#baronyofthesilverwolf

“Only in their dreams,”

"I'm not cold. Not a hothouse rose, yeah?" A touch cautious, with a hopeful note.

"I am a little cold." He says, and draws her to his side and puts an arm around her, tentatively.

"Oh. Oh."

She leans against him - more sharp angles than soft edges, but she also runs like a furnace. (Or, perhaps, a kiln.)

"Is this okay?" He asks, uncertainly.

He can feel her nod. "Yeah. We oughtta work on that ship. Been researching aether tech, things that'll work in the Dreaming..."

"Ever thought of balloons?" He ponders. His own hand is comfortably warm where is rests around her waist.

"Zeppelins."

"What's the difference?" He asks, so naive. Not realizing the gateway to rant he may be opening... or rather, not caring, comfortably eager to hear her expound on her theories.

"Oh! Huge differences in durability, but more important, navigation..." And we're off to the races.

Did Art want to know about wind currents? He'll learn.

Pet theory on steering systems and rudders?

Did Art want to spend time with Thistle? He does!

Gondola amenities?

One Bubblegum hued Never tries to grasp these concepts. THe poor Chimera collides into a mustard yellow Never as that's just too much thought to do at once WHILE flying

She does let go of his hand a few times, because gesticulation is required to visually illustrate what she's on about.

He watches, enthralled. Art even has a few questions that aren't completely asinine as one might expect of a layman!

But all in all - a pleasant evening spent?

A very pleasant evening - and likely to set off a LOT of sketching, which may or may not happen in the library, later.

As well it should be!

----scene----

MEANWHILE....

Before the effect of Gwennie's cookie has faded, she finds herself with some time free. Perhaps it will last a minute longer, perhaps an hour, perhaps an evening - the dreaming is fickle.

She may choose to seek out other residents of Silverwolf, though not knowing how long her current form may last.

Or, thinking back... she may consider previous interactions with friends or acquaintances, and see if she might have new insight!

A selfish side of her wonders if maybe she could learn more about how David feels about HER? I sound like one of those shallow bitches on a CW show. Why doesn't he notice ME? When I should be strong and not need anyone, like one of those shallow bitches on a CW show

In her head, she's hilarious

But the boggan looks to seek out david it seems the obvious is easier with OTHER people though

Gwennie can seek out David, who is currently residing with Eridanus the living sentinel. If she travels hence, she may assume that she will not return back to the hold, ere the cookie's power wears off.

Mmmph

She has a lot of folks she'd like to study to be honest, and it seems any choice might limit it. Still, she agreed to look after things and... a thought hits her. She gathers some fine soil, puts it in a jar, a few rocks, semi precious stones. Neither Eridanus, nor David have to eat ,she doesn't think, but maybe a token would be appreciated? And yes, she makes some sandwiches albiet hastily to bring them. Soil and regular food alike. Let's see how it works

The path to the Quarry is quiet, the air still in the early evening. Gladiola - no, Gwennie’s footsteps crunch softly over gravel and stone, echoing as she descends the narrow, spiraling stairway that leads to Eridanus’s cavern. The lake above casts a faint shimmer through tiny cracks in the stone ceiling, dappling the cavern walls with shifting patterns of light and shadow. Without Thistle present, the runes for light do not illuminate, but there are lanterns she can bring with her.

The air is cool and damp, smelling of minerals and rich soil.

The chamber where Eridanus yet resides is vast, with the sentinel still at it's heart, half submerged in the cool pool. His "eyes," faintly glowing with a steady blue light.

David is seated on the 'shore', talking quietly with the living statue. As Gwennie approaches, he stands and shifts his gaze over, on guard against the unfamiliar figure?

"You tread on protected ground, stranger. Few know this place, and fewer still arrive unannounced. State your purpose, please."

At one time, while a troll, this display of dedication to his guarding duties would have wowed her. Now it seems a bit ... much. Holy snot, no WONDER I get on Thistle and Art's nerves sometimes with the 'advance and be recognized attitude' She actually fights a chuckle as she thinks about it, but she does respect it, and it's needful, "I know you have little reason to believe me, but I'm Gwenni..err Gwen. Dame Gladiola? I have been... temporarily changed to a boggan." SHe taps at her stone skin "I thought I'd come by and check on you two, and maybe offer you some regular food and..well" A blush "Soil and rocks?"

"I thought , while I don't expect either of you to eat rocks, that a few semi precious stones and soil from home would at least be a nice symbol of Silver wolf's support, and well, the sandwiches are just sandwiches .,.. for those I brought a Peanut Butter and Jelly, and a ham and cheese"

David’s stance relaxes slightly at Gwennie’s explanation, though his gaze remains steady on her. His expression doesn’t change, but Gwennie’s keen boggan insight reveals a flicker of recognition and a subtle pleasure at her words, particularly her mention of the stones and soil. He nods once, his voice calm but now less guarded.

"Dame Gladiola. Forgive my hesitation; your form is changed, but your essence remains unmistakable. The strength of your stone skin marks you as yourself, steadfast and enduring, as ever. A temporary transformation cannot diminish your true nature."

He steps forward, glancing at the jar of soil and stones with something close to reverence. Though he does not express it outwardly, Gwennie senses his appreciation for the thoughtful gesture—a quiet acknowledgment of the connection it represents.

"These tokens are fitting. Stones carry the weight of memory, and soil cradles the roots of life. You honor this place and its guardian."

He pauses, eyeing the sandwiches with a trace of bemusement, then inclines his head.

"And though sustenance is not our need, the offering itself is generous. A thoughtful touch, as expected of one such as you."

Eridanus remains silent as David speaks, his immense form unmoving in the pool save for the faint glow in his eyes, which shifts subtly as if studying her.

"You have come from Silverwolf. Tell me... of Art, and of Thistle. How do they fare?"

His words are few, but Gwennie’s boggan insight senses an undercurrent of emotion beneath his stoic exterior. Though he does not say it outright, there is a yearning in his question—something tender, almost childlike. It is not merely curiosity but a quiet need, a longing to connect with those who have touched his existence - especially Thistle.

Gwen beams more openly than she would as a boggan, then when Eridanus speaks with such warmth, well, she's wondering for details but mostly touched.

"Where to begin? First, Thank you, David. You're a sweetie to say so" That blurt slipped, "And I trust you to put the stones and soil serve even if the sandwiches might not be needful. " A look to Eridanus, "Oh, she is currently in a temporary change of her point of view too, somehwat, but she's still Thistle. She and Art are enjoying the day together, but she hopes you're doing well. We all do. "

"You do us a kindness by braving the journey here, Dame Gladiola. Please, join us. The air and the stone may feel heavy to some, but I believe you will find a certain... resonance in their presence."

Gwennie senses David’s admiration. Where others might react to her outer stone skin with confusion or unease, he sees it as a marvel—a strength he respects deeply. Though, he seems to be a little uncertain, glancing up at where she would normally reach almost eye to eye - perhaps, missing her Trollish height and stature.

Eridanus remains silent during this exchange, his glowing eyes steady as they observe Gwennie. To Gladiola the troll, he might be unnerving - silent, motionless, staring. Though his expression does not - perhaps cannot? change, Gwennie’s intuition picks up on his quiet approval of David’s invitation. There is a sense that her presence brings him pleasure. Perhaps a pang of guilt - how long has he sat here alone since awakening?

She smiles "I'll turn to a troll soon again I think... and while i loved connecting with my mother, I am looking forward to it." She joins them properly

As Gwennie settles near them, David gives her a small nod, and takes up a position nearer the door. It is smooth and without thought, but Gwennie realizes that this is how others see, or rather don't notice, Trolls. Stoicly being on guard and providing protection, even though most take it for granted.

"I have been sharing stories with Eridanus. My knowledge of modern... 'meat person' culture, as you call it, is limited. But the old tales—the ones shaped in stone and etched in memory—those, I know well." David shares.

Gwennie again notices the subtle glance upward, where her usual height would place her, and senses David’s slight uncertainty—perhaps even a wistful longing for the presence she commands as a Troll.

"I was never taught... stories."

There’s a long, heavy pause, before the sentinel finishes the thought.

"It is... good."

She nods "I have an Eshu friend. Oh I wish he were here. He could tell you such stories of all sorts."