(( OOC: Tenn is a non-combatant, so this expedition is for finding food, field research, and making friends with the locals! Feel free to reply in prose or brackets if you like, I’ll match. )) -
I. Taking Notes on the Way:
Since the faerie dogs were found, Tenn had been curious about the river. Particularly what grew around it, and if any similar creatures lived in the area. He wakes up early on the morning of the expedition, coming into the north Plaza to collect supplies. His own goal is clear: to explore the route and take notes on what they find. Information is something they all desperately need, and he’ll feel much better about staying here once he knows the area.
Seeing the condition of the boats, Tenn opts to walk - he is a city boy, after all, and the grass is much easier on his feet than concrete. It’s pleasant traveling. Warm weather, not too cold in the morning – the opposite of the frigid winter he’d left behind in the waking world. His cape is soon off, enjoying the breeze through his sweater.
Strolling along the river bank, he gazes into the forest to enjoy the sights. Small squirrels with tufted ears make him smile, and there are birds with long tails in fantastic colors. Occasionally he catches a flash of light from little lizards that shine like gems. A lot of prey animals run freely in this area, and Tenn interprets that to mean it’s safe here for now. A tapir he spoke to before leaving advised him not to camp by the lakeside after dark; Tenn intends to heed the warning.
Soon a suede journal and quill appear in his hands, and Tenn busies himself with sketching plants he comes across: a dandelion-like flower resembling a pink pompom, a silky blue-flowered vine, a fern with an autumn golden glow... and something green and lumpy that looks suspiciously like broccoli.
“Ugh…” Tenn gives it the barest line art before moving on.
II. Lakeside A Cappella:
As the river splits and splits again, Tenn decides a better guide than the rough map and ‘keep left’ would be nice. When snatches of song from the water catch his attention. Tenn sings the notes back, and soon gains an entourage of leaping, singing fish guiding him to the lake.
It’s a beautiful place – so clear as to mirror the sky. There’s the childish urge to kick off his boots and go play, but the fish waste no time ushering him to have seat by the lakeside. The water stirs and Tenn’s breath catches as the nymphs surface to look at him with dark eyes. Fortunately, his fears are allayed when they gather by the shore to greet him and hear more songs. It’s all very surreal, but Tenn can’t help but oblige.
For such an unusual audience, he sticks to well-loved classics that are catchy and can be carried well by his stage trained voice, from favorite musicals to poems and nursery rhymes. He even learns a few new songs, joins in choruses, and stumbles over strange words. The water nymphs and fish call for more, and when Tenn mentions he’s supposed to be gathering food right now, toss clams and mussels at him to urge him to stay. It’s better than coins in a hat as far as he’s concerned, and he’s happy to entertain for as long as the day and his voice allows. (And is open to requests, should anyone have one. Though he might roll his eyes if you ask for Under the Sea.)
Later, Tenn indulges himself with removing his shoes and soaking his feet in the cool water, with a satisfied stretch, and a full basket of food next to him. “It’s been a while since I fixed clams. I’ll have to remember how to steam them properly.”
III. The Sparkling Stream
Tired come late afternoon, Tenn is content to rest in a rowboat for the final survey before heading back. He’s a bit anxious after the water nymphs confirmed that he doesn’t want to be here come nightfall when the predators emerge, but agreed to explore a little further. What he didn’t expect was to be sidetracked by an odd white stream curving away from the lake into the woods.
Soon, Tenn’s eyebrows draw together in worry. His cape is back on as a chill wind blows from further along the stream, and when white begins to speckle the grass on either bank, Tenn lowers his notebook to his lap. He reaches out a hand to give pause to the person directing their course.
“This place seems like it’s under an enchantment.”
A Day Trip to the Lake
-
I. Taking Notes on the Way:
Since the faerie dogs were found, Tenn had been curious about the river. Particularly what grew around it, and if any similar creatures lived in the area. He wakes up early on the morning of the expedition, coming into the north Plaza to collect supplies. His own goal is clear: to explore the route and take notes on what they find. Information is something they all desperately need, and he’ll feel much better about staying here once he knows the area.
Seeing the condition of the boats, Tenn opts to walk - he is a city boy, after all, and the grass is much easier on his feet than concrete. It’s pleasant traveling. Warm weather, not too cold in the morning – the opposite of the frigid winter he’d left behind in the waking world. His cape is soon off, enjoying the breeze through his sweater.
Strolling along the river bank, he gazes into the forest to enjoy the sights. Small squirrels with tufted ears make him smile, and there are birds with long tails in fantastic colors. Occasionally he catches a flash of light from little lizards that shine like gems. A lot of prey animals run freely in this area, and Tenn interprets that to mean it’s safe here for now. A tapir he spoke to before leaving advised him not to camp by the lakeside after dark; Tenn intends to heed the warning.
Soon a suede journal and quill appear in his hands, and Tenn busies himself with sketching plants he comes across: a dandelion-like flower resembling a pink pompom, a silky blue-flowered vine, a fern with an autumn golden glow... and something green and lumpy that looks suspiciously like broccoli.
“Ugh…” Tenn gives it the barest line art before moving on.
II. Lakeside A Cappella:
As the river splits and splits again, Tenn decides a better guide than the rough map and ‘keep left’ would be nice. When snatches of song from the water catch his attention. Tenn sings the notes back, and soon gains an entourage of leaping, singing fish guiding him to the lake.
It’s a beautiful place – so clear as to mirror the sky. There’s the childish urge to kick off his boots and go play, but the fish waste no time ushering him to have seat by the lakeside. The water stirs and Tenn’s breath catches as the nymphs surface to look at him with dark eyes. Fortunately, his fears are allayed when they gather by the shore to greet him and hear more songs. It’s all very surreal, but Tenn can’t help but oblige.
For such an unusual audience, he sticks to well-loved classics that are catchy and can be carried well by his stage trained voice, from favorite musicals to poems and nursery rhymes. He even learns a few new songs, joins in choruses, and stumbles over strange words. The water nymphs and fish call for more, and when Tenn mentions he’s supposed to be gathering food right now, toss clams and mussels at him to urge him to stay. It’s better than coins in a hat as far as he’s concerned, and he’s happy to entertain for as long as the day and his voice allows. (And is open to requests, should anyone have one. Though he might roll his eyes if you ask for Under the Sea.)
Later, Tenn indulges himself with removing his shoes and soaking his feet in the cool water, with a satisfied stretch, and a full basket of food next to him. “It’s been a while since I fixed clams. I’ll have to remember how to steam them properly.”
III. The Sparkling Stream
Tired come late afternoon, Tenn is content to rest in a rowboat for the final survey before heading back. He’s a bit anxious after the water nymphs confirmed that he doesn’t want to be here come nightfall when the predators emerge, but agreed to explore a little further. What he didn’t expect was to be sidetracked by an odd white stream curving away from the lake into the woods.
Soon, Tenn’s eyebrows draw together in worry. His cape is back on as a chill wind blows from further along the stream, and when white begins to speckle the grass on either bank, Tenn lowers his notebook to his lap. He reaches out a hand to give pause to the person directing their course.
“This place seems like it’s under an enchantment.”