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| Details |
| Author: | Athena |
| Summary: | After Blue Squad ventures into Grim Batol, Oranna meets back up with Thalstan, proving that she's alive and well still. The dwarves discuss their languages, and make a plan for company and learning new things. 1600~ |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Chain: Orastan
Thalstan rests with his back against the tower of Victor's Point, gazing past the Alliance banners to the Twilight spire with a grim expression on his face. He's been sitting here for the past few hours, waiting patiently as a stone-born race can for the return of Blue Squad from their dangerous venture into Grim Batol. He's wearing his Cobalt tabard, his armor is cleaner and tidier than maybe it should be in a warzone, and his dark hair cascades down like a waterfall.
If he sits here too much longer, it's likely the Alliance forces will find some work for him. But for now, he continues to idle, waiting, beneath a bright blue sky incongruous with his stormy brow, to find out if there will be an after.
Oranna's gryphon flaps slowly towards a decently spaced landing zone, the old lion-bird on a timeline of the slow smoothing of water erosion, and Oranna clinging to the gryphon's saddle with her full body like she's been launched from a high-powered rocket.
Befound naps in her harness, paws dangling.
Oranna doesn't look at the ground until she's back on it with both feet, but she picks Thalstan out instantly, awkwardly hopping free of the saddle, and scrambling towards him in a way that could panic a man.
But her open face shows relief, not terror or grief, and there's only a small hesitation, a brief uncertainty, before she opens her arms as she runs to him for a hug.
Thal rises immediately and moves towards her with a speed no one watching him these last few hours is likely to expect. He catches her in his arms, and seems ready to sweep her around in enthusiasm before he realizes she probably wants to keep her feet on the ground.
"Yer back," Thal says, and there's joy in the simple words. He adds in Dwarven, "[Welcome to the afterward, Oranna.]"
The language swap briefly surprises her, but as a person who grew up speaking it more than Common, the shift is as easy as shooting breathing.
She laughs a little, not yet releasing him. "[That sounds a bit final, like I'm near the end,]" she says nervously. And then considers. "[Although, if I'm not a single book, but a series of them, then that's not so bad, and I guess I got at least another one coming out of me. Of - of a-a metaphor, not like, I'm about to just … push one out of my mouth or somewhere.]" That's an image.
"[Maybe the end of a chapter,]" Thal says, resting his head against hers. "[Or one book in a series that will have many adventures ahead. I'll be looking forward to seeing what those adventures might be. You feel solid and well. How was it in there? Are your friends well?]" He pauses, and then adds in Common, "Do ye prefer Dwarven or Common, when it's jus' us dwarves?"
Oranna is visibly caught off guard by the question, but not in a bad way. "It was… a time. Everyone’s… well-ish. They’ll get better now that we’re out. As fer Dwarven or Common. Oh… huh. I dinna know that I've ever thought o' it. I grew up speakin' Dwarven fer most of me young life. I learned Common much later, from my great-aunt Nettie. Past few decades I've grown more accustomed ta it."
She pauses, thinking, and switches to Dwarven. "[I guess Dwarven still feels more comfortable for that. It's like an easier well-worn path, and it's easier to think in. Especially if I'm tired, it's relaxing. Not that Common is stressful… just…newer verbal trails, if that makes any sense at all.]"
"[Different languages as different paths. Yes, I could see that,]" Thal nods. "[I grew up with Dwarven as well, but I started learning Common once there were more foreigners about in Ironforge. As a guard, I liked to be able to help people, give them directions if they're new in town. That's more than the half of what the job was.]"
"Yer great-aunt Nettie preferred Common?" He asks, with genuine curiosity. "She was… a big influence on ye?"
Oranna's face shows that she's shifting gears experimentally. "Oh, aye. I… I came ta a realization at a point that I was never gonna be the… warrior tha' my mother wanted ta make me. An' I… left. My great-aunt Nettie was… different from the rest o' the family. An' she took me in. She had a farm, an'…I needed ta be there for a while. She would go off an trade in the citadel, an' so she'd talk ta all sorts that passed through, an' Common was a necessity. My mother… hadn't made that a priority." She is still resting in this hug, maybe a bit like resting in Dwarven. "[Maybe I do prefer Dwarven when it's just… dwarves. But when I hear Common, it's like my thoughts switch over, and then I even think in Common.]"
Thal is perfectly happy to have this whole conversation in a hug. "[I'm glad you had your great aunt Nettie. It's good to have somebody who accepts who you are, instead of looking towards what they want you to become. I'm… lucky, in that way. My pa looked a little side-eye at the modeling sometimes, but ma always straightened him out on it.]"
He pauses, and deliberately switches, "I've gotten used ta Common, but I always think in Dwarven, m'self."
"Well, then we can jus'… use Dwarven when it's jus' us," Oranna suggests. "[Your ma is a good person. I'm glad you had her. And have her. Present…tense and past. My great-aunt Nettie didn't… talk much. But she had the books, so for a while my written Common was a lot better than speaking, but I got a lot of practice with it later.]"
Befound steps on Oranna's foot. The dwarves have been making people noises long enough. Where is her fish? Her brushing? She demands to speak to the manager.
Oranna startles out of the embrace. "[Oh! I — I'm sorry, I didn't… the — we were — ah. Befound will be… I need to see to her. It was… a whole situation in there. We went into Grim Batol, and there were things in there I… there's shadow cursed dwarves still living in there. Well… some, some are still living. There's… less now. Because… we killed…them,]" Oranna finishes awkwardly.
"[Well, that's good, then?]" Thal says, like he's genuinely not sure on that one. "[Sounds harrowing, though, and maybe… not a great place for a cat to find healthy prey. Care for some company while you see to her? I'm not sure what all that entails, but if I can help…]"
"[Oh, well, and she's not meant to eat on the job. That's… that's actually part of her training, to deliberately uncouple hunting behavior in the field from obtaining food,]" Oranna explains, doing a gesture that might have been meant to show this decoupling and more strongly resembles two geese fighting.
"[Her instincts in hunting tell her to not expend more energy than she needs to, and snow leopards are ambush predators that don't pick fights outside of absolute need for food or when threatened with no way out, so teaching her how to attack with no expectation of that being a meal is — you… you probably didn't need to… know all that,]" Oranna says with an embarrassed flush. "[I have to… do the things myself, because… training but if you wanted to… be company, I'd like you to be… company. With me.]" She clears her throat. Smooth.
Thalstan listens with keen interest as Oranna explains, nodding his head along with her. He does seem a little puzzled by the geese fighting, but then just shrugs that one off.
"[I see, so you want her to use her natural skills, but in a way just to the side of how she naturally would. I would not get in the way — I wouldn't know the first thing on how to train a predator and I wouldn't want to mess anything up.]" Thal smiles down at the very patient (or not) Befound, and then looks back up at Oranna. "But I think I'd like to be… company.]"
Oranna is still red, but at least it's fading, rather than getting worse, and she smiles brilliantly at him. "[All right then, we can just… reverse the process of how we got here, and… I can tell you more about what was in there, and how… we might be all getting better, but I owe Shine learning a sea shanty or two. And why I should check on Bran this week."]
Befound flexes her nails. Oranna. The tummy. It rumbles.
Oranna makes an oof sound, and starts getting out her whistle for her gryphon.
["And… if you did want… to know, I could tell you about the… whole training process for why I have to be the one to feed Befound, and how to decouple the attack and feeding instincts of predators like her…? If you wanted, I won't be upset if you don't, or if it's boring. But if you did want to know the first things… and the second things. You could know as many things as you'd like from what I could tell you. About — about predators.]"
"[I like learning new things,]" Thal says, smiling. "[I'd love to hear about the mission, and sea shanties, and Bran, and how you train Befound. Anything you'd like to share with me, Oranna."]
He can see the question on her face first, in a different language itself: Anything?
"[Anything?]" Oranna repeats, her smile somewhere between bashful and hopeful. And there's something else there, in those big brown eyes — trust. "[Right well, that's… we'll start there then, and see where we end up?]"
Befound rumbles. This is simple, people. They're going to end up home, with lots of dinner, and a long brushy brushy time before nap time. The end.