2 Voice
#2 of Voice
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The mountain was to the west, Giarien knew. In the forest, the foliage was too thick to see the great stony mass well. She had to look to tree moss for north and then reason that west was to the right. Still, she did not much like being so far from her home. She lived in the peaceful part of the forest, and the further she travelled, the more dangerous things would get.
She made haste, for the journey was long. The voice had said it could last two days before running out of air, but this was surely a ballpark assumption. Even so, she had left at midday, so she hoped that it would still be alive the midday after two nights.
At sunset, Giarien finally decided to rest. She puffed out a spark to get a fire going. She ate the dried fruits and breads that she brought with her as she reveled in its light and warmth. Her legs were sore from the brisk pace she had set. She stretched her wings out, stiff from being kept in one position for most of that day. If only she were a flying creature, she could arrive there much more swiftly!
What kind of creature was the voice? A flying creature, or earthbound like her? She had often wondered this before. Perhaps a spirit who had been cursed? It must be a powerful creature to project so far to her. It definitely had magic. She assumed that as it talked, it inadvertently broadcasted the sounds telepathically. Dragons were sensitive to magic, so she had been receiving the signals even from so far away.
Screeching from the forest reminded her of the dangers, and she reluctantly put the fire out. She did not want to draw too much attention to herself. She saw a tall deciduous tree and began hauling herself up it, digging her claws into the bark. Luckily her bones were light, as her ancestors had been of the flying variety. The sun had already set, but her mediocre night vision was just enough for her to manage not falling. The treetops should be safe.
She halted in the sturdy branches, not wanting to pursue the high and dangerously thin type. She tied her bag to a branch and let it hang. She pulled her cloak closer to her body, wishing she had brought a blanket in all her hurry. Perching, she gazed down at the forest. She could vaguely see the demarcation where the trees abruptly became a large expanse of bone-white stones. The expanse was at the foot of the mountain, which stretched high above the tree she was in.
It was silent. Cricket-season had passed, leaving the air empty. Whatever the beasts had been howling about before, it had ceased to be. Perhaps they had caught whatever they had been hunting. Drowsily, Giarien sang:
Hues and hues and hues The sky is bleeding bloody blues The sun is drowning in the earth And here you sit lacking self-worth
Feet dangling limp in reverie
At ridge of mountain tall Idle wondering not yet abridged Imagining what it's like to fall
You thought that you'd be wrought full And full of holes and glue You hoped that you'd just rot here A caricature you
Hues and hues and hues End the days you rue
The sky is bleeding Bloody blues Nature's ode to you
"You have a lovely voice."
Giarien spun around, almost falling off of her branch. She came face-to-face with a large-eyed avian. He was almost indistinguishable from the air of the night, but she could make out the white circular patterns on his feathers. Giarien had always had terrible night-vision for a dragon. "Who are you?" she asked.
"The name is Hunter. And you, my lady?"
"Giarien."
"Ah, Giarien, an elegant name for an elegant dragoness." The avian fanned out his wings dramatically. "What brings one like you to this side of the forest?"
"I'm just travelling through."
"Oh? Where are you headed? I can escort you to the Avian village to the east. I was just returning from a hunting trip when I saw you up here in the branches." Indeed, Giarien then noticed that he had a bag of what she supposed was prey.
"I'm fine. I'm headed to the mountain."
Hunter raised a dubious brow. "The mountain? I certainly wouldn't expect a lady to travel to such a dangerous place."
Giarien sighed. "Neither did I to be honest. It's a bit silly, but I'm freeing the voice."
Hunter's brow raised even further. "The voice?"
"Well, perhaps avians can't hear it, but I have a high-sensitivity to such things. There is a prisoner in the mountain, and when they speak I hear every word. They are suffocating, and I have decided to free them."
"A prisoner in the mountain! Why, I have heard of no such thing, and I have lived in these lands for my whole life. How peculiar you dragons are. I can't allow a lady to go to the mountains alone, however. There are many dangers."
"I am aware, but it is something that needs to be done."
"I shall accompany you then. I will meet you here before sunrise, but first I must drop off this prey to my village. Adieu!" Before she could protest, Hunter leaped off the branch and glided, toting his bag of prizes with him. So it seemed she would not make the journey alone.