[Modded Thread] Welcome To My Web

[Translucent]

41st Winter 513

The pavilion was quiet for once, as the winter day drew on. The children had chores to attend to, the adults as well, and the lone person in the pavilion had saw to it that they were gone for a few hours. Brennar Moonrunner sat in the middle, a brazier lit for warmth in front of him and another -now empty- cushion of deep amethyst laid beside him on the ground.

His dark hair was tied severely back from his face, showing off his windmarks that lined the right side of his face in distinct patterns that looked oddly like a glassbeak claw mark. Perhaps he had chosen that design to match the left side of his face that had a true scar, down the side barely missing his eye. His face was lined with care, but was soft enough so that he appeared approachable and kind.

This is a good thing for he was one of the Amethyst clan premier webbers, working the weave for hunters, and families. Drykas trusted him to help them with their troubles in things that the web might be. He is also known to help mentor Amethyst clan members into their first few forays into the web. That is what he is waiting on now, and he is preparing.

He had crafted an Origin rune, though he had already had one tied to this area, he wanted to show it to Arundel when she came. For now he pulled into himself, closing his mind from the outside world, breathing slowly in through the nose, and out through the mouth. It is easy, so easy for him to slip into this sight where all is brightly lit by the beauty of the webs. The cord that tied him to the web, a wrist-thick silvery cord pulsed gently and he smiled as he pulled a little more of his own djed into his palm.

Gently he stretched and wove it around the new origin, it was short, tied now to the greater web waiting for the introduction. Reluctantly he pulled himself out of the web, back into his body, and for just a short moment his eyes remain closed before he opened them. As always, when he returned to the physical realm there was a sense of disappointment, of being so limited.

[Arundel]

"I know that you've been wanting to be taught the ways of Webbing. I'm sorry I haven't been able to do so myself, but with mentoring the boys and running the pavilion, it's been hard to even consider finding the time," her Ankal had said the previous night as they all ate dinner. Arundel had frowned and set her plate in her lap. It was convenient for matters such as this that Nathan didn't know Pavi, else mentioning the Web in front of him would be out of the question. For discretion's sake, her father had gestured the sign that meant Web, completely omitting the need for its verbal twin. The Syliran barely paid attention from where he sat near the fire with the rest of the family. "I spoke to an old friend of mine - an expert in the art. His name is Brennar Moonrunner, and he's of our clan. You remember his family, yes?" She'd nodded at that.

"People think his daughters will be some of the best seamstresses we have," Arundel explained. It was her Ankal's turn to nod. "He's agreed to mentor you and introduce you to the Wed." She had assumed that this was where the conversation was heading, but even prepared, hearing the words made her heart excellerate. Finally! She'd wished to learn their ancient art for years, but had never found the time or been given a proper opportunity. Every Drykas knew of the network of djed that blanketed spanned Cyphrus, but not all of them understood it intimately or had the ability to consciously join with it.

So the next day she found herself approaching the large Moonrunner pavilion, each step causing her apprehension to mount and her nerves to fray. What will it be like? Will I be able to do it? The thought of failing made her want to turn and run like a dog with its tail between its legs. Arundel had wanted this for years, and here was her opportunity at last. Hesitant fingers pulled back the entrance of the pavilion, and before she could convince herself to flee, she squared her shoulders and went inside. It was quiet in the large tent - empty save for one lone figure perched on a cushion on the ground. She had happened upon Brennar moments before he disengaged from the Web and returned to his physical shell. In that short breath Arundel approached him, realizing she recognized him from the times they had met in passing.

The scar and Windmarks were what jogged her memory, and the respect she had felt for him as a youngster came rushing back. He was a survivor and a man that people could easily look to. Many relied on his skills at weaving the djed that tied them to the land. Pride swelled in his breast, knowing that this man was to be her mentor. Her father had chosen a fine Drykas to do so. As Brennar's eyes opened and laid upon her - for he had appeared to be sleeping - Arundel signed greetings, bowing her head respectfully. Her hair, now finally long enough, was braided into a knot at the base of her skull. Tendrils of curls fell out and framed her face, since the longest pieces were still only just past her shoulders. She was proud that her mother was able to weave her hair for this occasion, at least partially.

[Translucent]

Brennar blinked slowly to re-acclimate his eye site to the now seemingly dark reality, smiling immediately when he registered the appearance of Arundel. He too signed a quick greeting in pavi, his hands reinforcing the notion of warmth and happiness, "Come sit with me Arundel. I trust your family is well today?" His hands flowed easily and rapidly through the pavi, and even managed to slip in a gesture to the amethyst pillow provided for her comfort. His face was open and friendly, he was Drykas and did not let the hardships this life bear him down. Arundel will learn the importance of that in this session.

He waited patiently for her to comply, fully expecting it of her, his own body lounging comfortably. "Get comfortable Arundel, you will need to be able to relax and be loose." To demonstrate, Brennar rolled his shoulders and let his arms wriggle liquidly at his side before he returned his dark eyed gaze back to the other.

"Webbing is what keeps us safe. Webbing is what makes our striders so fierce and fast. It is very important that we teach and guide those talented to use the web into using them, for without the web then we are dead in these grasses." She had likely heard all of this before, but for Brennar it bore repeating, so he repeated. His hand gestures underlying the importance. "You know that you will never see or manipulate the web unless I, or another webber, introduces you to its source. However, once we do you will be able to at least see the web, touch the web at will. You must avoid that temptation to do so."

This part was so very important that Brennar lost some of his open friendliness in his face, the scarred features turning hard as stone as he looked at the younger woman. He remembered well when she was first put on a horse, he remembered clearly when she began to train her very first horse. This is why Mentors tended to be people close to the pupil, strong emotional attachments make it even more needful to remind of the dangers of Webbing. "I will have your promise that you will not play with the web without me there before I introduce you. The web is a siren, it is a call and the longer you touch it the harder it is to release it..to come back to your body. Those lost... are never regain. It is called overextending. You must not allow it. After two or three sessions I promise you will be able to expand on your webbing, but first you must learn to resist the siren call to go further."