Part 1 >:3

Meeting Valinta had been a blessing. With her help, Ralla and Noss had made it to Cercatori d'Arte with perhaps the same time, but in better spirits and company (and the added insurance that they weren't plain old trespassers). The black wolfess had been a pleasure to meet, and Ralla would not mind or find it troubling to meet her again. Maybe on the way out? For the present matters, they had arrived at the border of the territory, and Ralla was polite enough this time to howl a greeting for someone who could allow them into their territory. The howl was the one she had at one time made special for Sugar, but had grown into using it out of habit; that staggering of staccato notes quickly leading into a descending, drawn out note. Out of respectful habit, Noss added his in as well. His was throatier and deeper; more like a rumbling of the earth. Noss could be prideful and stubborn and arrogant, but she knew he would never consciously trespass. She thought hard on her first transgression while she waited. She admitted it hadn't been her smartest move, but she hadn't gone that far in... No, that won't do. A trespass is a trespass; no excuse. I wouldn't like it if a stranger suddenly appeared in my hut, would I? Replacing the train of thought was the reawakened promise of art. Oh, art. Art was all around them, in everything; clothes, writing, painting, singing, stories, nature, dance... The list could go on. Finding out that the pack was one of such talents had been enough of a draw for Ralla to at least visit.

Behind her, Noss kept his usual silence. He was not pleased that he had been cajoled into a detour, but Ralla had somehow convinced him that it would make more sense, instead of doubling back after the recon trip to the Halycon Mountains. He needs to get out more, she mused in jovial thought. She knew he could be joking, but he had always been so stern around her; especially during her first training years. Noss wouldn't have any open signs of weakness around her, even though she knew just how to crack that shell of cold stone. She wondered if she should also find souvenirs for everyone while on her journey...? And then the next problem came up; how did the these wolves trade? Furs? Glass? Feathers? Beads? None of that? She would be sorely disappointed if she had to leave the pack just because she didn't have anything worth bartering for... She had brought some things she counted as valuable in one of the packs just for the occasion, but she realized that, just as she valued what Long Gones had left behind, maybe the Cercatori wolves wouldn't value he 'treasures'?

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

You're sorry? I'm late too :S

Not much after both Ralla and Noss had loosed their voices came another large wolf who stood on par with Noss. To her relief, Noss did not puffer up his fur in pride--only stood a little straighter out of respect--which made a note in Ralla's head that she might've wanted to jumped off of Sugar's back to be respectful as well. Doing so, she could only assume that the wolf in front of them was Shawchert--the alpha that Valinta had told the siblings about--and so Ralla assumed her most respectful posture and facade, having the sense not to even try a boasting stance. She had thought--maybe once or twice--that Noss would introduce himself and her instead of leaving his younger sister to do all the talking, but it was a baseless hope; Noss just didn't like to talk unless he was trying to make a point. Little did she know about how much he really talked, lately, when he was interested... Still, it was becoming painfully plain that since this was her idea and general quest to take the long route, Noss would have none of the formalities in-between. The large wolf soon introduced himself, and Ralla's suspicions were confirmed.

"Greetings...Sir Menue...?" she said tentatively, unsure how to address the alpha since the only tops she had known were 'chiefs'. It seemed proper enough... "My brother and I--" she was then cut-off by Noss's clearing of his throat, and the two siblings shared another moment of silent conversation, Noss's argument being 'I don't want to be dragged into any of this' and Ralla's retort comprising 'It's just a greeting; don't get so uptight' and so on and so forth with strange stares and facial expressions until Ralla got the courage to just blow him off... Which went surprisingly well.

"My brother and I," she repeated, "are here to see your new pack. I believe Chief Dawali had visited, but I had heard that your pack is full of craftsmen. If you would, could we trade?" The thought striking her, she briefly reached around the disconnect the long fire-tender's ceremonial staff from its makeshift moorings and presented it before the chief. "Altough my main goal is to have this thing properly carved..." The man before them seemed kind enough; he may have been Noss's size, but the personality difference already appeared universally different. Although strangely, she had to admit that Shawchert had similar coloring to Strel. She wondered if Noss was thinking the same thing, judging by how he seemed to size up the other alpha. His stare made her resume--more covertly--their silent argument, although she was the one advocating a change in attitude now.

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

Trust me; I feel the same -.- 'Cept I get my muse back by freewriting :3 But the writing must not be done under pressure -.- Like, no replying to a post. Must. Be. Original. And. Individual.

Shawchert accepted the offer of trade well enough. She could tell he was wary of Noss, but then again, most wolves were. He was just daunting, and since he rarely spoke to anyone he didn't have an interest in, it just made him seem all the more suspicious. Her face brightened when Shawchert told her that he was a carver, bringing her realization of getting a ceremonial staff all the closer. But his question of what she had to offer for his part of the bargain brought her to an uncertain pause in thought. What if he didn't like what she had brought? Mentally shrugging, she decided that it was no use worrying about it then, since she had brought what she had, end of story.

Nonchalantly handing the staff to Noss--much to his surprise at having been pushed around to do so without so much as a word--Ralla rusteld back through her pack to get a general inventory, listing off the items as she saw them. "I have...colored beads...a woven picture...some feathers...some small ear-hooks...leather bracelets...a metal bracelet...silver chain necklaces...two mirrors...and a bottle of sweet stuff." She hadn't the slightest what the metal bracelet or the bottle of sweet stuff was, exactly. All she knew was that the metal bracelet had weird symbols on a round part and that the sweet stuff puffed out something that made her nose burn every time she pressed the top, leaving the ridiculously sweet tang in her nose for at least an hour... The value of those two things was unknown to her, but the rest she could value well enough. For carving her staff... She would let the alpha decide. She trusted him enough as a crafter to be fair. And, if he wasn't, she could barter him down to fair trade... If she didn't get too caught up in the whole process. "If you'd like, I could show you what sounds interesting. Or...if you don't like any of it, is there something we could do?" Once more, at the mention of 'we', Noss gave her the look of not dragging him into it, but she ignored it that time.

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

Wasn't I the one who was at one point pestering people about lateness...? >.>

Excited to see a craftsman at work, as she usually was to see any form of art being made, Ralla followed closely behind the large alpha with Noss and Sugar in tow. She knew her brother didn't have as much appreciation for the arts as she, but she could see him from time to time stare at something or listen intently to her stories for however long she could keep his attention on the luxurious frivolties. Her offer for extra payment was rejected, only it made her happy to hear it because it was generous. "That is very kind; thank you."

Shawchert led her and Noss to a clearing where a structure of sorts stood in front of them. Ralla wasn't surprised to see it made of cloth, although since it was attatched to trees she was actually a bit perplexed. Was this the permanant home? It couldn't be, since cloth or tarp was not a very sound walling to be had for all times. She had seen cloth for tents and for nomadic wolves; was this the most ready item they had available for the time? Maybe, maybe not; she would not judge, and actually enjoyed the novelty of the home. She took the rope leading to Sugar's halter from Noss and tied him around a tree where there was still grass to be had in the cold, patting his neck and smiling as he settled in his space, telling her in his broken horse speech that he would be fine. She hoped so; the journey had not been kind to the horse's diet, considering most grazing shrubbery was scarce or gone. Maybe she could trade more for Sugar's fare? She then preceded Noss into the hut and looked around--not rudely, but just curiously--as Shawchert led them in.

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

Relatively short post >.>

Ralla sat self-consciously on the leader's bed, feeling a bit presuming to do so even though he himself had indicated she could. But when he brought out his tools, she leaned anxiously on her knees, vying to see the different shapes and crafting materials that he would use. Shaw asked her what design she was expecting, which made her pause for thought. It would have to be pertinant to the fire tending tier--of course dyed with the red, symbollically--and have some sort of ceremonial image.

With a slight bit of difficulty, often using her hands to try and explain, Ralla described her image of the staff. While the staff itself was long and tall, it was not extremely thick, so Shaw's crafting skills would be imperitive. Ralla's image included the main picture being of many swirls curling up the staff, the inner part of the swirls colored red, almost seeming like flames licking up the length of the wood. On the edges of the swirls, Ralla wanted Shaw to carve little pictures--spaced every so often--that told the story of how fire came to be (which, sadly, included Ralla having to bore the alpha with the story and lore). She didn't want the man to go overboard, she just wanted to basic story told; it didn't have to have every detail portrayed or be extremely intricate. She just thought that having the story of fire on a ceremonial fire staff would be almost like the totems back in her old tribe.

Which brought up an interesting observation; Ralla had seen maybe one totem since her time in AniWaya. Was the art of the totem not as practiced? Perhaps not.

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.

It's all gooooooood~~~ And yes; yes you are *nods sagely*

The prototype on the paper was amazing, as well as everything Ralla had imagined it to be. From the top started the story, where the Great Spirits sent thunder from the sky. As the tale travelled lower, it was as if the swirls and little animals on the paper were going to traverse straight into the ground. The symbolism and artistic imagination was profound; quite simply, it was perfect. Ralla voiced it so, pleasure painted across her face as she, with barely restrained excitement, urged Shawchert to begin to carving. She wanted to see the picture come to life; for it to astound her beyond what she had seen on the paper, as she had no doubt it would. Every piece of art, even rough sketches or crude cave paintings, had a voice and story; it was a cycle of wonderous heart and mind.

Ralla watched, rapt in fascination, as the alpha began his work. She wondered if it would be rude to interrupt his concentration, or if it was rude to stare in silence. All the different customs that she had ever learned were always conflicting, so she had learned to wait and see what the best course of action would be, based on her host's own actions.

Moon walks. "Moon talks." Moon thinks.