#odyssey

"It's... what? Five hours drive to the ocean? Pick some quaint little Hallmark-movie beach town with apple festivals and a 'cove' and far too much enthusiasm over Christmas and they'd be set."

"Hell, we know a realtor who would probably drool to help that happen"

"We do!"

"I am looking at Syracuse, that ain't too far..."

"Almost spitting distance"

"Mom and Dad want me to go to college."

"Course they do, parents are wired funny like that. I actually have the baron kind of pushing that... I suppose I could take animal studies"

"I did think about maybe just going to trade school, get some certifications..."

'Well, we both have time to think about it"

"Exactly."

"Heck, we're younger than those old fogey wilders at Rivervale" A joke "most of them anyway"

"Most of them, yeah. Dee talks them up, but I haven't seen much of it yet. Sylvi seemed okay?"

"Gerd's decent. She and Wudlig are a thing, seems to be a bit to Witchcore to me but meh"

"Sylvi's all right.. Some great make up tips on her youtube channel, she even does stuff for girls of color"

"Yeah? I'll have to check it out. me, I like the fun makeup..."

"She did have a pride month make up session that was pretty colorful"

A smile 'Nothing as cool as your swirls though"

She touches her cheeks, then sort of shrug-smiles.

Meanwhile, Art had wandered and was talking with other Redfins. Drumming up support, perhaps? Not everyone looks pleased, but most at least are willing to listen to him, and those that aren't, he moved on.

At some unseen signal, perhaps the sun's position in the sky, folk start turning towards the meeting area.

Thistle is lead forward, to join Saoirse on the stage - alongside Omario.

Art stands nearby, sticking close to Gwen.

Thistle squares her scrawny shoulders, and tries to look tall and confident.

Gladiola IS tall, and yes, appears confident

She looks like a wiry little goblin - if anything even more 'nockerish' than she had as a fledge. Because, well, that's what she is. A creature of fire and metal and glorious creation and epic frustration amongst these graceful beings of wave and water.

The Chieftess gathers attention on her, then announces, "Mainlander Thistlethwaite has come to challenge for the right to return the Leanbh-cailín, of our blood and hers, to her coldwater Barony of Apples. Redfin Omario, protector of our island and our ways, warrior of our clan, and claiming blood tied with hers, defends the babe's right to stay with her clan and the sea."

"There will be a series of Three Trials - of Courage, of Wit, and of Skill. As we trust Fate to rule in favor of the worthy, champions may be appointed by either Challenger or Defender.

The first challenge will be of Courage. Have your Champions step forward.."

Omario takes a step at that, standing tall and proud. "I will fight my own battle."

Art poke Gwen in the arm, though it's not necessary. "Go to, warrior." He whispers in an encouraging tone- and adds, "Let him choose first... then, follow my lead. Trust me!"

A step forward "I will fight the challenge of Courage as Champion of Thistlethwaite and her sister"

Saoirse looks to Thistle. "Do you accept this Champion?"

"I do, Chieftess Redfin."

"Do you have any issue with the Champion chosen?" She asks Omario, and he shakes his head. "None."

Saoirse looks over Dame Gladiola, and nods. "You must agree on the field and form of the battle. Dame Gladiola, as Challenger, you may have first choice, or deed this to your opponent."

"I deed first choice to my opponent" She says and trusts in Arthur's plan

Omario's eyes gleam with triumph, and it's clear he thinks her a fool as he responds, "How gracious. I will choose, then. Let the field be water - deep, and true." He extends an arm, pointing not to the shore where Gwen wrestled Aoife, but out to the middle of the lake - practically an inland sea.

The water is dark, and goes to depths unknown.

A nod, well, she won't be wearing armor, that's for sure

"So be it"

Saoirse's eyes narrow at this choice, and she looks back at Gladiola, her expression asking, 'Are you sure'?

But, her response is accepted. "Then Dame Gladiola may choose the form of battle. We have seen you wrestle. Or, you wield a spear-"

Art steps forward and interrupts in a clear voice that carries. "Fin! She chooses a battle of fins."

"Fin, the battle of fins" A nod What the fucck does that even mean??

Omario coughs and speaks up, "I will gladly fight her in my alterform. Sadly, she will go into battle unarmed."

"If it were a battle of swords, or spears, one would be provided. Lady - I mean, Chieftess Saoirse, you proclaimed earlier that your people are wise and skilled in magic. I have spoken with many of the Redfin, and found one that agreed."

A sputter from Omario, "You cannot! It is impossible to share a skin so-"

Art politely waits for the man's rant to die out. Then answers, "Maybe so, but Metamorphosis is an Art that can be used by ANY."

A brow lift at Art

Thistle's grin in full of shark's teeth.

An Elderly selkie gentleman, one of many that Art spoke with earlier, steps forward - grizzled with age, but still strong. "I will give her fins she can use for this battle, never you fear, lad. Or is it a fair fight that you fear?" The elder prods verbally at Omario.

The crowd murmurs, a growing excitement.

"I thank you, Elder and will trust my form to your care"

Omario turns and marches to the beach, clearly displeased.

“Come, Challengers. You may watch from the shore, aboard a boat, or entrust yourself to us for your safety to watch from the water.”

Saiorse manages to maintain a calm demeanor, but is clearly curious- or concerned.

Gladiola looks at Art, "Pretty sneaky, art. I'm going to tear him a new hole" She assures them both , then moves to the beach

"From the water, please. I... I trust you. Because if I can't trust you, then this whole challenge would be a farce, wouldn't it? She says to Saiorse.