Befriending a Bird

     Good morning!" called out Orabelle as she placed her leather bag on the table before her, "I'm looking for something on Raven lore," She continued as a bright looking fellow peered at her from behind a tome. He placed the volume on a small table beside his chair as he stood to greet Orabelle. "We've got plenty," He began, as he paged through the titles on the shelves around them. The lore trainer, young master Dalton, spent all of his days in the Scholar's Stair Archives, and became quite acquainted with Orabelle, as she visited looking for reading material often. Now ripe in her fourteenth year, the young lady had taken an interest in nature lore, and wielding it for personal defense and safety. Having supported her thirst for knowledge, Orabelle's father now disapproved for his daughter's taste for combat. She wished to travel and aid Rohan, her home land, in some way. For now, her father forbade it. As her father lay traps in the dark morning, Orabelle sat in the comfort of the Archives, reading page after page on Ravens and other birds. When she had eaten her share of bread and selected which books she would borrow, Orabelle set off into the town to inspect the shops and vendors.

     'An animal companion could be a huge advantage,' She thought to herself as she picked through carrots, apples, cabbages and potatoes for supper. After selecting her produce, she continued onward to see what the other stalls had to offer. She reached into her pouch to see what coin she had on her. She counted a handful of silver pieces and 22 copper. Her mind raced as she window-shopped the metal armor, leather shoes and boots, and other crafted goods lined on the streets. On the right side of her, she noticed something shimmery catching her eye. The source led her to a jewelry stall. 

     "Hullo," she greeted the keeper as she eyed what goods were laid out before her. A series of rings, chains, and earrings all dazzled up at her. Some with healing charms, others with luck. A small bronze cuff with a white stone inlay of a dragon peeked from the top right corner of the display. "Oh my, tell me about this piece," she held it up, then tried it on. The keeper told her of the dwarven flame and forgery which developed the wrist cuff, and of it's charmed ability to improve energy and morale during combat. Orabelle counted out her money again. "Will this much do?" she held out a wad of silver and allowed the keeper to count it out. When the transaction had completed, she set off to deposit her goods at home.

     Prior to that day, Orabelle had noticed while napping in her yard that a small gathering of Ravens had begun to congregate on the tall tree beside her house. Now as she place the basket of produce on the kitchen table she could hear them calling outside. She paced through the hall to her bedroom, where she laid her leather bag on the cot. She reached onto her back to retrieve her staff, then set out through the back door outside. By then, the sun has risen high and hot in the summer sky. Out back, Orabelle sat herself under the Raven tree, holding the staff in her lap. She began to breathe and meditate, holding the stone tied to her staff in the palm of her hand. When she had reached peace, she stood, extending her staff to the lowermost branch in the tree. A couple Ravens flew higher up, squawking at her. She matched their pitch and hummed a quick tune in response. A bird near the tip of her staff cocked it's head to look at her. She hummed again, a little longer. This time the Raven hopped onto the head of her rod, and balanced itself accordingly. Orabelle was taken aback, and gasped a little at this accomplishment. The bird cawed in response, so Orabelle continued to hum in order to reassure and comfort the bird. Slowly she removed the staff from the tree, still holding it above her. She was careful to keep balance of the bird's weight from under the staff as she extended her left arm, offering the Raven a place to land. The bird responded immediately, joining in on her hums and fluttering down to take it's place on her hand. Overwhelmed with a sense of accomplishment, her eyes watered in excitement. She could now see the Raven's long purplish-black tail feathers, and downy soft chest. She could tell the bird was female. "I would call you Delora," She smiled to her bird friend, "If you would answer to it, that is." She reminded herself. The Raven squalled back to her. "Oh? So Delora it is then?" she joked to herself and the raven. She cawed back. Orabelle raised her brow to this. "Will you be my ally, Delora?" Delora sang a tune in an absolute fashion as she spread her wingspan. She then returned to her sitting position on Orabelle's hand. Orabelle laughed beside herself, then turned for the house.

     When her father came home, he hadn't noticed Orabelle sitting at the kitchen table. "Hello Pa!" She called out before he came in to meet her. She sat at the table with a candle burning light above her book. Her raven sat at the other side of the book on the edge of a bowl filled with nuts and berries. "I see you've made a friend," He noted of the bird as he say to remove his boots. Orabelle's father was called Dernwine Thúrsdred. He and his betrothed Bellewyn had Orabelle in Rohan, where she was raised until she was seven. Then Dernwine left as a traveling merchant to Bree, taking his daughter with him. 

     "Have I made a friend, Delora?" She asked the bird while laughing. Delora chirped back, then pecked at a berry. "Very Interesting," her father responded, then he stood to start the fire in the oven. proud of herself, Orabelle closed her book to help her father with supper.



**Original concept of a Rohirric version. She has been altered to Orabelle Redberry and her father Dernwine Redberry. So. Love me.**