Feeessh
learning a new meduim? Try fishies…
In hindsight, you probably shouldnt let a mule tend your garden. They'll eat all the good stuff and spend most of the time cloudgazing.
"Oh, monna gi! I do not see many of your kind here, and I'm here from a neighboring settlement. My title is "The Chronicler", and I must record that you were here - among the many other things I must record. First off, what is your name, and second, where are you from, monna gi?"
Marbles stirs, woken up from her half-nap by an unfamiliar voice. Monna gi? She turns to the stranger as her own eyes readjust to the faintly lit shelter corridor.
A tall scavenger woman stands before her, wielding what appears to be a file of paper in one hand. A… ledger? The symbols on her forehead and the little flask tied to a belt suggest that she is a wandering scholar. The quality of the harness that she wears, as well as a string of big shiny pearls on the woman's neck make Marbles think she must be an important person. You do not often see scavengers don such expensive clothing.
Chronicler smiles and repeats her question to Marbles, who is still a bit disoriented. "Ah, I apologize for interrupting your nap, but I’d like to ask you a couple of questions before everyone goes to their sleeping cells for hibernation. May I know your name?"
Monna gi means "blue one" in Yoŋasabi, the native language of slugcats. Marbles is transfixed. Her familial name is Blue, but last time anyone has called her that… it was a very, very long time ago. Must be a coincidence, surely. Her own fur is of blue tint. The slugcat nods at Chronicler, letting her know the question was heard and accepted.
"Sorry, sorry. My name… Marbles. Maban. Like… how do I translate this into scav language? Small round stone, but shiny, see-through."
The Chronicler settles down and opens her ledger. "I see, I see. What a lovely name. What about your place of origin? Have you travelled far?" the scavenger's voice is gentle and warm, as if she's talking to an old friend. In the paper-filled folder there are rows upon rows of handwritten glyphs in a language Marbles does not fully recognise.
Truly, the odds of meeting two scavengers with even a rudimentary knowledge of scuglang is unheard of. Marbles blinks, trying to bring her distracted mind back to earth. She takes a minute before uttering "...I'm, I'm from here, actually. Came back to visit my old home".
"Oh, really?" Chronicler replies enthusiastically. "That's so sweet. But please be careful around these areas. There are a lot more vultures and lizards now. Many tribes have designated patrols to spot dangers and dispatch hunting teams. They are likely to stop you and question you, simply because this is strictly scavenger territory. The main routes are safe, though. You will know, because they are marked with white and blue glyphs. I would suggest sticking to the main roads for as long as you can" she finishes writing something down in her ledger, then scoops it up.
"Thank you kindly, mahin. This will do. Have a good rest tonight!"
// The Chronicler belongs to @kcdodger
To everyone who sent a request that I haven't gotten too yet @the-ghoulish-foolish @the-saint-of-awe @sheeperzzz and anon, I'll be sure to finish drawing em by later today or tomorrow! Thank you for your patience :]
Yarnabee sona when
Yarna8ee? ;-0
This will never NOT be funny
seconds before
Pink Lemonade from @thunder-opossum
Still love this silly thing
iterators if they were awesome
very normal abt horses
I don't post very often, on account of my terrible sleep schedule - Sorry!
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