Posted 2021-08-23 18:06:19 (edited)
Guardian of the Shaman's Sanctum Lore: Moonfeather
 Moonfeather's Bio
 The Foraging Grove
You listen.
(1:12:15)
The Foraging Grove is an impossibly long and winding path of lush grasses and earth littered with thousands of nuts and seeds. It is said that only the chosen, or those led by the Healer are able to cross from the entrance into the haunting Bonegarden. Every step taken seems to lead into a dead end, or where you began. Strange birdcalls weave through the swaying, hypnotic foliage, and there are faint rattling sounds that emanate from what you assume is the core of this bizarre forest.
It is here that Moonfeather, the pack's herbalist, spends most of his waking hours foraging amongst the roots of the looming, weeping trees.
Sunbeams stream through the leaves, casting a warm, beckoning light on patches of grass to doze on. Though this place is safe, it is not recommended you rest here for long, or worse, sleep.
There are no insects here. You hear the scratching of squirrels and other rodents in the trees, but cannot scent anything besides the myriad of herbs. The wind that blows through this tunnel of trees sounds like a hollow flute. No matter how hard you squint in any direction, the curving woods have no end in sight; only a pin-prick of shifting light in the horizon.
Moonfeather steps beside you, then pads on calmly, swiveling his head back over a smoke-furred shoulder with a look that can only be interpreted as "follow close" in his cool eyes.
You wonder briefly, glancing up through thick branches and searching for the invisible sun, if night ever falls here.
 The Bonegarden
You listen.
(2:23:43 - End)
The sunlight fades, and you keep your head low, following close behind Moonfeather, eyes trained on the glowing moonspots that adorn his tail.
The air around you has become thick with fog, enveloping everything in its wake. The dark, faded treeline is now identifiable as coniferous, and you wonder if you may be in the mountains.
The rattling sound you were unsure of before is now very apparent. Birdcall once again echoes throughout these cold woods, the sound of owls screeching and hooting piercing the smothering mist.
You question your senses when you hear the trickle of water, but keep close to Moonfeather as he treads the invisible path with skill.
Shapes begin to form in the bleary haze, sharp and frozen in place. The mossy, loamy earth that you walk is soft in contrast, but the muffled sound unnerves you.
Suddenly, the rattling shatters the silence, and you bristle, paws splaying, claws digging into the soil as a massive elk skeleton slices apart the frigid fog with its sharp antlers. The bones are bleached white by the moon, and lay in an unnaturally long heap beside a blackened tree. The skull is untouched by insects or even the creeping moss that seemed to invade most of the landscape around you. Its sunken eye sockets almost….glow with an unnerving blue light.
You hastily catch up to Moonfeather, who seems completely unperturbed by the hulking cervid skeleton, tracing his fading pawprints with your own.
There seems to be a rhythm to the rattle of bones around you, and you can feel your skin crawl as more skeletons make themselves known, all their anatomy eerily misshapen in a way you just can't identify.
The spirits here...are they truly at peace?
Your fur shivering in the misty air, you press on, gaze forever trained on Moonfeather's swishing tail.
 The Blessed Falls
You listen.
(10:35)
The fog dissipates almost as quickly as it formed, revealing a lush emerald jungle of ferns and cascading vines. They flow down the sides of marble cliffs that tilt towards each other, creating a partially covered tunnel of sorts. The stones here are smooth and in their cracks, grow fragrant mosses, submerged in tiny tributaries.
You feel much more at ease, as a fresh, heady breeze brushes past you and your guide, ruffling your fur and clearing your lungs. The rushing sound of water is now very apparent, and you follow Moonfeather with a bit more eagerness than before.
The cries of exotic birds and the buzz of jeweled insects fills the air, and you swallow back the saliva that had been forming on your dry tongue. The scent of prey is close.
Flowers of all shapes, colors, and sizes drape across the cliffs, sidling up to the path you both walk.
As you turn a corner, a snow white waterfall crashes down into the winding stream you had been padding beside. The crystal clear water forms the beautiful rippling river, in which a myriad of glittering scaled fish swim in.
The warmth of the sun beats down on your furred shoulders, relaxing you.
Moonfeather pauses beside the pool that the waterfall feeds into, settling on his haunches for a moment. The sunlight shines brightly through the splashing cascade, casting brilliant rainbows in the misty air. You take the cue to sit quietly beside him, taking in your surroundings.
The Blessed Falls are where most injured wolves are taken to be healed by the magical waters in the paws of the herbalist. The air here is unpolluted and untouched by any imperfections of the earth. A few days rest here and the right medicine is usually enough to cure any disease a wolf may have.
 The Echosong Grotto
You listen.
(49:51)
After some time, you both rise to your paws, inhaling deeply one final time before Moonfeather tilts his shaggy head with a hum. He motions silently for you to once again follow him.
At first, you are confused. Why are you heading back down the path you just walked? You decide to put your trust into the strange wolf once more.
You listen to the waters rush beside you, encouraged by the balmy breeze and sweet smells. Lifting your nose, you scent, wondering why the sound of dripping water can be heard. You breathe in, attempting to find the origin, ears swiveling to catch the elusive sound.
The rainforest has now grown quiet as you trek onwards. You swish your tail in uneasy anticipation, the warm ground you once tread now growing cold, and slick. The rivulets that trickled over the craggy moss have gotten wider, and deeper. It seems as though the water is travelling along with you.
The smell hits you with a cold, damp breeze.
A cave?
You listen.
(51:49)
The foliage above you no longer lets in sunlight, and what little makes it through creates sparkling pinpricks in the thin layer of water beneath your feet.
The ferns have folded in around you, and now you are both splashing quietly through a small, sapphire stream. Crystalline structures weave in and out of the leaves, reflecting the walls and water around them in a dazzling display of lights.
You press on further, steeling yourself against something that may distract you from the ever swishing tail of Moonfeather.
Your eyes widen as you notice the spots on said tail have begun to answer the reflected light, with a soft glow of their own. Your pulse quickens, but you remain close, ears flooded with the dripping stalactites and the rushing stream.
As you both pad deeper into the luminous cave, these sounds begin to fade, despite the physical nature of them remaining. There is a strange clarity in the cave, but overwhelming at the same time, like the drone of a thousand dragonflies. The droplets are becoming rhythmic, each note unique and complementary to the last. They begin to form a recognizable pattern.
You inch closer to Moonfeather, the glow his spots are giving off oddly comforting.
And then, the unearthly sound of a lone luna howling echoes from deep within the cave. Her voice reverberates clearly and in turn, a lupe howls back. Their voices harmonize in a beautiful chord, trembling briefly before fading. Again, this happens, until a languid song is formed, in time with the rhythm of the dripping stalactites.
Mesmerized, your eyes glaze over, paws moving on their own as you succumb to the ethereal beauty of this grotto, the shifting aurora crystals above you hypnotizing.
The Echoing Grotto is where Moonfeather spends most of his time, communicating with spirits of old, enlightening himself to their ancient wisdoms.
Your ears prick, hearing a third voice.
It's soft, and low. You blink, vision clearing as you realize it's Moonfeather, lending his howl to the invisible duet.
It's almost as if he is more humming to himself, than answering, but it calms you greatly. He seems to have complete control over his being.
The stones beneath your feet are still smooth, but are studded with rounded gemstones and odd, glowing cyan mushrooms.
You relax slightly, working up the courage to keep closer to Moonfeather than ever before. However, the chimes of ancient beings reach your ears, glittering audibly, and with an uneasy swallow, you come to realize this cave once gave shelter to many different species of creatures.
You sense this place is neither good, nor evil, but a place dense with magic, in which all that was is not what it seems to be. The water no longer feels wet on your paws, nor does it feel cool. It simply is.
The cyan glow lingers on your fur, staining your pads.
You continue on.
 The Sacred Moonpool
You listen.
The stillness overcomes your will as you finally reach the end of your journey: The Sacred Moonpool.
An all-encompassing sense of peace permeates the air, and sinks into your very bones.
The pebbled earth below you reflects the living glow of otherworldly flora above you.
Whispers float across the endless pool of water before you, shifting waves unseen to the naked eye. The delicate droplets of water that fall from the blazing blue ceiling scatter them.
There are no scents here. You can feel a taste in the back of your throat, but it gives you nothing but the thickness of honey.
It is impossible to describe, and yet, as a mortal mind would, you try anyway.
"They should have sent a poet," Is the only thought you are able to form.
Above you, stretching infinitely into the nothingness (and you know, without reason, that it is nothingness), are what can only be described as melting stars. It's as if the night sky, the very cosmos was painted onto the ceiling. It shines and sparkles without limit, and you drink it in with your eyes.
The beauty is immense. You recall once on your journey, seeing a whale breach in the far reaches of an unknown glacier. It is the only possible living comparison your frail mind can fathom. With a slow realization, you feel yourself succumb to the fact you are a mere fraction of the universe.
A deep weight pulls on your soul, and you are brought to your haunches. You don't even notice Moonfeather settling quietly beside you.
The whispers now permeate your thoughts, flowing, liquid, brushing, weaving, humming, amoaning whalesong in the night. You are fragile, susceptible.
Holy.
They all say in one unified breath.
Your head is bowed, unable to gaze into the luminous infinite any longer. And yet, it permeates your being further, your blood, your mouth, and finally, your eyes.
The dam breaks.
You cannot understand, and it is a stricken emotion that envelopes you: to possess the clarity of your own mortality.
The sound of water splattering on the pebbles reaches your ears, and your sightless eyes refocus. The droplets seem to be coming from...you.
The tears race down your cheeks and stream to the ground, covering your paws in an aquamarine liquid. You can't even bring yourself to be frightened, or confused. Your shoulders are too heavy. You let your head hang lower, nose nearly touching the shimmering pebbles.
You are weeping. A voice makes itself known within you. You recognize it as Moonfeather's. Do not be afraid.
Unbearable. It was the only wolven word you could muster to describe what you were experiencing.
The Ancient Ones lost their ability to howl. Moonfeather's thoughts meld with your own. They could only shed something they called tears from their eyes. There was nothing left for them when they were unable to hear the Earth any longer.
So they wept.
Your jaws relax, lips parting slightly, allowing more of this strange liquid to pour from within you.
An eternity passed, and you once again felt something other than the gentle indifference of the universe.
Moonfeather sits beside you, offering his warmth to comfort you.
It is okay. He murmurs gently, and you are almost startled by his actual voice, and not just the sound in your head. We are the Earth. We can hear one another.
You are never alone.
You will never be alone.
---
When you finally come to the clearing from whence you began, all of nature crying out from every branch and burrow, the setting sun nearly blinding, you find comfort in the dulled spots on Moonfeather's pelt.
You may never understand what the Sacred Moonpool is, was, or will ever be, but the knowledge it exists consoles your deepest fears. You feel utterly at peace.
"They never send a poet." A gentle chuckle escapes the herbalist, and he tenderly presses his nose to your shoulder before padding ahead of you. He treads a familiar, well worn path in the silky grasses that lead back to the packsite.
You blink, and instinctively follow. Your chest no longer feels hollow, but full of something...something inexplicable, but undeniably….holy.
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IrisClou🌠
#46970
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