Spritelings Chapter 01

No one else is speaking, no doubt overcome with awe. With humility, Nemma must take the lead.

"More birds?" she asks. "No shadows. Don't come when you squawk. Who you call to?"

Go home.

No home. Only this. Only go forward.

Even though the bird has been uttering words all this time in the hopes of a response, it is nonetheless stunned for a few seconds upon hearing one.

"I am Cinder, one of the people, the one of us who walks forward and sings of what it sees to them. And what call do you respond to? And why are you bugs venturing onto our shore, let alone into our hills? Do you not feel content with your woods and forests of your shore?"

On long legs, Smaugalir stalks over to the strange bird talking to Nemma.

"If you're one of the people, which people? Who awakened you? What's happening with your people right now or at your place?"

The bird turns its head towards the other Spriteling. "Our people. The people. People of the beak. Or do we have to introduce ourselves as Kiwis in our own land, now that bugs are encroaching on it?

And what nonsense questions are these? It is springtime, so of course we are preparing to resume going about our lives, now that everything is thawing and reviving."

Smaugalir's head turns sideways, a kind of puzzled gesture.

"If these questions are nonsense for you, making no sense, then they are of no concern to you, which is good, I think. Good for both sides, as is any kind of - communication, I think.

So, Cinder of the people, now that you are awake - what do you do about mushrooms? Are they your food, do you uproot them as they interfere with your kind of life?

Or, if any of this doesn't meet your experience, do you know of any creatures here moving southwards? Or are these questions making no sense to you, too?"

Smaugalir's thoughts deviate quickly to more pressing topics, as music and other sounds, but they try to stay on this topic at least for now.

The bird first stares at Smaugalir in confusion, but then tries to respond.

"Mushrooms are food, but we are no brutes, we only dig up what is safe to dig up without disrupting the mushroom meshes for the next growth season.

Creatures moving southwards? What kind of creatures? I moved south to look around, after all, but you you are creatures moving northwest, I believe."

With another spriteling on the bird, Smaugalir can relax and follows their thoughts on the actual couing through her mind, something about this pactch of land, this people here.

When they begin to play this melody, they can listen to the sound, follow the dissonances that may arise.

Squawk squawk squawk. It's bad enough when birds do it, but when the bugs talk like that it's just unnatural. Mara's going to sit this one out unless it all goes downhill.

Bigs curls up next to Mara. Bigs may not understand anything that's being said, but at least they're talking and not fighting. Hopefully Nemma is able to talk calmly with these two bird fellows.

Cinder is surprised to meet another speaking bird. "Well met. Do I know you? I don't think I've ever seen you before. Who are you, and where from?

And what sorts of emissaries are you all then?"

The captive bird glances at Nemma, then at Lily. "Right now I'm encountering a concerning group of unusual-looking emissaries, and I'd appreciate assistance with wiggling out of these bindings."

The tone is deadpan and subtly unhappy.

There has been significantly less cheering and celebrating than Nemma expected. Reluctantly, she begins eating her webbing. At least the pointy spear is no longer in the birds.... wings? Talons?

Bird never said who they were calling to. Instead, changed the subject.

Nemma ceases chewing, looks around with alarm. More creatures, one at least that can hold tools, must be nearby.

"First tell, then free. What holds spear??? Where is it hiding???"

Seeing the arthropod begin chewing on the ropes at first makes the bird worried, but then merely puzzled. It ponders the question for a few moments, trying to figure out just what is being asked.

"I am Cinder, of the people of the beak, spear-and-sling-wielders of these hills. You surely came from the southeast, but the path northwest is into our land, and we are many, and you should think twice before attacking one, for we are many, both hidden and overt, in these hills."

Disturbed in their music-making, Smaugalier looks indignantly at the spear and then take it in a hind claw, firmly and securely, so that it cannot be used easily or quickly.

Then they return their attention to the dissonances here.

Cinder gazes into Lily's eyes. "I am good at being a guide, and it would be good to keep an eye on you all instead of letting you wander."