She nodded at him. The water was not near as warm as it had been, but she waited until they left to do a few lazy laps and sort her thoughts. There were several questions that remained unanswered, details she wanted to know. He hadn’t said anything more about the original incident, a situation she hoped to rectify.
Her eyes opened and she left the stream to get dressed and gather up her weapons. When she returned to the camp her composure had returned, and she felt clean, if not purged of the ghosts that still clamored at her.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Grayell was again resting by the log but had managed to figure out how to be clothed once more. He was eating part of the rabbit he had cooked... and his eyes dance with fire as he saw her. He smiled, swallowed a bite and wiped off his mouth as she approached.
There you are. Here, saved you plenty.
His own hands were full, but he'd sorted her a rabbit given Zaedus had eaten a small zoo already. He had some tea on the boil and seemed in better sorts still, the swim and the food had done the trick. He looked to the fire as he ate... but eyes kept wandering to look at her for but a brief second at a time. He spoke to the both of them, a charm in his tone rather than the somber attitude he'd had much of the day.
Alright then. Not in a hurry to sleep... so how about we shoot the shit around the fire for a while yet?
She took the offered food and found a place to rest her back and hip closer to the fire. The warmth encouraged her to stretch out and she extended her feet out to one side.
What would you like to talk about?
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
She tilted her head. A tale? Hm. She might be able to do that. She took a few bites of the rabbit, then put it aside and wiped her fingers clean on the grass beside her. The tea caught her nose and she looked at him.
I might know a tale or two.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
She laughed, accepted the tea, and began the tale.
Long, long ago in a certain place there was a priest who, more than anything else, enjoyed collecting old things. One day the priest came back carrying an old tea kettle he had purchased. Once he had it back in his room, he spent a long while gazing it and smelling it.
Finally when he could take the smell no longer he called out," Hey! Is anyone out there?" and several young acolytes came running in. "I would like you to wash this tea kettle. You must scrub it very well, and use a lot of sand."
The youngsters who heard this order were often told that sort of thing, and tended to be a little sloppy in their washing. So they scrubbed away, grumbling that the priest could wash it himself if he didn't like what they did.
Her voice faltered for a moment and she took another sip of the tea.
Grayell had a tea cup in his hands now, warming his palms. She had his complete attention, eyes perhaps a little amused, a little tired... and entirely fascinated. He looked to his tea from time to time, it was entirely improper to stare of course.
But imagery of their training in the stream was fresh in his mind. Perhaps he'd rest to sweet dreams this night.
Her cheeks were flush, whether from the tea or the fire, it was hard to tell. But he was listening and the world around them was slowly going to sleep.
Her voice was softer this time around, too. Though, it changed tone when using the voice of the acolytes or the priest as compared to the voice she used to spin the tale.
Unexpectedly the boys heard the cry, "Ouch!" as if the tea kettle had spoken, or rather complained.
The acolytes knew that tea kettles didn't have a mouth that talked, only a spout that poured tea, and they ran back to the priest's room as fast as they could go.
“It's terrible! The tea kettle can talk!" They shouted in unison.
But the priest didn't believe what they told him.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Grayell was still smiling, but his tongue rolled in his cheek. He had a sly look on his face, perhaps expecting humor at the end of this story - something that would actually be quite... unusual for a woman of her background. He rolled to his side, leaned with his arm across the log and nodded as she talked.
She wasn't watching him, she was caught up in the story. Her voice rose and fell with the next few sentences, the cadence of it all coming back to her.
“You boys are talking gibberish because you don't like to wash. That's quite enough of that. When you've washed the kettle, fill it with water and bring it back here."
The acolytes filled the tea kettle with water and carried it back. They set it over the irori, then fearfully backed away from it, almost falling over each other in their haste. They were watching to see what the tea kettle would do instead of their feet.
"Really! You're just talking gibberish," the priest told them. "I don't want to hear any more -- a talking tea kettle, indeed!"
"Too hot!"
Along with this cry, the tea kettle spit out an amount of water. The boys were clutching their robes, and even the priest was terribly surprised. As long as he'd been collecting old things, he had never heard a tea kettle talk. He did not have a good feeling about this. He shooed the boys away impatiently. "Out, out, I can see I'm not going to get any help out of any of you."
The priest promptly turned around to stare at the tea kettle. It hadn't spoken again. Perhaps he was just hearing things. Later, when he had finished most of his preparations for dinner, except for collecting his portion of rice. He discovered that his smoked fish was missing. That was as unbelievable as a talking tea kettle. He searched everywhere, but couldn't find a trace of the fish. What could explain that. He had never heard of a fish that managed to get away after it had been cooked.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Grayell remained as attentive as prior but continued to smile... subtly. He had a notion, but hadn't quite figured out where this story was headed just yet. She was a fantastic story teller though.
He poured himself another cup of tea and leaned forward to offer her the same.
She took the tea from him gratefully, the liquid soothed the back of her throat, too. Which was exactly what she needed. She had probably spoken more tonight than she had in the last month.
The priest was still hungry, of course; even after eating the rice, when he lay down for the night, and he started to wonder if he had imagined the entire incident. He knew he was imagining things when he heard a voice say, "I ate your fish."
He turned toward the voice and saw the tea kettle, no, not a tea kettle at all, but a tanuki, with arms, legs, a tail, and a huge rounded belly looking back at him. His first thought was to run, but the tanuki blocked the door.
"Do you have any more fish? That was a lovely morsel, surely you could share the rest of them?"
The priest set bolt upright he was well aware of the mischief a tanuki could get up to. "I'm sorry, but you can see what a poor life I live. I have no more fish at all." he replied.
The tanuki turned and glanced about the room. It did seem to be small and dimly lit, and the smell of food was minuscule at best.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Grayell only sipped his tea and exhaled with a sigh as it warmed his body and soothed his core. Still giving her his full attention, he nodded as she spoke.
This was indeed quite the tale. Raccoon dog spirits... fun times. He set his tea aside and again got a little more comfortable, sniffed and wiped his nose. He remained quiet of course, no need to interrupt this tale.
He would remember that she had quite the storyteller's talent though.
The priest had slipped from his bed while the tanuki contemplated what to do. He didn't make any quick motions, either. Instead he deliberately pulled out a chair and motioned for the tanuki to sit down.
"Perhaps we can help each other out. I despair of ever teaching good habits to those wild boys who tried to scrub your earlier form. They do not listen and spend their time playing at games of war..." His voice droned on, he was a lackluster speaker and everyone knew it, except him. The tanuki had tuned him out.
"...I know you are clever, and it is possible you could teach them what I cannot. In the meantime, I will fish for you... his voice got slower, quieter as he talked and before long the tanuki was nodding his head, his eyes falling shut. Is it possible he was bored? This priest was no longer amusing. He slid off the chair, grabbed the man by his robe and looked him straight in the eye.
"Do not purchase any more tea kettles." With that he swung the door open and departed.
The priest took him at his word. he bought no other tea kettles, in fact, he stopped drinking tea all together, choosing sake instead. And sometimes, late at night, when the acolytes were settling down for the night they could hear him yelling at the absent tanuki.