Braigion had many days to be left alone with his prize. He collected enough wood to begin to cook the bear meat, and there was plenty of hide to make repairs (somewhat) to his torn clothing and perhaps make new ones…if he could find the necessary equipment. He took some of the bear’s teeth and managed to tie knots in his poofed up hair to keep them in place. Braigion had enough meat as well to have his fill…for a normal elf that is, but the Avar was still famished. Baking in the sun hardened the blood and mud into the elf’s skin and clothing, and as for his wound, it begun to scab, though dirt remained underneath…and it was beginning to show infection by the third day, but Braigion paid no mind to it. Of course, these lands seem to bring many people here…especially the ones he saw in the Mountains.
…
Barangolf peers about the landscape uncertainly, scratching his head.
There is a mostly skinned and mutilated corpse of a large bear between the two trees. Dried and cooked meat stand aside the corpse, furs and skins next to it...someone covered with mud and blood hastily scavenges more of the resources, which is mostly bones, claws, and teeth.
Barangolf wrinkles his nose as he approaches the trees, the smell of cooked flesh assaulting his nose. He cradles his basket of flowers gently; careful not to spill any as he makes his way towards the smell, then pauses as he catches sight of corpse and hunter. Barangolf raises a hand in cautious greeting.
Braigion's attention turns over at the sound of footsteps. His face half stained with mud and splats of blood as well-his wounded right arm scabbed. Immediately Braigion jumped to his feet and darted a few feet.
Barangolf raises his basket of flowers in a gesture of hopeful good-will. "Pardon me for interrupting, but I was hoping you might be able to help me." He squints at the other person's ragged appearance…Maybe not.
Braigion crouched down and stared at the other 'wanderer'. He tilted his head, almost with familiarity of this person...and confusion at what he said.
Barangolf tries again in Westron. "I am sorry for startling you; I was hoping you could help me."
Braigion inspected the elf up and down quickly...this one did not appear like the other...again he continued to stare, a bit more relaxed...but certainly paranoid and confused.
Barangolf carefully places his basket on the ground before holding his hands out to show he has no weapons. He then points to himself before shrugging in what he hopes is a gesture that will get across that he needs help.
Braigion looked back towards the laid out resources and the bear, then back over to the elf.
Barangolf circles his arms from the top of his head to his waist to indicate the landscape, points to himself, and then shakes his head.
Braigion squinted, and stared more intently, "Dhen ú-chenion..."
Barangolf opens his mouth in shock at the recognizable words (albeit in an unfamiliar accent) and switches to Silvan. "I am lost."
Braigion inched closer but lingered near the ground. The very small bit of time near the big forest in the east and its people helped him know some version of his native tongue...he said nothing though.
Barangolf peers curiously at the very tall Elf matted in blood and fur. "Do you know where Imladris lies from here?"
Braigion appeared meager in physique and face being clearer. Thorns and bloodied bear teeth adorn his messy locks, and a long bird feather dangles along his right shoulder, "Rendis."
Barangolf tilts his head at this proclamation, "...Rendis? No, no, Imladris, the Last Homely House. I seem to have wandered out a bit further than I intended and now I'm lost."
Braigion only pinpointed some of the statement's meaning...speaking in bits of Silvan, but mostly primitive Sindarin, "Know not."
Barangolf sighs heavily at this answer. "Then I suppose I will have to walk in a direction and hope it is the right one." Despite this declaration he flops onto the ground beside his flowers.
Braigion again inched closer seeing this person does not seem much of a danger, moreso to the other side of the bear to keep as a barrier...
Barangolf soon spoke again, 'I am Barangolf. What is your name?'
Braigion unsheathed one of his boned daggers and drove it into an area where it was unskinned...he did not do anything yet, but eyed the other still.
Barangolf eyes the dagger with some trepidation, 'Ahh...have you...ummm....and this bear...been here...long?'
Braigion again stared passively.
'Are you from Lothlorien? Your accent seems different, but I can't place it.'
Braigion looked away then and started to carve out the meat from where his dagger was.
Barangolf scoots away from the dagger, knocking over his basket of flowers in the process. He heaves another sigh and shifts position to his knees so that he can gather them up again.
Braigion turned his head again at the sigh, then back at the knife...he stopped for a moment and watched again.
Barangolf carefully sifts through the grass for any stray flowers, placing them in the basket carefully lest any get squished.
Tinurendis shouts. "BARANGOLF!"
Braigion stood up at the shout and darted away.
Barangolf glances up at the shout, hand hovering over a fallen flower, expression melting into relief. "Tinurendis!"
Tinurendis swung herself off her horse, marching right over to her cousin.
Braigion watched from afar and frowned deeply, fearing something and the she-elf.
The Avar watched in the pine-tree as the two exclaimed, the she-elf getting low on the ground. They were speaking things he did not understand…completely in a different language than he knows. The day seemed to go by quickly as the two talked, and eventually, they came over to the tree where the Avar was hiding.
Tinurendis stopped in her path, 'Quick; do I run up and greet him as I normally would or should I take deep breaths and act like a normal person?'
Barangolf pauses beside his cousin. "Usually when the Noldor interfere you end up in wars, not more seclu--ahh, you could try bowing; that seemed to work up in Imladris."
Tinurendis scrunched her nose. "/Bowing/? You can do that. I'll stay here and watch.'
'I should have known you would not remember how. You do it like so...' Barangolf awkwardly offers a bow in the direction of the tree.
Tinurendis exclaimed, 'Hey! At least I can talk straight in front of a Lord. Not like -'
Braigion impassively watched both elves and remained still as stone, unsure of what to do.
'Not like WHO?'
Tinurendis shuffled awkwardly, coughing to clear her throat multiple times, and lowered her voice to impersonate Barangolf. "U-u-uh, I'm B-Barangolf. Lord."
Barangolf covers his face with one hand in embarrassed laughter. "Is that truly how I sound? How terrible!"
Braigion inched towards the left part of the tree...having almost given up the option of trying to reclaim his prizes with these loud and odd people here.
Tinurendis grinned, laughing now. "Oh I wish we could see ourselves. We must look so foolish among those Lords and-- OH!" Tinurendis suddenly covered her mouth after her exclamation, glancing at Barangolf, and then pointed to Braigion in the tree.
Barangolf follows his cousin's finger. "I suppose bowing didn't work. Should we wave? Smile? He seems rather shy." Barangolf smiles as widely as possible in the direction of the tree.
'Maybe smiling might work.' Tinurendis smiles just as wide, right in Braigion's direction. After a while of nothing happening, Tinurendis tried not to move her lips much as she spoke, to keep her grin up. "I don't think this is working."
Braigion came out to the clearing, and almost raised a brow at them in bewilderment and a look of 'why are you doing that?'
Barangolf replies in just as stiff a manner as Tinurendis, "Perhaps a song or poem might do the trick?"
Tinurendis raised her brows, jutting her chin to Braigion's direction. "Apparently smiling did the trick. I told you I have irresistible charm."
Barangolf allows his smile to relax, working the muscles in his jaw. "Of course, of course, that would be why /Lord/ Parnard ran away from you in a sulking fit."
Tinurendis shrugs. "Some people can't handle it." She began to approach the Elf. "Suil!" she called out cheerfully, and switched to the Silvan tongue. "Do you remember me?" She pointed to herself. "Tinurendis!"
Barangolf follows after his cousin with a shrug.
Braigion backed up only a few steps, unlike the running he normally does...his gaze drifted over to the she-elf, and stared at her for a good long while before speaking, "Rendis."
Barangolf squints at the other Elf before smacking himself in the forehead, "Rendis! That's what he meant!"
Tinurendis's eyes lit up, nodding to the Elf. "Yes!" She pointed to Barangolf. "Barangolf. My cousin."
Barangolf says, 'He said that earlier, I didn't realize he meant /Tinu/rendis...'
Tinurendis says, 'Did he?!' She grinned widely. "Ha! He knows me."
'I asked where Imladris was, and he said Rendis. I thought he had misheard where I wanted to go.'
Braigion, to Tinurendis, the blood and mud had been dried into his skin and clothing. Bear teeth decorate his hair as well in addition to the thorns...with his mane having been dry from the recent rainstorm; it was ratty enough for a black feather was visible. He looked towards barangolf when the she-elf spoke his name and pointed, but said nothing.
Tinurendis asked, 'Last I saw him I said that he should come to Imladris and see me. Do you think he understood?'
Barangolf answered, 'Oh! That must be it! He said he did not know where Imladris was.'
Tinurendis looked the Elf up and down. "That may be so," she replied, "I wonder if he is lost looking for the entrance." She glanced back to Barangolf. "They say the path to the Valley is not easy to find for stranger eyes."
'I can hardly blame him if he is. I have been there and I am lost."'
Braigion seemed a bit more relaxed, since they aren't doing anything...but their conversation is more or less a mystery to his ears.
Tinurendis thought some, 'I wonder if we should take him with us. He looks...'
'Like someone who killed and ate a bear?' Barangolf stated.
'And rolled in its guts,' Tinurendis grimaced at the image of that. "That was gross."
Barangolf grins at his cousin, "What pleasant imagery! However, very apt."
Tinurendis smirked a little at her cousin, before turning her attention back to the stranger.
Barangolf takes a deep breath and then very loudly says, "We can bring you back with us."
Tinurendis flinched. "/Sweet stars/, shout a little louder, will you?!"
Braigion tilted his head and cowered a bit closer to the ground...appearing very submissive as he bowed his head.
Barangolf clears his throat at his cousin's sarcasm.
Tinurendis sighed, 'Lovely work, you scared the poor thing.'
'I was being friendly!' Barangolf exclaimed.
Tinurendis raised her voice. "YES I AM SURE THIS SOUNDS /VERY/ FRIENDLY, BARANGOLF. COME BE MY FRIEND."
Braigion began to turn away at the shouting.
Barangolf whispers almost inaudibly, "Oh, is this better? Come be my frieeeeend"
Tinurendis covered her mouth with her hand, and then swatted Barangolf with the other. "/Shush/!" Tinurendis took a step forward, calling out to the stranger. "Wait!"
Barangolf clutches his flower basket with both hands as he follows Tinurendis down the slope.
Braigion looked over his shoulder and stared impassively /again/, keeping his head low in a submissive manner.
Barangolf clears his throat again, and then attempts less shouting, "We can take you to food and wine. Imladris has a wonderful wine selection."
Tinurendis pulled her hood down, and tried to convey her message in broken speech. "We--" She stopped suddenly and turned to her cousin. "He seems to be unresponsive if you speak quickly like that. Try breaking your sentences. Like if you were speaking to a child.'
Barangolf spoke in an exaggerated way then, 'Oh. Mmm. Dooooo youuuuu neeeeed foooood?'
Tinurendis smacked her palm to her forehead, lips quivering from stifling a laugh.
Barangolf sniffs and tightens his arms about his basket, "It isn't amusing! How can we bring him with us if he doesn't respond?"
'You can only respond to what you understand, no?'
Braigion started saying something completely incomprehensible to them-full sentences it seems, and again turned away to leave.
Tinurendis cleared her throat. "Come - WAIT, wait!"
Braigion did move away again...and again looking over. His expression clearly showed impatience.
Tinurendis pointed at the Elf. "You, uhh," she maneuvered her index and middle finger in the air, as if they were walking legs, “- come with - " she pointed at herself, "Rendis, to Imladris?"
Braigion turned back to the little bit of silvan he picked up, "Why."
Barangolf watches his cousin as she does a far superior job of gesture speaking than he. He attempts to mime eating and drinking.
Tinurendis licked her lips, thinking how she could communicate her message in gestures. "Ahhm... yes! Food," she pointed to Barangolf, and then pointed to Braigion’s wounded arm, and mimicked wrapping bandages around her own arm. "Heal wound."
Braigion looked back down at the scab...then briefly over to the site of his last kill, then back over to the two.
Tinurendis spoke to Barangolf. "Do you have any food in your pack that we could offer? Perhaps he might come if he tastes something from Imladris.' Tinurendis glanced up briefly to the night sky, muttering something about getting in trouble.
Barangolf settles his basket of flowers onto the ground before slinging his pack off his back and rummaging through it. "Hold on, I have....ah! Lembas!"
Tinurendis holds her hand out. "I'll try to give it to him."
Barangolf places a few wrapped Lembas in his cousin's hand.
Tinurendis held the packed Lembas out, just as she had done with the blanket and wood before, and took slow steps forward and stopped halfway. "Food," she said, and held them out further. "For you."
Braigion leaned back as the she-elf got closer but did not run. He eyed what she held, and eventually crawled his way closer.
Tinurendis raised her brows and almost fidgeted, surprised at the response. She lowered herself to one knee to meet their company eye-to-eye, and kept the lembas extended.
Barangolf ties his pack closed again, slipping his arms through the straps.
Braigion continued looking at the offered bread...it certainly appeared to be a change from the things he had to eat before. He quickly snatched it before backing off again
Tinurendis gasped sharply, startled by the quick movement. She immediately pushed herself to her feet.
Barangolf picks up his basket of flowers and watches this exchange.
Braigion seemed to forget the others for a moment. He sniffed the bread, and furrowed his brow for a moment, then removed the corner of the leaf to reveal the bread...and took a bigger than necessary bite.
Tinurendis whispered to Barangolf from the corner of her mouth. "... That was a big bite."
Barangolf nods slowly. "There is more, if he will come with us."
Braigion pondered the taste and spat out the bit of leaf that got in his mouth...but swallowed the rest. He eyed the others again, "...come."
Tinurendis says, 'No, Barangolf. Big bite. Of Lembas. Do you know what happens when you take /big/ bites of Lemba--' Tinurendis stopped and slowly turned to Braigion. "... Come?"
Barangolf says, 'He's taller than us, he can take bigger bites.'
Braigion inched over to them, eventually standing up...but not fully straight up.
Barangolf turns to his cousin, "Ah...I hope you know the way back."
Tinurendis smiled brightly. "Yes, come!" She beckoned Braigion and directed to Barangolf again, 'I marked my way, not to worry. Did you bring your horse?'
Braigion kept his distance still.
'I left Glasdal in the stable, actually,' said Barangolf.
'Wandered here on foot by your lonesome; somehow I am not surprised.' Tinurendis ruffled Barangolf's hair. "Silly Gliwil."
Barangolf bats at her hands in objection, "I was merely picking flowers!"
Tinurendis exclaimed, 'Just like Gliwil to buzz around for his flowers!'
'Laerorn and Thoronchen deserve to have flowers left for them.'
Tinurendis' expression fell then, ‘Ah... of course.'
Braigion watched them more...before his gaze led astray as nothing was happening.
Tinurendis continued, 'Speaking of which, I found a proper burial site for them.'
Barangolf asked, 'Does it have a view of the stars?'
Tinurendis nodded. "Surrounded by tall, lush trees. It is the best I could find, I think... it isn't home, but it is something."
'Show me when we get back?'
Tinurendis answered, 'Tomorrow, we will set out in the morning. I hope you are done here, I need to get back quickly.'
Barangolf nodded, 'Let us go. I do not want my flowers to dry out.'
Tinurendis murmured. "Doesn't make a difference now, actually, I am already late again." Tinurendis beckoned to Braigion. "Come!"
Braigion followed a distance away; a small limp as he walked.
Barangolf asked, 'Late for what?'
Tinurendis waved her hand dismissively. "Nothing, nothing." As she approached her horse, who had stayed in the same spot, and looked around at the company with a flat, disinterested stare. Tinurendis pointed to Braigion, and then Talcheleg. "Ride?"
Barangolf frowns at his cousin's dismissal.
Braigion eyed the beast...and back at tin; giving her a untrusted look.
Tinurendis stroked the roan's neck, who simply bared her teeth at Braigion. "Might as well walk back on foot."
Tinurendis took the reins of her horse, guiding her to turn around.
Barangolf shifts the basket to one hand and presses the other against his back.
…
All through this Braigion had to wonder. What is this Imladris they spoke of? Why did they have such bland tasting food? These people did not seem they wanted to harm him, at least of what he could make out of their speech…wonder filled his mind at what he will be seeing, and hopefully will enjoy life better.
