Eastern Interface - Shrilk
This is a trampled clearing just inside of Shrilk. There is dense forest on three sides, north, south and east. Though a winding dirt track winds off eastward. You can see the border line, and across it, quite clearly, into the rolling hills and open pastures of Mythrayel. This area clearly sees a lot of use, covered in rutted wheel tracks, hoof and claw prints. There is a scattering of feathers churned into the soft earth as well.
Y'lyandra steps through the interface from Mythrayel, blinking a bit and looking a little.. disconcerted.. at the feeling. Shaking it off, she looks around at the clearing, obviously expecting something. When the Mythrayalian caravan is not there, she blinks slightly, then sighs. "Knew I shouldn't have scheduled those meetings for right before I left.." She mutters to herself, then sighs. She doesn't have much in the way of necessities.. nothing that she and Adam, her assistant, can't handle. Speaking of Adam.. She looks around the clearing again, not seeing her assistant for this trip.
Stormdancer lays in the shadows of the trees that line the clearing, his coloration making him practically invisible to the unpracticed eye. He lifts his head slightly as another centaur comes through the interface, dark golden eyes glimmering faintly, and he watches for a few moments. Caution, he has found, is certainly the better part of valour when dealing with these creatures. Over the years he's found them to be unpredictable and dangerous... some becoming hated enemies... a few, close friends. "Good day," he calls, after a few moments.
Y'lyandra looks up in surprise, having dug out her hand held electronic device and started prodding at it, muttering under her breath when it doesn't work. She looks first at the guards, but none of them appeared to have spoken to her, all intent on something else. After a few moments, she sees a gryphon near the edge of the trees, and she just.. stares. She takes a deep breath and with a nervous glance over her shoulder at the guards, she takes a few steps toward the raptor, and bows slightly from the waist. In very halting Shrilkian, she manages to croak out a greeting in response, "Good.. day.. um.. Pleasant.. skies...?" The end of her statment turns up at the end, not in a question, but more in hopes that she spoke correctly, and didn't inadvertantly insult that creature's mate, or somthing..
Stormdancer blinks in surprise at the attempt at Shrilkian, and rumblechuckles softly as he flows liquidly up onto all fours, and pads foreward into the ruddy light of the twin orange/reddish suns. "Well spoken," he purrrs, somehow managing to look 'down' on you... despite that fact that he's quite a bit shorter. One of those annoying predatory traits. "What brings you to Shrilk?"
Y'lyandra blinks slightly, then looks relieved that she actually got it right. The little travel book of handy phrases didn't really have much in the way of a pronunciation guide, after all. Shifting to the common language, she smiles, still a bit nervous, "I'm here for the festival. I was *supposed* to meet the rest of the caravan here, but got delayed." She gestures back toward the interface for a moment, "My assistant should be arriving shortly, and then we'll be off.."
Stormdancer ahhhs, looking toward the west, and the snow-covered mountains that lay in that direction. "Caravans usually move slowly, so I suspect you might catch up to them before the pass. The one I saw on my flight in seemed only a few hours along, by foot." He manages, barely, to not sound painfully condescending on the concept of being limited to travel on the ground. "I hope you have a safe journey, and a pleasant one. Though... you did bring warmer coverings, I hope? You may find the pass to be ... difficult, if you're not acclimated to the weather."
Y'lyandra nods her head, following your gaze toward the rest. She looks down at her travelling clothes, and nods her head. "Adam has the supplies," she mentions, rubbing her hands up and down her arms slightly, though, obviously not relishing the thought of snow. She starts a moment, then digs through her satchel and pulls out a map, obviously unused. She traces a finger along, and hrms a bit. "Would they be going this way..?" She stops, holds the map down slightly to be at your eyelevel, then retraces a line on the map.
Stormdancer's great beak gapes slightly, and he makes a burbling sound of amusement. "There is only one road," he rumbles. "There may be paths off the main course, but they're game trails, and you could hardly mistake them for something navigable." He glances up at you again. "You probably couldn't fit in most of them. Just follow the main road for ... mrhrhr... two, maybe three days, until you come to another great road. The pyramid will be easily in view... and for that matter, you'll probably be able to hear the festivities by then."
Y'lyandra oh's, looking down at the map again, turning it 180 degrees, then turning it around the rest of the way, convinced she's looking at it properly. She sighs, then nods her head, folding it carefully and putting it back in her pack. She sighs a bit, and shrugs her shoulders. "Adam said he knows where we're going, so I guess I'll just follow him, and hope we meet up with the rest of the caravan." She looks a bit dubious, however, at her assessment of this Adam's capabilities at being a travel guide.
Stormdancer's expression somehow seems to gentle... a remarkable feat, given the apparent inflexibility of his features. "You'll do fine. We fly patrols along the Great Roads regularly, and the Shkrill appear to have abated their attacks on your people, in favor of extorting goods and food instead. You may be lightly harrassed on the way, but you shouldn't be in any real danger. Just stay on the road. Never venture more than a few meters from it." This last advice he seems very firm about.
Y'lyandra blinks a bit at the idea of being harrassed, or even attacked, while traveling down a main road. She nods her head, though, fingers tightening over the straps of her pack as she glances up at the sky for... who knows what. A glimpse of one of the patrols, perhaps? She looks back at you, and nods her head, a smile crossing her lips. "Thank you for your advice.. I've never been to Shrilk before, and.. well.." She grins slightly, "I'm afraid I'm hopeless when it comes to traveling much beyond Mythrayel.."
The drake also glances in that direction, skyward to the west. And while he can easily make out the groups of three, four, and five gryphons who hunt, and patrol, and scout, the are far too distant for your eyes to make out more than faint specks. Then his gaze returns to you, and he nods. "The Festival attracts many who have never left their home sphere before," he says, feathers along his neck and shoulders and chest fluffing out a bit, to be lightly fluttered by a chill breeze. "It's a pleasure to encourage that. Essspecially among our neighbors. Puhhrrhapssss... tensions may again ease between our peoples. I am Stormdancer, of the Grylra," he adds, settling back onto his haunches.
Y'lyandra nods her head, the smile coming a bit more naturally now, and less from pure nervousness. "I'm Y'lyandra," she says, pronouncing it "Ee-lee-AHN-drah", "But most just call me Lan." She shrugs her shoulders slightly, as if to say she had no idea why anyone would find her name difficult to pronounce. She extends her hand down to you for a handshake, then realizing that you might not have that sort of gesture, withdraws it with a soft "sorry.."
"Lllan," he repeats, trilling the l slightly. His voice seems an odd mixture of harsh and musical, croaking and smooth. And many consonates seem to be a compromise of sorts - a moment's thought would make it clear why 'p' and 'b' sound a bit odd. "A pleasure to meet you, Lan." He chuckles burblingly at your confusion of how to greet, and shakes his head. "Extend your hand, thussss..." he chiurrs, lifting one of his scaled foreclaws, and fisting it, extended foreward and down. The dark blades of the claws themselves are immense, and obviously it's impractical for a gryphon to do a lot of walking on the ground.
Y'lyandra nods her head, grinning at the way her name sounds when spoke by someone other than a centaur or Rolarii. She follows suit, fingers curling into a fist and extending it as you have yours. "Like this?"
Stormdancer bobs his head slightly, then rises up onto all fours and takes a couple of steps closer, as he had stopped several feet away. He arches his head, and lightly touches the side of his beak to the extended hand. "Most other races can become at least sssomewhat comfortable with that," he chiurrs, sitting down again. "You would probably be... discomfitted by our usual greeting, which is to touch beaks."
Y'lyandra hm's, and touches her fist to your beak. After a moment, she thinks, then kneels her torso and equine legs so that her face is a little above yours. Leaning forward slightly, she bumps her nose very lightly against your beak before rising back up.
Stormdancer blinks, the pale nictitating membranes flicking closed over his eyes a moment before the outer lids... then nuzzles the deadly sharpness of his beak back lightly to your gesture. "You ahhre unusually bold," he chortles... or unusually stupid, he thinks to himself, as he settles back slighty, gaping his beak in an amused grin. "Yesss... that's much like what we would do."
Y'lyandra nods her head, and the grin that spreads on her face is about the only thing that belies her nervousness at the situation. "Nah. Not bold," she demurs, "Just.. I'm vising here, and it would be rude if I didn't at least.. *try*."
Stormdancer chortles softly, bobbing his head, his tail swaying, then curling snugly up along his hindleg. "If only all were as tolerant and flexible," he rumbles. Of course, he certainly doesn't count himself as having any shortcomings in that respect... glaring though they might be to others. "You might find it better to simply offer your hand, rather than ... nose?" he wonders, uncertain if that, or 'muzzle' would be more appropriate.
Y'lyandra shrugs one shoulder as if she thinks there was nothing special about what she did, then lifts a hand to rub against her nose lightly. "I think I agree with you.. It might be odd for other gryphons, too, this strange centauress leaning down suddenly and sticking her face in theirs.."
Stormdancer cackles quietly, the tip of his tail twitching slightly. "It would," he assures you. "It's a bit different with us... if nothing else, we're shaped differently. And you're... quite a bit taller." He looks you over curiously, quite a bit more slowly and appraisingly than he has before. "I think you'll find the festival an interesting event, Lan. I look foreward to your attendance. Puhhrrhapss we'll get to know eachother a bit better, there."
Y'lyandra nods her head, tossing her head slightly as her hair slips over one shoulder. She returns the appraisal, taking advantage of the situation. She's never been this close to a gryphon before, much less had this long of a conversation with one of these utterly fascinating creatures. "I hope so. You are," she admits, almost sheepishly, "the first gryphon I've actually met.."
Stormdancer tilts his head sideways, making a soft sound something like a mix of trill and growl. "Then I do hope to have made a favorable imprrression," he chiurrs. "I have known many centaurs... some to my great pleasure, a few to my great... displeasure. I think you will be one of those I am quite happy to know."
Y'lyandra's eyes widen slightly at the tone with which you say "displeasure". "You.. haven't had good dealings with some of my race..?" She wasn't born in the sphere, but has been here for 5 years.. long enough to know of the history between the two species.
Stormdancer mrhrrhmms throatily, and nods slightly. "Some extremely poor dealings," he says, forcing himself not to show the anger. "I am considerably more cautious now, when dealing with Mythrayelians."
Y'lyandra takes an unconscious backstep at that, and nods her head, looking.. nothing short of amazed. While she has heard of hostilities of gryphons toward centaurs, the thought that the cruelty might have been reciprocated was something that, frankly, hadn't occurred to her. She looks.. almost ashamed that something like that could have happened, and so kneels down slightly, making a bow from her human torso. "I know I had nothing to do with it. .but.. I'm sorry for whatever was done to you.."
Skyler swoops in from above.
Skyler has arrived.
Stormdancer growls, deep in his chest, the sound almost subsonic. "I have learned," he says carefully, "That it is unwise to judge an entire people by a person. Or even several individuals. The wrongs done to me were... considerable. But I do not hold you rrressponsible. It has sssimply caused me to be less trusting, and more wary."
Skyler spins lazily down on a warm air current, landing deftly a few yards off from StormDancer, and a centaur she doesn't know. Once on the ground, she stretches back, wings extending a bit before they settle, lightly ruffled against her back. She trots over, stopping a polite distance away, and bows her head in cheerful greeting.
Y'lyandra bows her head again, and gives a slight smile. "Not that I blame you.. I would feel the same way, I think.." As the new gryphon arrives, she looks up, the nervousness evident once more on her face. One gryphon is one thing.. multiple ones? She stops that line of thinking, and shakes her head slightly. She kneels her thin front legs slightly, and once again gives her best attempt at speaking the gryphon tongue, "Good day.. pleasant.. skies." This time, she sounds a bit more sure of herself, regardless of how odd that sound must be coming from vocal chords ill-used to making such sounds.
Stormdancer glances upwards slightly as Skyler approaches... either he's been aware of her approach for some time, or he's quite unconcerned. "Greetings, Skyler," he chiurrups in Shrilkish - a random sounding chatter of squawks and chirps, before returning his attention to the mare. "A natural way to feel, I imagine. But I do find it quite aggrevating that your people are so rigerously defensive against us... while my experience have been... quite the opposite."
Skyler trots up, her attitude towards the centaur perfectly amiable, not imposing, or degrading, or any such nonsense. She gap-grins at the mare, and replies in common, "Hello there, clear skies." and to StormDancer, "Greatings." She tilts her head to one side, ear tuft flicking lightly at his words, though she doesn't comment just yet.
Y'lyandra relaxes a bit, mentally chiding herself for jumping like a toddler at every stranger she sees. She smiles, and replies in common as well, "Greetings.." She attempts a smile, and after a few moments, it feels natural. "Forgive me for seeming out of sorts. You startled me.."
Stormdancer rumblechuckles softly. "Most of you groundbound peoples don't think to look to the sky very often... so you may find yourself startled quite a bit, over the next few days. There will be.... quite a few gryphons, at the festival." He chuckles at the understatement - the sky will be dark with them, at times!
Skyler gap-grins, head cocked to one side cheerfully as she replies to Lan's comment, "Oh no worries, I get that all the time!" she cackles, rustling her wings, and nods her head, stepping from one foot to the other, "I can't wait for the festival!"
Y'lyandra feh's lightly, feeling more at ease with each minute. "Well, I, for one, look to the sky often.. Just not when searching for friends."
***Here is where life took our intrepid centauress away. Sorry for the inconvenience...blame real life.***