RP:Feline Hospitality

Synopsis:Rorin comes across Zahrani while she watches over some of her collective's children. The felines inadvertently provide a bit of emotional respite for Rorin; the young man would have otherwise been dwelling on bad memories.

Pebbly Shore

Zahrani silently walks along the pebbly shore, the feline accompanied by a group of 4 younger ones that scan the stones beneath their feet. The paladin is wearing her preferred plate armor, her panther head covered by a shawl with the ends tucked into the breastplate. A light mist falls, causing the treated metal of her armor to shimmer with rivulets of water. The children she guards spend their time searching for seashells, gold, pretty stones, and snacks. One finds a crab, another seeks out mussels. "Let's build a fire out here tonight. We could use it to cook whatever we catch," a girl proposes. Rani looks up at the overcast of cloud and fog. "That might be tricky with everything so wet." A lad with snow-leopard features chimes in, "I could start one. It's the first thing I learned in Xalious." The adult panther smiles at the 11-year-old, "Very well, Amir."

Rorin tumbled the pebbles in his hand as he recalled some snippet of a childhood poem about the tears of the moon and a sorceress with her knight. The young half elf tried to skip one across the water and harrumphed as it sunk beneath the waves. His eyes were pools of silver looking somewhere far away until the wandering felines snapped him to attention. He could not recall having spoken to the paladin Zahrani alone before, and this seemed it would be no different as he waved and drew his unimpressive height up from a crouch. “Hail, fellow,” he paused for a moment and wondered what exactly they were to each other. Fellow protectors, warriors, worshippers, there was nothing that settled in his mind quite right, “and well met,” he finished. He realized a moment after he’d called her a fellow, but he was certain she’d pay it no mind. “A fire you say? Come, make a pit with me just here, I’ll lend you a hand and something to pass the night.” Rorin had taken up smoking different herbs and scents to clear the mind or wake it. He wondered if he had catnip somewhere in his collection of odds and ends...

Zahrani turns to face Rorin, the feline offering the young man a warm smile when he greets her. It wouldn't be the first time she had been called a fellow, and it likely won't be the last. The younger catfolk pause, eyeing the half-elf with unblinking eyes as he invites them to join him. They glance at Rani, searching for any sign of whether this interloper was a friend or foe. The paladin taps the amulet around her neck, indicating silently that Rorin is okay to be around. Amir, the snow-leopard lad, nods to Rorin, before pointing to a good location for a firepit and saying, "With this light misting rain, I'm not too worried about fire spreading." As they venture to the location, two of the other children gather driftwood. The next time the half-elf looks to Rani, he would likely see a very different face. It is elf-like and androgynous, with dark-brown skin contrasting sharply with cyan eyes. Her black tail still swishes behind her, and her pointed ears still bear black fur. A serene grin returns when she makes eye contact with the young man again, before asking, "It's been awhile since I saw you. What have you been up to?"

Rorin huddles down near the pit and the next time he looks up at Zahrani, his breath would catch. Rorin is a young man for whom infatuation with the fairer sex does not sweep in and out like the wind, but rather rushes like water and leaves so many tide pools of idle fantasy. A blink, a shake of the head later, and the boy brings out something from his pocket. “Busy busy busy. Still hanging around the North, looking for people to save, evil to slave, and other momentous events for my pilgrimage to be on.” From a old red cloth he would draw a single sliver of some strange metal, dull as could be, til lit struck flint with a mighty hunger and a gout of flame licked up the wood. The eerie deep redness seemed as if it had once been alive, in its own mysterious way. “I take it these aren’t your uh, personal children, but refugees?” He could see the caution and unsurety. War orphans, he wondered as he stowed the artifact with all the ceremony of a used handkerchief. He missed visiting the gaggle of orphans himself back at the ancient temple of the wood.

Zahrani lowers her shawl, exposing well-maintained dreadlocks and bronze wire jewelry to keep them out of her face. Amir watches the other paladin as he strikes a piece of flint, before using his own arcane talents to ensure the fire is lit. A tiger lass about the same age as Amir grabs a large slab of smooth stone nearby, placing it atop two larger stones next to the pit so it would serve as a makeshift cooking surface for the mussels they had gathered. Rani nods in response to Rorin's summary of the work he's done in the north, before raising a brow at the suggestion that the children were refugees, "Not quite. The colony I grew up in is here in Cenril. These are some of its children." She motions to the young cats. "They may not share my blood, but we are as close as kin." A small cheetah lass, roughly 6 or 7 years old, sits in the female paladin's lap, taking a small netted bag of mussels and scallops and arranging them on the stone near the fire. They would steam and open up, revealing the morsels of seafood within. Rani continues the conversation, "I don't have any cubs of my own, though that may change someday. My work has mostly taken me through Craughmoyle, Larket, Cenril, and Sage."

Rorin looked into the dancing flames and poked out some seasoning. “That’s swell. I miss being among the other children of my temple. I visit them at times, as travelers visited me and mine.” Larket. Rorin had avoided mentioning what kind of North he had been busy in, besides with Lionel. Another paladin was sure to keep the piece, but it wasn’t the kind of thing you talk about around children. “I’ve never spent much time around felines, I don’t know about your customs I’m afraid. I’ve met the ones near Frostmaw once or twice.” As solitary as the giants, maybe more. He had spent a bit of time in the Nameless Desert. “I’m afraid I don’t know you much either, Zahrani. I can’t imagine it was easy growing up here,” not that it really is anywhere. “I had good times growing up in Kelay and Sage,” among its challenges. In the town no one stared too hard at half elves. The forest, however, was not so kind.

Zahrani smiles as Rorin describes being among the orphaned children of his temple. It's usually a good feeling, taking care of children. Even the more rebellious ones. At the mention of him knowing little of her race, the feline explains, "Many of us are solitary when we're on the move, but in places like Cenril, we work and live in large groups. Isran Collective is the name of our colony." While she speaks, the feline children snack on the oceanic prey they had caught during their escapade across the shore, once it's cooled down a bit from the fire. "There's no official hierarchy in our commune; we have a reclaimed and renovated hotel on the west side as a shared home. When you're there, you are encouraged to help however you are able. We have fishing boats, small businesses, a clinic, our own processes for resolving conflict, our own festivals. Spend time with me, and you will probably spend more time with them." She nods to the younger felines. Almitra, the young cheetah girl in her lap, looks up at Rani and asks, "When is Brennia coming back?" to which the paladin laughs and says, "She's working at the House of Ara in Larket, but she'll be back in a couple days."

Rorin still wasn’t sure what to think of Zahrani. This was the least formal he had ever seen her, and she was still adorned in armor. She seemed so casual, she kept things simple and open. He decided that was good and nice. “Maybe I will,” he replied appreciatively, “communes like that have a certain energy to them. One big family, crazy uncles and all.” He chewed on his thoughts for a moment. “Do many of them follow a path of faith?” Paladins were few and far between, but the celebration of freedom reigned here by the waters. He wondered if many of them also handed together as thieves or pirates, the city populated the way it was.

Zahrani looks over the young half-elf, shrugging and nodding in agreement at his description of living in a large group. "Not a bad way to put it." Staring into the flame for a moment, the paladin turns to the young tiger lass that had brought the large stone to cook on, "This one here is Raahin. She's been my apprentice for awhile now, looking to become another paladin of Cyris. There are many in our collective who gravitate towards him." The 11-year-old girl is built like a small version of Zahrani, her black and orange striped tail swishing behind her as she folds her arms in front of her. Her face is neutral as her yellow eyes meet Rorin's, offering the other paladin a polite nod before she chimes in, "Just about every God has followers in Isran, but we've learned how to live together regardless." The panther woman responds, "And how have we done that, my young student?" The child emits a chuffing noise, very much like a tiger, pondering what she's learned thus far and answering, "By remembering that the divine is within all of us. Nobody in our colony is all good or all bad." The children listen silently as the feline paladin responds, "Indeed. Everyone has the potential for bringing Freedom, Desire, Death, Love, Life...everything the Gods represent. All of those things already exist within us as whole beings."

Rorin smiled widely to see a young prospect so. “Hope not you have the pride of an undue king, but the sense of charity given by your kin. I did not grow up in a place that expected many to continue the traditions it could teach them, but one that fostered an independent growth. There are not many followers of Arkhen left in this world. I was drawn to the Path of Light as others before me, born to be so, some would say. Many people will try to give you advice, and some you should listen to - some you will realize only too late. It is a way of many hardships, sacrificing ones self for another, or for many others. So often heroes do not pass from this life quietly and comfortably in their beds. I may look young, but I have seen much, things I would never wish you to see, but I could stop a person of true faith no more than I could hold back the tides. I’m sure you’ve heard all this before. There must be something more pleasant I could mention,” he finished with a great heaving sigh that was unfit to be so heavy on a face so young that begged to be carefree.

Zahrani and the other felines are silent as they listen to Rorin speak. The silence remains for a moment, before Almitra gets off Zahrani's lap. She takes a piece of fruit from the pocket of her well-worn pants, a peach by the looks of it. She slices it in half, removing the pit and setting the halves open-side down on the hot flat rock. With a sizzle, the flesh of the peach is caramelized and sweetened by the brief cooking. The small cheetah girl then hands a half of the fruit to Rorin; a gesture of hospitality and understanding. The Isran Collective is no stranger to hardship, though things have gotten better over the years. The child then decides to ask a question that would help Rorin come up with a more pleasant conversation, "How does this taste?" Leave it to children to lighten the mood with simple pleasures.

Rorin could nearly cry. “Just fine,” he answered, munching away, “just fine.” He chewed again for a while and looked like he had lost the idea of what to say. He remembered terrible things - the battle of the bridge, saurian gate, the Haathian scourge. What had seemed like the end of the world and the death of too many friends and students time and time again. He tried to think of something less depressing and came up with his fingers around a small instrument in his pocket. “When I was a much smaller lad - and as a child, I was even much smaller, very small indeed - any travelers came by the temple and taught us their trades, their hobbies, whatever they had to know, they offered. Do you children know any instruments? I’ve learned the lute, the piano, a drum, and even this, the ocarina. I imagine you’ve seen them before, they carve them out of shelves at the beach.”

Zahrani watches Rorin with a warm cyan gaze. She knows that look on the young man's face; she had seen shell-shock before and had also experienced it firsthand. Upon producing the ocarina and showing it to the children, Almitra's eyes light up. Reaching into a satchel next to her, she produces a flute. "Yeah! I can play too!" Raahin, the tiger lass, chimes in, "I have a drum, but it's at home." Amir shrugs, "I've mostly been studying magic. Grandmother is tutoring me as well." The paladin woman says, "I have a sitar from my mother's homeland, but I too left it at home." When the chatter dies down, the young cheetah girl plays a traditional song played during the New Year, while two of the other children use their hands and feet as percussion, clapping and tapping the pebbly beach in time to the music.

Rorin watches them play with nostalgic enthusiasm. He had lot his friends long ago, the first of many trials, but they had days and nights like this full of love and fun and laughter. “Fantastic, fantastic. I really should see one of those festivals of yours. I’m sure they’re quite lively. The piano was the most difficult one for me, I first learned the accordion, and then met a man of fortune who taught me a tune. Do you lot know any good stories of your peoples history? I loved hearing those the most as a child. That’s part of why I became a paladin.” He could recite several by wrote, tails of all sorts of heroes among them. More than the paladin of Arkhen, the few that there were, he had heard many great tales of heroes of old from all kinds of ancestries, dwarves, humans, elves, and he was certain he could wrack his mind and recall a feline or two.

Zahrani watches the fire die down as the children entertain Rorin, and each other. The man sure does enjoy sharing, probably to take his mind off what he was dealing with. The panther turns to Almitra, spotting the little one attempting to suppress a yawn. It's about that time of the evening. "Sorry to be a spoilsport, but it's time for us to head home soon." The children grumble softly in protest, but they could feel the lull of sleep approaching, and the rain is anticipated to come down harder tonight. There would be no sleeping under the stars this evening. Turning to the other paladin, the panther places a warm hand on the young adult's shoulder and ask, "Do you have a place to stay, my friend?"

Rorin signed and shrugged, “always,” he said, knowing there were several places that would take him. “Thank you children - thank you all, for providing me company and reminding me of better times.” It only occurred to him now that he had talked so much about himself, and he felt a bit embarrassed about it. He rarely shared so much, but it had kept him from turning back to darker topics. “Next time you’ll all have to tell me more about yourselves! By no means should one man spread so much of his story without receiving more in return. I expect to hear plenty of things about you all, happy or no. Till next time!” He would wave them all goodbye, happy for having met them this night - and besides, he had learned more about Zahrani and her life through them, and for that he was glad too. Forming more questions instead of giving more answers would keep his mind busy for the night. Till next time...