal world, for the unclean and their blemishes. The babe scented him too late, he already spoke before her nostrils caught on the cologne that drifted off of the male. It was familiar and oh, so very sweet. Her slow responses must be due to the ice cold water that numb her senses. The bronze Goddess waited a few more seconds before she slowly turned around and gave the male her face. Better he remember it, and it seems that he did, who knows, it might be the last one he sees. That idea brought out darker ones, but she had to refrain not matter how badly she wanted to spill him. The babe knows that the consequences of acting too soon would not be good. The lady like to think that she was just gracing the male with her presence. Dried up like the hottest of deserts, she was the water mirage. Needed to retain some sort of sanity, keep the desires alive. Also a figment of the mind, not actually there but so real you could almost taste it. Water was needed to live, as she felt she was needed in some form or another to remain where she was. Relief would be provided to her, seeing that it has been so long since her departure but he was still here. The smell of the pack was clinging strongly on this one, far different from last one, perhaps a new pack? Ashiel. she purred, frozen vocals offered place for her canines to chatter. And so the story was unfolding. She would have to play her role with great conviction if she was to get a standing ovation yet she was pleasantly surprised of their encounter. We seem to always meet during these times. melodious vocals were wrapped in a thick arabic accent as her regalia dipper in order to point at the waters and her cleansing rituals. You look as handsome as ever, darling. fiery orange gaze went over his frame, muscles ripping, registering each hair thread and movement the male had to offer just as Alphonse was watching from the shadows. It was not his place to interupt a meeting such as this and he was certainly his Mistress will be handle the male herself if trouble arouse. He shall only move when he is summoned. Speech

You Wash Your Hands, You Come Home Clean...

Nephthys turned slowly to face him and he watched the water cling to her coat, curious as to what she was doing standing in such cold water. A test of endurance? Cold addling one's brain? Or had he some how managed to interrupt her in the middle of another ritual? He he had to guess he'd say the later. Either way she didn't seem distressed so there was no need to go rescuing said damsel. His right ear twitched at the clicking noises coming from Griff. He could tell the bird was irritated at being interrupted.

"Ahem, your lesson, Ashiel. Please focus on the task at hand instead of indulging in the sight of some would-be siren," Griff whispered as best as a bird could. Ashiel ignored the bird, shifting his weight effortlessly as he reached out his left hind leg to push his companion back. He'd return to the lesson soon enough. It was rare he got to socialize outside of the family these days. He at least wanted to know what she was up to.

We seem to always meet during these times. You look as handsome as ever, darling.

He nodded, his crown dipping in a graceful arc. "Yes, we do seem to keep interrupting each other in the midst of our respective rituals." She complimented him and he turned his head in a mocking coy gesture, like a maiden suddenly shying from a compliment. "And you are still as wreathed in mystery and allure." The compliment rolled easily off his tongue. He wasn't normally like this but there was something about it that was almost like a game.

"Would you care to join me up on the shore? I'm working on a little item if you'd like some company after you complete your ritual."

"Talk"

The cold moves in only to meet the warmth of the autumn mistress blood, her defence against such ice. She felt it wash over her isabelline-white skin, again and again, only to be met by the beat of her heart, again and again. There was one more thing in order for her ritual to be complete and that was for her to be completely emerged in the purification of the water.  Even more so than last year. she would offer her sultry purrs, appearing more of a feline than lupine in timbre but oh well, she had matured over the year that passed them. Time hold no candle to her beauty and like wine, she became finer with years. I would be honored to join you, love. she shifted her weight and it took only a moment for her to vanish underneath the water. Cold grasping at her very being, stinging like ice on her slender frame. The cold that had seemed mild at first now numbed her face and extremities. What residual heat she had absorbed on shore was gone, it had been her buffer, but unwittingly she had squandered it believing his thick coat equal to the task of preserving her body heat. It was only for a moment though and the autumn babe resurfaced upon the water line and moved her frame towards him, towards the shore. Upon reaching it she shook her pelt from the droplets that hang upon her earthen pelt, clinging to her reptilian bodice and cascading in spidery tendrils.  What is it that you are doing? her eyebrow arched in question as she closed the distance between them, gaving small tremors as each teacup paw moved in front of the other. Speech

You Wash Your Hands, You Come Home Clean...

She disappeared into the water's embrace as Ashiel settled along the bank. He wasn't worried. There was no reason to think she was in any danger and soon she surfaced. Griff explained how he'd cured the feather in hot sand. He instructed Ashiel how to hold the feather in his paws which he did carefully and tightly. Griff leaned over and snipped off the end of the feather where it would attach to the bird. It was a unique snip with a slight curve. As Nephthys moved to join him on the shore Griff worked to make a small slit in the part left over from the earlier snip.

"Making what Griff here calls a quill. Supposedly if you make some sort of dye you can use this to make symbols that mean things. A way to record stories and tales. Of course I don't have a system of symbols yet." The bird turned his brilliant orange eyes on the woman and nodded eagerly. "I'm sure you've seen some stones around that have strange markings on them? Perhaps such markings in caves?" Ashiel turned his gaze to Thys once more. "Does your family have such a system?" He doubted he was the first wolf to ever stare at human relics and wonder what possibilities might lay there for his own kind.

Griff continued to work on the feather as Ashiel held it and angled it as the bird needed. Griff scraped off a little extra on each side to for a nice pen nib. Ashiel grinned. This was coming along well. Now he needed to find something a bit more permanent to write with. He'd been curious about using blood, entranced as he was by the color, but he didn't know that it would last.

"Talk"

Fiery orange optics would silently glance at the movements of the feather, of his paw as the companion digilently taught Ashiel. Her auditory system would flicker at the masculine baritone , gentle words explaining carefully each and every single detail, as her gaze would move from the quill towards the male once again. I have seen a system, in my homeland, she shifted her weight, shivering ever so sightly due to the cold water damping her fur, dripping into droplets, cascading down silk tendrils, ...they used to call it hieroglyphs however, unfortunately, I did not remained long enough to learn it. vampiric, sultry tones fell into melancholy by the end of her sentence. The memories of her homeland, of Egypt, were filled with biterness ever since their exile however the little ones that she has she managed to keep them close to her heart and away from the prying eyes of others. They would use wood to write upon and flowers crushed with water to paint with. As of what they meant, I could not tell you. she offered a comforting sigh as she continued to watch the movements of the companion, bewitchd by the quill and by the mastery in which it was all coming together. Perhaps there was a lesosng to be learnt here and she would make sure to make a mental note of it, registering the elements she witnessed and locking them within the palace of her mind. Speech

You Wash Your Hands, You Come Home Clean...

Sunlight began to filter through the clouds and he closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy the warmth on his back before his green eyes turned back to Nephthys. She had seen a system of writing in her own home land but she did not know it. "Your homeland sounds fascinating. Is it far from here?" Not that he would likely have time to visit. Still, he was curious about the lands of the world and amazed at just how vast the world seemed to be.

Griff gestured for Ashiel to let go and he took the feather up gently in his beak then held it in one of his talons as he turned it and examined the work. Nodding the bird turned to Ashiel. "I think its finished, now we need to figure out the ink and surface situation."

Ashiel smiled and nodded as Nephthys continued. Stating that the wolves of her homeland would write upon flowers crushed with water. "That is fascinating. One of the things we wish to figure out is what to write on though I believe Griff has a surface in mind." The bird nodded. "I think we can try writing on treated hide but we'll need to see. Anyway we probably should be going. Pyralis will be wondering what is taking us so long."

"Talk"

She would watch the male and nod briefly, It is. One would have to travel far seasons to reach it. her tones were even and soft, parting her lips in order to leave place for foreign accents to wrap themselves around each and every word; exotic and foreign. The thing about the wolrd was that it was too vast and fascinating, one life would not be enough to explore everything that it had to hold and more often than not , this life tends to push you until you break just to see if you can put yourself back together. And when would you have time in order to discover all its wonders? But one’s life was sacred. It was lived as a secret, and told as a lie. Sure, some shared bits and pieces of what happens throughout their days, or within theirs nights,but that’s all. That’s all that was shared. That being a simple act of human nature, you could know a person all their life and still not know nothing about them, just as she was sure she did not even graze the surface of Ashiel's. It is time for me to take my leave as well, love. a petite smile tugged at the corners of her full, ebon lips as she dipper her regalia in a small courtesty for the male and his companion. Let us meet again, Ashiel. rosing at her full height, she turned on her heel at that, swaying her hips in a tango as she departed from the scene back to her family with thoughts in mind to encounter the male. exitus Speech