Snaketwist's Cave

All storylines with this setting will take place here.

Tern held back a bitter laugh. Free of worries? he thought, I wish. "Despite any of those worries," Tern began, "The festival had its sunny spots." He smiled at this. He had made new friends, spent time with old, faced a fear, and had taken part in the usual celebrations. Had the recognition not happened, it might have been one of the better festivals he had been to. "I enjoyed it as much as I could."

Tern also looked around, following his cousin's gaze and noting the absence of activity. "How did you get up so early?" he asked, realizing how early it actually was for the day after a festival, "Are you not exhausted from the night's festivities?"

"The sun has a tendency to do that to an elf. Doesn't she?" Tern mused, "But I have made similar observations regarding many of the radiant and energetic creatures in this land." He grinned, then let the collection of feathers catch his attention.

"You are too kind, cousin," the elf stated as he examined the feathers, "I refuse to take anything without some form of repayment, though."

Tern grew silent, his forehead creasing, as he tried to decide which feathers would work best for Serpent Fang's spear. Unfortunately, only the ones he would want on a spear stood out to him, and he couldn't decide which would be best for his possible half-brother.

"Which two would you say are the most simple and plain, Snaketwist?" he finally spoke.

Tern shot a sideways glance at his cousin at the mention of dreams. He wondered what was troubling the elf. Not wanting to force any unwanted conversation, but still curious, he decided to gently prod at the subject. "Dreams are cruel little things," he began, "Sometimes so sweet and pleasant, and then they turn on you and bite you right in the fins." He demonstrated his words with animated expressions and hand gestures, ending off with a frustrated huff and crossing his arms. Tern did not like it when dreams turned sour.

The elf took the feathers in his hands and compared them thoughtfully. Both plain, both nice. He tried to ask himself which Serpent Fang would prefer, but the black feathers kept distracting him before he could come to a decision. They were the colour of his hair, and Serpent Fang's hair when he thought of it, and the blue was so pretty. Tern took quite a liking to them, so much so that he saw no reason for anyone to disagree.

"I think I will take these," he said, passing the thin feathers back to Snaketwist and carefully pocketing the others in a small pouch at his waist, "Thank you, these will perfectly complete the spear. I will bring you something in return as soon as I can."

Tern's eyes lit up, "Snaketwist!" he exclaimed, "That is the most brilliant notion! Little fish swimming through the fabric of unconsciousness. If only dreams were fish. Then we could catch them and keep them forever without having to worry about forgetfulness snatching them away from us." He sighed, eyes taking on a dreamy state, "And for the ones we did not favour, we could cast them back into the sea and never have to think on them again."

The final words in his cousin's sentence snapped Tern back into the real world. He frowned. But, before he could say anything, the other elf had hurried on. Still thinking on what Snaketwist had just said, Tern took the feathers and put them in the pouch with the others. "Thank you," he said, "I will bring any I do not use back to you."

He examined his cousin's features, trying to gauge whether a listening ear would be welcomed or rejected. Something was clearly troubling Snaketwist, and Tern was concerned. He hoped the elf would be willing to open up to him. It was not a completely selfless desire, though. Part of him knew that listening to the troubles of another might help him further forget his own. "A pretty determined little fish," he finally said slowly.

"I hope so too," Tern sighed with a half-smile. I really hope so, he thought. That last thing he wanted was to have drowned a relationship with his possible brother before it was even given a chance. 

Tern's smile widened in understanding at his cousin's next words, "Then I wish you luck," he said warmly, "Let me at least help distract you for an afternoon, then. Shall we find some peace at Nymirini's Beach?"

Tern nodded, "I will enjoy having your company as I finish it." He glanced down at the spear in his hand at the thought. There was not much left for him to do, but he could always help his cousin with the pearls once he was done.

"I am sure there will be," the elf replied, despite his knowing that the comment was not entirely intended for answering, "It is a beautiful day, and most elves are likely still sleeping from the festivities. What could go wrong?" He grinned and began making his way to the cave's entrance. 

He stopped, however, at Snaketwist's promise, turning. "Thank you, cousin," he murmured, appreciative of the offer, "Always." He laid a hand on the other's shoulder. "I trust you know you can always do the same? I would never shy from a little extra fishing practice." Tern winked, the sincerity of the moment splitting easily and falling back into a comfortable joviality. 

Tern flipped the spear, and headed for the outdoors, humming.