Tuesday, March 13, 2007

the wild night is calling

Last night, the lovely Victorian fellow asked if I wished to see Caledon Tanglewood. I told him, being fresh out of the wilds of Lumindor, that I wasn't dressed in an appropriate fashion, and he laughed, saying, it's Tanglewood, it's a forest, what's appropriate?

So I showed up in purple fur draped in a scarcity of ornate elven armor, and it must be said, I doubt he minded.

But he asked where we should begin the exploration of the great woods, and my wandering eye caught a manically spinning set of silks, and...my neko nature, for the first time, nearly took over. I wanted to leap and bound over to the silks and POUNCE upon them, batting at them until they were completely conquered. My brain was screaming CAT TOY CAT TOY CAT TOY and it was all I could do not to start clawing and twitching.

Rarely have I had so intense a reaction. Either Lumindor's getting to me, or...the pookah who turned out to own the spinning silks enchanted them against kittens. Very surprising.

At some point, the conversation turned to how fast said pookah could run, and he invited us to view the inside of his home, a hollowed-out trunk of a giant birch. I felt gargantuan in his abode, and immediately sought a smaller form myself. Nothing like the pookah's foot-tall white rabbit...but the closest I could come.

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My fae clocks in at exactly three feet tall, from her low-booted feet to brilliant scarlet hair. I still towered over the small Tanglewoodland mammal, but I felt more at ease.

Tanglewood, I think, needs additional viewings. The homes seen there are sweeping arborial structures, elegant and precise, rounded platforms and struts affixed to gargantuan trees. The air is quiet, without being still; fireflies and insects flutter on colorful wings.

The pookah I mentioned...a certain EllisDee Welindor, if I recall correctly. Very amusing fellow and a collage artist of some surpassing skill, and something of a wordsmith. We wandered around his hollow while I was endeavoring not to pounce on his silks, and spoke for some small time about tricksters, the woods, shapeshifting and art.

He gave me one of his pieces, and an accompanying poem. I'm completely whelmed. Though my tree in Lumindor has no flat places for art--being a tree--I leaned it against a column, and I'm thinking of leaving it there.

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I think it looks very nice in my tree. I must find a way to thank him for the gift.

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