If my heart was made, at least in part, of a tree-- if such a thing was possible-- then I must also have had wind in my veins and fire in the tiny hollow spaces in my bones.
(And my soul? Was it starlight or sun? Pure, endless oceans or a sea of dust?)
For the crisp breeze stirred me as though I were made of leaves. And the chill of late autumn washed over me, but it did not settle beneath my skin. My leaves did not turn colors and fall. I was not at all afraid. I know now that I had no reason to be, but at that place and time I was not thinking of danger or reason, or strangeness, or just how far I was from home.
I was listening.
“I’m… trying to listen. To the wind. The earth. The trees.” My soul, will I recognize the sound of it when it calls for me? “To You.” I watch the beetles crawl from his ears, and the look in his eyes-- how to describe that look? Ancient, maybe. Timeless. I was not disappointed. Oh no, quite the opposite-- I was ecstatic, but in my slow quiet bitten-lip way, the way everyone else found so odd. The only hint of this was when I smiled, bright as the sun, tentative but unapologetic as a blooming poppy.
The deer came almost close enough to touch. I could smell them My breath rose in gentle trails of steam-- a constant reminder that I was not made of wood, or glass, or anything much more than blood, muscle, and porcelain white flesh.
I did not fully understand the tree-man’s story. But, I did not think that all stories had to be understood. In fact I always sort of yearned for the unknowable. The world was only made that much more beautiful by the mystery that shrouded it.
“I… yes, like a hive in some ways, but not nearly so crowded.” I was not sure exactly how to describe it. “It’s near the ocean, on the other side of the mountains.” I gesture to it behind my shoulder with a flick of the horn, not that it really matters-- the Armas are not visible from behind the veil of the forest. “The city is made of stone, mostly, and dirt, and some wood. At night the markets come alive. Vendors from all corners of the world come to peddle their wares.”
As a general rule, I didn’t ever talk this much. But Duir did not fit in to any rules that I knew. It made me feel like I should live outside the rules, too, even if just for a little while. “So, do you have a heart?” It did not occur to me that this question might be construed as rude. “Like, a real one. A beating one.” Understanding of most things came easily to me. But I still was not sure if he was a tree or a man, and my mind did not like things it could not wrap itself around. “Or a soul? What about that?” I realized as soon as I asked the question how absurd it was. I grinned anyway, toothy and unrepentant.
@Cernunnos <3
