#odyssey

Gwen may need guidance but thanks folks

Art is just back from washing his face when they are interrupted by little Louis calling through the window. "Judge, he say you come. Get your breakfast and be walking n' riding, the sun is up and the time is come."

Brow?

"Her" lizards have wandered off except for one fat one that is curled on her lap, and seeking scraps of saltfish.

A rather pretty thing with irridescent green scales speckled with orange.

Gwen rises and gets ready to go "If he says it's time it's time"

A tongue flicks Thistle's wrist.

Citrine is tasting a banana fritter dipped in guava juice.

Art blinks, grabs a pastry in a napkin, and is tying his shoes!

The lizard if treated some scraps, and she snags a fritter for the road!

The lizard tries to follow, but it ambles on short legs, and is left behind.

They are led to a jeep driven by a teenager who looks them over curiously. His skin is middling dark, not nearly as deep as Judge, but definitely still an islander cast, and his hair, cropped short, has a hint of red to the tight curls. There is a red curling wave tattoo just visible behind one ear.

"I'm to fetch you alla way to meet Mama Saoirse. You can call me Seamus."

Little Louis hops onto the back step, clearly looking to ride along.

"Thank you for your service, Seamus"

"Hey Seamus. Thank you."

"You must be someone special. Ain't many mainlanders get to go where we going."

He observes as they start driving.

Headed inland, and the road turns to a trail, and starts to slope up. They pass signs stating they are entering an exclusion zone, but other than the man-made markers, it seems just as lush and welcoming as the rest of the island. Up, up the mountain they drive.

She shrugs. "The Judge is doing us a solid."

"Judge is solid. Not kin, but she trusts him, so we trust him." Seamus remarks.

The sound of chirping birds and rustlings trees surrounds them, and at one point, the jeep stops to let a small pack of wild boar amble across the road. A big sow watches them go until the last piglet has crossed, then follows her sounder.

"Fair. What's Mama Saoirse like?"

A nod of respect to the sow, even if Pigs are some of the worst of the colonizers

"She's ancient, for a sele'. Some argue she needs to step down. She says she will when she can no longer swim, sing, and fight." His voice is proud.

"Sounds kind of badass, to me."

"I agree, but I'm not in line to inherit from her, so maybe I have different opinion."

"Right. No dog in the race."

He glances back at them curiously as he drives.

"Who is in line? " curious "ANd how will she decide? must be hard"

"The owner gets a say, mama Saoirse gets a say, and if they can't decide over qualified choices, then there is a competition, winner takes all. Fate guides the worthy to victory."

"Normally they pick an heir early on to stop any fightin' or feuding, but it still happens. Me, I don't want to see my uncle pass, he still strong and brave, but someday, his skin come to me." Clearly eager, yet a little sad.

"That's... yeah. Bittersweet."

"Your Uncle trusts you to do it honor when your time comes, that's a great but heavy trust" A nod

He nods, and they come over a ridge, showing what lies on the other side... within the crater, lies a series of pools, down below - one big enough to be called lakes.

There are a few that are surrounded by steaming vents, at least one an alarming orangish tone, but the largest is cool and blue, a lovely spot surrounded by the rising green hills - completely hidden from view of the little tourist town on the other side of the island.

"This is Caldera Glade. Our Freehold."

The glamour below is natural, and strong.

"It's beautiful!"

"It's like a piece of heaven"

"Wi." He agrees. "It is ours, and it is safe, and free."

He parks the jeep. "We walk down, from here."

"Citrine, don't fly too far or you'll get lost."

She takes the fishing spear but says "Should I leave this outside then?"

Within the caldera, wildlife is even more abundant. Yellow and black birds twitter and fly in flocks, and the croaking of frogs is heard from the damp glens. Seamus points them out. "Those are Montserrat Orioles. And there," A brown and white speckled lizard on a vine, "A galliwasp. You hear the mountain chicken, he sings in his throat." Nodding to the deep croaking.

To Gwen, he considers, then warns, "No hunting here. All those I name? Critically endangered."

A tortoise lumbers across their path paying no mind, and Art startles as a tarantula the size of his fist scuttles along a nearby branch.

Citrine is buzzing around excitedly, sticking her head into large and fragrant pink blossoms that cover the ground like a carpet in spots.

"Just... (*&^%^&, the colors.... I'd need to do a copper sulfate, maybe, if I wanted to capture.... maybe if I used...." Muttering to herself about pigment!

"Not hunting" A nod

They head down the trail, and soon they see activity below. A gathering of people at the side of the clear lake - which isn't quite clear after all, the water glistens and ripples - a school of shimmering fish, and - seals! Seals, all along the shore. Five, ten, a dozen, more, hauled out and sunning on sun-warmed rocks, half-grown splashing in the shallows, diving and playing in the water. Among them, walking as easily as though they were lapdogs instead of the massive mammals they are, are people - dark skinned and pale and every shade in between, but most leaning to an averaged cocoa brown.

Thistle is alert - looking, specifically, for a babe-in-arms, for a swaddled bundle, for a carry basket...

Gwen keeps her guard up, looking for the same. The sound of a babe crying or the like

"It's weird seeing, like, all just one..."

A soft snort to herself, amused. "Imagine, like, a sea-lion pooka..."

"oh, I haven't seen one, but I've heard of them.. dolphin pooka too"

Seals! That's one thing that was visibly NOT noticeable outside on the island. The beaches they passed on the outskirts of the island when approaching had seabirds, shorebirds, crabs and turtles, all sorts of wildlife - even a few manatees off the shore. But not a single seal seen, outside of this lake.

They notice that most of the seals have reddish marks somewhere on their fur. Just a little spot here or there, to Chimerical eyes. Many of the people sport the redfin tattoo - at least those who have it in a visible spot. A child that goes running by giggling has a smudged version on her arm, maybe she did that herself in marker.

A moment of observation shows that the people who aren't wandering amongst the seals are gathered loosely around an older woman, tall and slender, her hair gone to grey, but with a strength about her. Her redfin mark is proudly displayed on her chest, right below the hollow of her throat, where all can see it. She looks vaguely familiar...

"That is Mama Saoirse." Seamus offers helpfully. "Be POLITE." He advises.

A tall man stands at her side - they recognize HIM from the pictures with Janice. The redfin mark carved in his bicep is also a dead giveaway, though it didn't show up in the mortal pictures. She also is holding a small bundle that wriggles, a fat cocoa colored fist waving, and gripping one of the woman's fingers.