Path barely discernible she stumbles along, deep in the the frozen woodland enshrouded in tangible mists , depths of winter, Bridie and the spectral
arboreal, silence only broken by sighs, she is lost.
Trepidation, a pause in time, to continue or retrace, ahead a robin is observed hopping amidst the branches of a thorn bush and a decision is made,
Bridie puts one foot forward and it is as if a ghostly hand brushes over the top of her head, she heard the sound of it's passing and turns to see an
arrow embedded in the elm tree behind.
Startled she again turns, to see a wolf emerge from the undergrowth, or at first glance a wolf, but upon second a man wearing the full pelt of that
forest creature, yet as lean and ranged in limb as any lycian.
-I just saved you, says the wolf.
-From what?, says she, surprised that he is not the only present peril.
-Look down at your feet, says he, and doing so she barely catches a glimpse of a large black spider as it scuttles off into the undergrowth.
-It was dangling over your head and rapidly descending, i shot away it's thread such that it fell before your feet, says smilingly the wolf man, cool
blue eyes twinkling beneath his shaded guise.
-Then i thank you for that, says she and adding, i am Bridie of the Western Extremities and who might you be?, warm hazel eyes making gentle
-I might go by the name of Robigo, says he but also adding, though in these times nothing is certain.
-Then Robigo perhaps you could help me for i find myself quite lost in these woods having strayed i fear from the path, Bridie hopefully explains.
-And where is it you were heading?, Robigo obligingly enquires.
-To be honest nowhere in particular,Bridie thoughtfully admits.
-Then you are not lost at all but have found the very place!, Robigo happily declares.
-I have?, ponders Bridie, continuing with, perhaps it is as you say, you dwell nearby?
-Always, replies Robigo adding, come lets us go there and you can eat and rest.
-Very well then lead on, responds Bridie, and so off they set into the heart of the forest, exchanging glances and enquiries as engagingly they stroll
Presently the arrival at a clearing, the late afternoon sunlight streams down into that secluded place, illuminating figures gathered around a fire
the smoke of which hangs heavy in the still air, the smell of which assails the senses both pungent and aromatic, the warmth of which beckons
-Here we are then, states Robigo with an expansive gesture.
-These are your merry men?, asks Bridie intrigued.
-These are miserable malcontents, says Robigo laughingly, stepping forward to the group seated by the fire, saying to all gathered there, -may i
present Bridie of the Western Extremities.
-Hi nice to meet you all, sayeth Bridie of the Western Extremities.
-That there is Llyr, says Robigo, indicating a burly figure of a man clothed in what appears to be dark and shiny seal skin, his hair hangs down
about his face dishevelled and greased not unlike seaweed, he seems agitated barely forcing a glance upward in recognition of the introduction, just
sufficient to afford Bridie a view of his fierce eyes of blue and green.
-And beside him we have Bran, continues Robigo, pointing out a man that though tall in statue appears elegant and refined, wearing a full length green
hooded robe , he looks up from a drum that he was softly tapping upon and smiles serenely towards Bridie, eyes of softest cerulean, distant and
Next we have Amaethon, continues Robigo, directing his attention towards a roguish looking character clad in a broad rimmed black hat and the ragged
tunic of a peasant that reveals his rough sinews, he looks upward to Bridie, dark enigmatic eyes.
-About time you got here, says Amaethon bluntly.
-I don't understand, mumbles Bridie perplexed.
-Ignore him, says Robigo jokingly, adding, -he's a mystery all to himself, next may i introduce you to this fine fellow Math.
-You're a Princess then?, asks fine fellow Math.
-Good Heavens no! laughs Bridie, enquiring further - what makes you ask that?
-You're dressed in purple, only Royalty wear purple, asserts Math.
-Where i come from anyone wears purple if it suits them, kindly explains Bridie.
-Yes but you're not there anymore, concludes Math.
-He's got you there Princess!, exclaims a sprightly youth dressed in pristine white linen, leaping to his feet and continuing, - allow me to formally
introduce myself, i am Gwydion illustrious bard of this woodland glen, swiftest in thought, word, and deed, lightener of the otherwise all pervasive
darkness, provider of sweet musical accompaniment to the stars themselves...
-And if i might interrupt also a little prone to exaggeration, suggests Robigo.
-Then if i were to suggest that this Princess who has entered into our midst is surely the most beautiful that has ever graced this enchanted realm
with her presence, that only a notorious dullard could fail to appreciate such exquisite refinement and charm, not thinking of everyone in particular,
you would accuse me of exaggeration?
-I'd just tell you to shut up, says Robigo winking, -i'd also like to introduce Beli.
Who arises and steps forward, a handsome young man of radiant features, long golden hair falls over his broad shoulders from which hangs a saffron
robe, he warmly embraces Bridie, plants the softest kisses upon her cheek, steps back smiling broadly and bows before her, before returning to his
seat, Bridie quite overwhelmed struggles to regain her composure.
-Here take a seat Bridie amongst us, suggests Robigo, which the exhausted Bridie gratefully accepts warming her hands by the glowing flames, and
-So what exactly is it that you all do?
-Well, considers Robigo, Llyr stomps his feet, Bran plays the drum, Amaethon the cymbel, Math the horn, Gwydion the lyre, Beli hums, and i play the
pipes, all badly.
-Then you a band of musicians?, seems likely to Bridie.
-They're a band of good for nothings and don't believe a word of what they say!, comes a woman's voice from outside of the gathered circle.
-lengthening shadows gathering bloom what now approaches if it be not doom, says Gwydion laughing, the reward for which he receives as a smack around
the head from the newly arrived doom.
-Bridie may i introduce to you my most fair and beloved sister Lillaenna, a huntress, says Robigo with an open armed gesture toward, seemingly
appropriate to her magnificence, as tall and as ranged in limb as her brother, long flaxen hair hanging loose over her bearskin cloak beneath which an
emerald robe, refined of feature and grey eyes that shone bright as steel.
-I see our little stray warms itself by the fire then, says Lillaenna roguishly.
-Lillaenna that's no way to address a Princess!, roars Math rising from his seat.
-i concur, says Gwydion, the address of a Princess should always be grander than simply by the fire.
-Oh give it a rest, says Lillaenna seating herself by the fire, adding with a smile, welcome Bridie and here's to straying.
-Thanks, says Bridie, i've really no idea how i ended up here.
-One of life's little mysteries i suppose, sympathizes Lillaenna, continuing, but well here you are now and as you can see life here tends to consist
of sitting around a fire and doing very little.
edit on Kpm531130vAmerica/ChicagoMonday1131 by Kantzveldt because: (no reason given)