The Talon and the Strider

[hazlogs]

[October 25, 1997]

Southern Curve of the Wheel
A whisper of wind and a glimmer of light, one behind and the other ahead, 
  bring a faint tingle to your senses. Ahead, light reflects somberly off a 
  clear pool of water, while behind air swirls and stirs the leaves of trees. 
  A pathway of soft dirt winds between the two and south, off the wheel.
Contents:
Nikolai
Stormcloud
Obvious exits:
Pool  Windy Spot  Center of the Wheel  South  

Meretseger tilts her head. ~One must learn to see oneself without biases.~
Stormcloud looks evenly at Mer. ~But can one truly ever do that?~
Meretseger utters a dry chuckle. ~You begin to see the difficulty of the hunt. 
  And why silence is necessary.~
Nikolai says "It sounds like walkabout or something like that."
Meretseger mms. ~That is one path, yes.~
Stormcloud looks at Mer quizzically. ~Why would one want to pursue himself, 
  anyway?~
Meretseger says, ~Those who do not know themselves are easy prey for the Wyrm, 
  cub.~
Stormcloud says, ~This one refuses to be prey. Can Meretseger help this one?~~
Nikolai says "I'm not so sure if it would always be a good idea to know one's 
  self."
Meretseger glances scornfully at Nikolai. ~Are you afraid?~
Nikolai says "No."
Nikolai says "Actually yes, but not to the point where I wouldn't want to find 
  out."
Stormcloud watches the conversation, only understanding some of what Nik says.
Meretseger turns back to the young Talon. ~I can assist. Ultimately, I cannot 
  lead you to the prey. I can only help you find the spoor.~
Stormcloud chuffs. ~This one had already assumed as much. This one would be 
  honored to be taught by Meretseger.~
Nikolai pets Stormcloud.
Meretseger chuckles softly. ~Ask your teacher first. I would not wish to 
  invade the territory of Swipes at Salmon.~
Stormcloud rumbles in appreciation.
Stormcloud smirks in his lupine way. ~None do. Of course this one will ask.~
Meretseger offers up a ghost of a smile and straightens. ~Then I wish you good 
  luck, and Gaia's speed on your hunt, cub. All your hunts.~ That said, the 
  Strider slips back off into the woods.