Muse of Xevis > | < Defender of Trearlonis > | < Elder of Gostrenac > | < Daughter of Eshoza "The Druma has been restless of late," said a young man who appeared to be talking to a tree. The leaves of the tree rustled over his head as if in response. Rhoden closed his eyes and listened to the sound. "The time of Prophecy approaches again." He sighed heavily and said, "The trouble of living in an in-between world. Our lives are dictated by prophecy and destiny and fate."
He made a fist and placed it on the trunk of the tree, stretching his other arm wide as though to incircle it, but it would have taken four of him to make a complete circle around this tree mother. "Arbassa," he whispered softly into the bark of the tree that had not opened since the last time a Prophecy had left her to sleep silently. The leaves rustled again and Rhoden said, "I would. And never return. If I could go to a place where a man may make his own destiny, I would leave Fincayra and never return and I would not be sad for it."
Again the leaves rustled and Rhoden stepped back from the tree, lookine devastated. "The heroes must return home when the defeat Rhita Gawr, if they are able. I think... I think I would ask to go with them."
The branches above his head creaked, almost in warning. "I don't care. I would take the risk. Even if I could never shift again, I would... I would gladly be rid of this curse of living two lives."
He placed his hand against the bark again and said, "I would only miss you, Arbassa. Only you."
He turned away from the great tree and walked further into the Druma. "I must go to the shore. If I never see you again, mamau coelden, know that I loved you the most."
Arbassa's leaves rustled one last time, but this time Rhoden could hear words whispered to him on the wind. "Bydd y coed wedi colli'u dail erbyn hynny."
Rhoden looked at Arbassa with tears in his eyes and said, "I know. And I'm sorry."
Without another word, he turned and ran into the forest, shifting easily into a white deer as he left the tree mother.
OOC: If you're curious, the phrase is Welsh. It means, "The trees will have lost their leaves by then." Welsh is such a gross-sounding language, but it's beautiful in print. Mamau coelden is also Welsh and is basically "tree mother".
Last edited by Reincarnation Jones; 07-15-2010 at 05:06 PM.
Reason: Grammar. I'm awful sometimes.
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