Deep into that darkness peering... :Dorian Drake Samheen 16

[Shaeliana]

The day dawned with the sound of raindrops blown against the small shack. Nestled against him for warmth, Maranda slept peacefully, a slight pink blush on her cheeks, curly yellow locks scattered and wild in the gray morning light. The fire from the night before had long gone out, the remaining ashes cold.

No gull cries greeted the morning, only the blowing wind and pelting rain. Also missing was cat, who had not come in with them the night before.

[Guest]

Dorian sat up slowly, trying not to disturb Maranda. He listened to the weather, and decided that there might be salvage, so he got up and put on his trousers and sandals, but left the shirt behind; it was of fine cloth and he'd already treated it roughly.

He gathered up his gaff and bucket, as quietly as possible left the shack. He wasn't worried about the cat; she had gone off on her own before. It was time to see what the weather was now, and what the storm had brought up. Winter was coming, and Drakes were careful to hunt the shores for anything of use, and anything that could be sold. Water did not bother him, and this bad weather only meant that he was going to stay ashore today, maybe with clams for dinner.

[Shaeliana]

This storm wasn't bad at least compared to some recently. Either the storm had lost energy as it moved across the lake or it had looked to be worse than it was. Steady cold rain pelted down from low hanging gray clouds, but the wind wasn't inordiantely strong and the waves were only a bit higher than normal as well. Still, the cold and the wet had been enough to keep all but the most ambitious inside this morning.

However, out on the lake a small masted craft clipped by at a pretty good speed though with the rain hampering visibility, it was difficult to tell much about it except that it was running sails and probably wouldn't have a crew of more than 25 hands. Not visible for more than a few burns, it faded into the gray of the falling rain.

On the shore, there was some driftwood not much even of that. The rain and waves had uncovered a small nest of turtle eggs that were under attack by a dozen or more crabs, taking advantage of the bounty. Otherwise, there was not much of note, the typical lengths of lake weed and the occasional dead fish and one beached jelly fish.

[Guest]

Dorian simply selected a few fine fat crabs, and put them in the bucket. The rest he tossed out to the water, and covered over the nest. It had already been raided once, so he would take no eggs, so that there would be turtles in the future. He picked up a few pieces of driftwood and strolled back to the shack, after a walk along the shoreline to determine if anything else was going on in His Lake. Sure, the King might own it, but Dorian fished it.

He would probably not get out onto the water today, but he'd come across dinner already, so that wasn't a problem. Perhaps he should swim out to the Mer today and tell them what he had seen. He'd ask Maranda if she thought that was wise.

[Shaeliana]

By now the rain had let up some, the sky just a light gray as the light cold moisture fell, still blown by the moderate winds off the lake. Along the shoreline, Dorian found more of the same, plenty of lake weed washed ashore and the occasional driftwood or other piece of useless debris. It wasn't until the fisherman had walked some ways down the beach where it rounded completely out of sight of the shack that Dorian stumbled on anything interesting.

They had only just set back out to see, a pinance by the look of it with eight men aboard, seamen by the look of them. Out on the lake, shrouded by the rain sat a large ship anchored in this natural cove area, sails of course down and no sign of a flag the fisherman could see.

[Guest]

Dorian watched this. They weren't Orcs, but it was strange to see this sort of thing anyway. The rain didn't bother him, as being soaked was common enough for a Selkie and a fisherman besides. He did not move until the pinnace was back at the ship, and he saw the crew returning to the vessel. There was no point in trying to read her name, he couldn't read. It had not been necessary, in Old Drake's point of view.

Then he trotted onward, resuming his search of the shoreline.

[Shaeliana]

The rest of the beach held no treasures or finds, only wet sand with strands of washed up lakeweed and the occasional crab or other refugee from the water. Far from his shack where Maranda sat sewing with the reappeared cat, a small dark mass lay just out of reach of the incoming waves. Closer inspection revealed a young seal. It had been wounded, from the looks of it a harpoon strike that had sliced a deeo gash running down the seal's back and taken a chunk out of the tail fin.

Not dead, it turned its head towards the approaching human, too weak to return to the water or do much of anything besides lift its head for a few moments at at time.

[Guest]

Dorian dropped the bucket and ran to the seal. "Ta bron orm....." he murmured, automatically dropping back into the lyrical language of the Selkies, and gently laying a hand on the seal's head. He chirrupped deep in his throat, with a coughing sound, trying to soothe the seal with the greeting of a seal to a seal.

There was no time to be angry at the one who had hurt the seal; this was the time to gather it up and care for it. He gently took it into his arms, to carry it toward the shack. The gash was deep; it needed to be sewn shut. A fisherman was no stranger to such wounds, they happened easily and often enough in the course of his labours.

[Shaeliana]

While the seal was not that big and gave no struggle, it was heavy and Dorian was on land which impeded his steps somewhat causing the walk home to take far longer than the walk out had. By the time he arrived back at the shack, the rain had stopped and Maranda was out next to the lake with the tea kettle, filling it with water, cat close behind. She filled the kettle and was nearly to the door before cat bounded off towards Dorian, catching the blonde's attention. Seeing the fisherman lumbering towards the cabin, his arms loaded with something, she set the kettle in the open doorway and ran to meet him.

"What happened? What've go... " she was saying as she ran towards him, stopping when she got close enough to it was a wounded animal, a seal.

"Oh, the poor dear! What happened?" she asked as she walked along beside her husband ready to help in any way he needed.

[Guest]

Dorian had to really concentrate to speak Common. "Someone...harpooned...this seal." he said slowly, then it also dawned on him. "My bucket and gaff are out on the shore. Can you get them ?"

He set the seal down, by the door of the shack, where the light was good, and patted it comfortingly, chirrupping in the language of seals to it. The wound had to be sewn up and the seal cared for. After all, this might be a relative of his.

[Shaeliana]

With a nod, the blonde ran down the shore in search of her husband's bucket and gaffhook. Meanwhile, the wounded seal finally responded with soft sounds of its own, though they were weak and soft. Shifting its body a bit when laid down, it looked up at Dorian plaintively before laying its head down in the sand.

Some burns later, Maranda came running back, the fisherman's things in hand. Setting them down inside the doorway off to one side, the blonde knelt beside the seal and reached out to touch it gently, stopping when it seemed to flench away from her touch.

"Poor thing. This had ta be an accident," she offered, more of a question than a statement. "What can we do for him Dorian? He won't die will he? I've some herbs for healin' cuts and another for easin' pain that we had for mama. Do ya think those'd work on a seal?"

[Guest]

In Dorian's mind, seals were people. He had spent most of his time as a seal, until the fateful events that cost him his skin and his family. This could be a relative. And seals, here in this part of the lake, were rare. It had to have travelled quite a ways. "They might," he said. "We have to stitch up the wound, it's too deep to heal on its own. You're better at it than I am, but I'll do it if you can't."

He murmured to the seal then, the gentle coughs of a seal talking to a seal, trying to reassure it. There were only so many sounds a seal could make, and their language was simple.

[Shaeliana]

Had this happened a week ago, Maranda would have wondered at the fisherman barking at the seal. Now that she knew his background, she understood what he was doing and it didn't seem unnatural at all, even if it was foreign to her and would seem odd to others. Nodding at his comments about sewing the wound up, she hurried in to fetch her needle and some thread. Marta might consider it wasteful, but she pulled out black silk thread that was used on the costliest of embroidery, knowing it was strong enough to hold up to the water and sand. The cotton and wool threads she wasn't so certain of. Quickly, she threaded the needle and head back to her husband.

Back outside, she knelt down beside the injured creature and reached her hand out slowly to touch it. With a sharp bark, it shied away from her, moving towards Dorian, shaking in fear.

"I don't know that the seal'll let me touch it, Dorian," she said softly.

[Guest]

Dorian nodded, and spoke to the seal in the language of the selkies. "I will close this wound. This will hurt, but I need to do it, so you can heal." He took the needle from Maranda and steadied the seal, and began to sew. It was not unlike sewing sails. This required his attention, so he fell silent. Slowly but surely, reassuring the seal when he needed to, Dorian sewed up the wound. He was not as fast nor as skilled as Maranda, but it had to be done.

Once he had tied off the thread, and bitten it through to give the needle back to Maranda, he surveyed his work and spoke to the seal again, in Selkie. "I do not know if you know this language, my kin," he said, "But this place is safe for you. I will bring you meat, and you can rest."

He then looked up at Maranda. "I told the seal to rest, and that I would bring it meat, and this is a safe place. Your scent is human scent, so a human probably did this. And I don't know if he knows Selkie. My Seal language, well, it's not a hard language, but I learned it a long time ago."

[Shaeliana]

Wimpering in pain, the seal allowed Dorian to sew up the wound. While he worked and spoke the beautiful flowing language to the creature, Maranda went inside and prepared some herbs. By the time the fisherman had finished, she had returned with a gray thin paste which she handed to Dorian as she took the needle from him, wiping it on the tail of her skirt before securing it into her bodice.

"Put a light coatin' o' this on the wound. It'll help it ta heal," she informed softly. "As for it knowin' Selkie, seems ta me it understood yer meanin' even if not all the words Dorian. Look how trustin' it tis of ya," she put a hand on his shoulder.

"Course, could be it's a she and like me, she's under the spell ya weave when ya start with those pretty words," she smiled and kissed top of her husband's head.

"Where'll ya get meat for her? She eats fish?" she asked. She'd heard a tale once about a seal, but couldn't remember much about it and had never seen one before. This is what her husband turned into? She looked at the lovely eyes the animal had, sad expressive eyes and wondered if Dorian's eyes were still blue when he was a seal, or brown like this one.

[Guest]

He smiled back at Maranda for her sweet kiss, but didn't know how to respond to a compliment. He wasn't accustomed to them.

"Aye, raw fish," Dorian said. "Did those crabs all get away when I dropped the bucket ? I'll fetch up some clams and mussels." The seal was probably hungry, for those wounds would limit its hunting ability. He looked back at the seal, and spoke in the lyrical Selkie tongue. "This is my wife, friend Seal," he said. "She will not harm you. I'll fetch you food, but I want you to stay here, where it's safer, for now."

[Shaeliana]

Looking in the bucket, the blonde shook her head.

"Well, don't know how many ya had before, but there's half a dozen in there now, pinchin' at one another looks like," she moved back to the seal. Overhead the sky began to slowly darken once again. Out over the middle of the lake flashes of lightening lighted up the clouds like fancy lanterns.

"If your thinkin' o' fishin' Dorian, ye'd best hurry dearheart. Looks like we're goin' ta get another round. You won't leave her out here in the weather?" she asked already planning what she could move to bring the injured seal inside. Still, with the wood smoke and human scents, she wasn't sure if that would be the best thing.

[Guest]

"All right," Dorian said, pulling out the fattest one and knocking it sharply on the nearest rock. "If you can set the rest on to boil, I'll see about fetching up some more food. A lightning storm, it's best to stay ashore. I'll see if she'll go along into the shack." When the lightning was strong like that, too many bolts struck the water, and anything on it. He would have to fish the shoreline, or seek clams and mussels. It also looked like he'd be stuck for finishing up his traps again today, if another storm was coming.

He opened the crab shell and held it for the seal, hoping it would take some nourishment. Then maybe he'd try to convince her to take shelter in a man's dwelling, at least for now. And he wondered what the Cat would think of her.

[Shaeliana]

With a nod, the blonde went inside, added some wood to the fire, fetched the cook pot and went outside to fill it with water while Dorian fed the seal. A bit hesitant at first, the wounded animal did take what was offered before lowering her head back down with what sounded like a sigh. Still, she seemed less distressed now that her wound had been sewn and the medicine applied, brown eyes looking up almost mournfully at the fisherman.

The pot on the fire to boil, Maranda went down the beach to gather lakeweed. Cat seemed to be off doing her own thing and with the next storm nexis approaching the beach was quiet, the birds nested away and conserving their energies til this one blew over, washing up more morsels to feast on out of the lake.

[Guest]

Dorian coaxed the seal into the shack, patted her reassuringly while crooning softly, and took up his fishing tackle to see what he could catch off the shoreline waters. The storm was coming; there might be fish biting, and he could take off his sandals and shuffle the sand for clams. He left odd footprints when he did that, but that was just how his feet were. There was always a way to spot a half-breed.

"I'm going to the shoreline to see what I can find," he said to Maranda, taking off his sandals. To lose two pair inside of a month would probably make him faint, for Drakes were terribly tight-fisted over some things. "I'll be back before the storm comes." Storms always stirred up Drowned, anyway, and he was not in the right temper to be annoyed by them today. The shoreline would have to provide for two grown people, one seal and one cat. He headed out, padding along barefoot, holding his fishing lines and hooks, and carrying the gaff. The handle was good for feeling around in the sand for clamshells.

[Shaeliana]

Coaxing the seal inside took a great deal of work as it sized the fisherman up for trustworthiness and moved more slowly than usual on land due to the wounds. To Dorian's comments about fishing the shoreline, the blonde kissed his cheek, grabbed her cloak and a bundle which she tucked under her arm.

"I must take this ta Marta. I told'er I'd have it ready t'day and the customer'll be comin' ta pick it up. Shouldn't take long even if she's new work for me ta pick up," she smiled, glanced at the wounded seal and headed out.

Raining in more earnest now, the heart of the storm was still a good mark out over the lake, the lightening flashes impressive as they lit up the dark clouds and sent loud rolls of thunder out over the land. Close to shore, the fish were small, mostly only about the size of the fisherman's hand, some smaller, a few larger. And while his feet found many things buried in the sand, none turned out to be clams this time around. As he headed back to the shack, a streak of lightening snaked down and hit a tree on the edge of the beach that wrapped up around to the left. It was still a good ways off and little more than a flash and spark from this distance.

Back at the shack, Maranda had not returned. Instead, a woman with long dark blackish brown hair sat examining a wound that ran up the outside of her thigh and across her hips. Startled by the noise, she yelped at seeing Dorian, brown eyes wide with fear as she clutched something to her naked chest and inched back away from the man.

[Guest]

Dorian, accustomed to his mother being a naked woman and a seal both, as well as himself being seal pup and little nude boy, lacked the taboo against nudity. Maranda, naked, had the power to stir him, for he loved her; this was just a woman, nude. As common as anything, and also unsurprising to Dorian to see the seal was a selkie. The hope began to build in him though, that this selkie could perhaps give him some answers. But he had the sense not to rush into things; that was from Old Drake.

He had also brought a few fish up, having thrown most of them back; that and some lakeweed would have to make stew for dinner. He spoke in the musical Selkie language, still using small sentences, for he was only a child when he'd learned it. "Don't worry," he said, setting down the gaff in its place in the corner, and matter of factly laying the fish on a scavenged board, so he could gut them. "I am thy kith. What is your name ?"

He settled down to the fish, sitting on the floor, near the door, where the light was good. He would start a fire in the stove in a moment or two, but was actually too cheap to do so earlier than he had to. "And don't mess with that wound. There's some ointment for it." Maranda had brought it, and he figured it was good stuff, because his wife endorsed it. She was the smarter of the two of them.

[Shaeliana]

Keeping her distance, the woman sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose as she did.

"You speak our tongue yet you smell human. How can you be kith? Why would you...." she broke off, eyes growing large again.

"The human woman holds your skin?" It was more of a statement than a question and she looked around the shack. "She keeps you here... on land and cut off from your homeland, the waters? She must not claim my skin!" she asserted and attempted to stand to her feet.

"I am called Fínscothach but I must go home," she said weakly.

[Guest]

Dorian shook his head, patiently cutting up fish, sitting on the floor. "My mother was Selkie," he said slowly, in the language of the Selkies. "My skin I lost many years ago. I am landbound. The woman, Maranda, is my wife. She will not take your skin, nor will I. I....do not know my first name, but now I am called Dorian Drake. You can go home when you are well, Fínscothach. Sit down. Are you hungry ?"

He held out a tantalizing piece of fresh fish filet, glistening, just the sort of thing he liked to eat when he was out on the water and no one was watching, with an affable smile.

[Shaeliana]

"Lost?" the dark haired woman uttered in amazement. "How could one lose their skin unless some human stole it?" she murmured, shaking her head softly but sitting down none the less.

"Mother was Selkie? She was locked away from the waters too? Perhaps the man who stole your mother's skin took yours as well? You took a human for a mate?" she replied as she reached for the fish offered to her, wincing slightly as the movement pulled on the stitches that ran across her hip.

"How long have you been trapped Dorian Drake?" she asked between bites, hungrily downing the raw fish as a loud rumble of thunder rolled up from the lake. Outside the wind had begun to blow more earnestly.