[IC] Light in the Dark

[ClosetMonster]

continued...

Krell lifted her head sharply at the touch on her side. Her ears pricked forward and as the large injured one froze, she brought her nose to the air where she sifted the scents of injury from the healing. She gave a low groan, deep and thrumming through her chest, then flicked her head to the side. The injured one was large but there was a slow reaction time, much like a prey animal and Krell did not need do more than rumble gently to remind him of her presence.

When it seemed the one she was laying beside had gone quiet, Krell did the same. The bitch gave a wide yawn, ending in a high pitched whine of pleasure – a simple act to tell her companion he needed to relax, though she was far from relaxed herself. His uncertainty had begun to bleed through their touching flesh. Yet, she was the mother and as such, her genetic heritage forced her into gentleness. With pups suckling, she was forced to calm, the actions of the pups and the lack of response on the part of the great beast she tended both conspiring to relieve the burn of anxiety his waking had borne in her.

As the sun-fire bled through the room, Krell panted. It was a great deal warmer for the two of them, but she did not try and move. Instead, she flicked her head to the side and licked at his elbow. One damp touch and a sneeze later, she'd let her head fall back to the furs where, heaving a great sigh, she let her eyes watch the door through which her master had gone and through which she could hear the usual movements as the Light Keeper rummaged about in the lean-to beyond the warmth of the kitchen.

Hap returned to the room, humming a strangely bi-tonal song, soft and in harmony with itself. It had removed constraints on its tail which flicked in time to the soft song as Hap went about the room, a stool under one arm and a basket of comfrey under the other. It set the stool upon the floor and without looking at the inert guest nor the quiet dog and her pups, Hap crawled upon the stool to hang clumps of herb here and there along the rafters. It was high and Hap was forced to get onto its tiptoes which was something of a hazard on a three legged stool. Still, the keeper had done the action many a time and did not falter. Again, it leapt down, moved the stool, then stepped upon it once more. This process it completed, stool and herbs, then move stool, until the basket was empty and the rafters hung further with more herb than before. Small hooks had been set into the rafters at intervals for this very purpose, set in every half foot, and the bunches clung together. When the basket was empty, Hap went to draw down the now dried herbs, fingers deftly searching through it each bunch to pull down only one particular plant – a dark browned one which released its smell the more it was handled until the circular room was smothered in pungent scents.

The process was gone about in a manner that was easy, without rush, for there was a good amount of time and not as much to do with it as perhaps there was in the Center's cities. Hap had no social engagements to draw from its tasks, so the keeper could fill hours in as it saw fit. Still, despite the careful ease at which it tended its duties, Hap still managed to get things done rather quickly and when the basket was full, it set the basket to the side and picked up the stool to replace it.

Then, stool cocked on its hip, it looked at the other occupants in the room. The dog and the frozen patient. Hap lifted a slender brow.

“Are you well?” Hap's voice broke the silence, made Krell's tail thump on the fur covered flooring. Hap watched for a half moment, then set the stool down once more, leaving it behind as the keeper went to its patient's side. Kneeling in a smooth transition, Hap reached for the cooled broth. “Well enough to sit up and eat?” it finished its question of the quiet guest.

[Nemaisare]

Fear's hand pressed heavily against his chest as he felt the dog moving, forcing a rush of air out and letting nothing back in until he was dizzy with it. But beyond the warning she offered him, the beast, small next to him though she might seem, did nothing else to evoke such emotions. No movement helped calm his racing heart, but when she proved to him she had no intention to injure, and did not believe he trespassed, time let it slow a little. And eventually fear let up her pressure on his ribcage, though even as he managed a breath he found it stuttering, uncertain. Painfully slow.

He could hear the squeaks of little ones, and understood only that he was lying next to a dog and her pups. At the very least, he was not between them. But he had never known any other creature to allow a troll so near their young. Trolls, after all, ate meat. Two more shuddering breaths, and his shaking fists were already tired. Three, and his body couldn't hold onto the adrenaline. But that didn't mean exhaustion swept aside the fear, it simply resigned him to it. Fight or flight, but he hadn't the strength for either, so let it come. Wilhelm settled slowly, staring at the ceiling, picking out the shapes there. Blurred and safely immobile. There were no dogs or pups or dangerous mothers to see above him. Nothing but a concept of weight support he'd never seen before. Trees, after all, supported their own weight or fell. There were few other options when their wood was nearly impervious to all save time. Those who lived in houses built theirs of dirt and stone, and let the grasses grow above them. They built them well, though too small for a curious adolescent to stand in. Trust this journey to have found him too many new things to understand.

He concentrated as much as he could on the coalescing colours and textures until he could see that he was looking at dry plants. He did not imagine they'd been growing upside down when they died, but it nonetheless amused him to think so. A better distraction, certainly, than looking at hanging bunches. Especially when he hadn't the perception, beneath his nictitating membranes, to see details well enough to identify them. Had they been only a little less clear, he wouldn't even have been certain they were plants. Fuzzy stalactites, perhaps. With nothing else to look at, he was grateful when Hap returned from wherever he had been and began what looked like a very simple routine. Routine was good, in the face of so much strangeness, to know that life would move on as it always had was comforting. Not to recognise that routine was less so, but Wilhelm would take what he was offered. Certainly, the little one might well not have been up to some of the routines a troll went through daily. It was, for the most part, a matter of perspective. The stool looked small, when he turned his head carefully to eye something that was neither Krell nor ceiling plants. Trolls did not ordinarily climb small things. It was a waste of effort and balance. On the other hand, the stool rose to just under Hap's knees when it was set on the floor. Had he something similar in proportion. perhaps it would not have seemed so small. Then again, Wilhelm could have reached the plants merely by sitting up. Had he been capable of sitting...

He drifted in and out of paying attention as Hap worked, and was just beginning to doze off again when speech brought his mind back to the surface of wakefulness. His ears twitched and he squinted at the little creature. A grunt was all that escaped him at first as he was reminded of his discomfort. Thawing was not a pretty business, his skin was swollen and itchy, his feet were beginning to burn. And all the little scrapes and scratches he'd earned walking through the Jasper Tree Forest without caring about the trees, which had, many of them, been roughly his own height, were creeping across what few nerves were still unfrozen, an unpleasantly sharp tickle that made his shoulders twitch. He frowned at Hap when the lightkeeper chose to steal his only answer. Well enough had been crawling up his throat, and now it was stuck there. His own weight heavy enough to make him question the strength remaining to his muscles. He did not know if he could sit up. He had forgotten about the food. Or not even realised it was there.

His frown turned into a grimace after a moment's brief struggle with his instinct, and he gave himself permission to fail once, and only once, before admitting his weakness. He liked neither option, but if he did not even try, he would not be able to say he couldn't. It was not a matter of pride, but of truth. HIs muscles tensed and he forced his back slowly off the ground, shaking violently before he could move an arm beneath him. With an elbow for support, he could just keep himself there, but rising any farther was beyond him.

"This is as far as I go, little one." The words grated from a dry throat and he winced. He could not even spare one arm to reach for the bowl. This, however, was a matter of pride. He had no desire to be fed. So he tried despite himself, reaching for the bowl. His supporting arm gave before his hand had made it halfway, and he slumped back against the furs. With a breath, he went back to staring at the hanging plants, waiting, with a patience he'd had to learn, for the strength to come back to him. Weak as he was, he could not even be certain it would.

[ClosetMonster]

Unconcerned for the lack of strength, for the great boned guest was still quite thin and there hadn't been nearly enough time to have gotten better, Hap gave a quick nod of certainty. Setting a decision into place, the lightkeeper moved the bowl nearest the large creature, then putting hands flat to the floor near as well, it scooted it's knees closer. In fact, so close that the small creature might have only leaned in or extended slim legs and the guest would have been able to use it's lap as a pillow.

“Not too far, but closer now than before,” Hap said calmly. True Wilhelm had managed more earlier, but before, death had been hovered at the edges of any attempt and Hap had seen in more than one case, how there was strength in the last moments of life. To feel exhaustion, to be unwilling or unable to push beyond what would be acceptable under the circumstances was sign that life remained.

The small golden keeper did not smile, there was nothing tender, though a great deal of gentleness, in its actions as it moved once more, setting knees on either side of the great head on the furs. With a huff of annoyance, Hap's small hands cradled under the large skull and lifted easily, for despite the weight of Wilhelm's exhausted body, Hap was not as weak as its slender limbs seemed to say. Then, with his head raised, Hap slid knees together and laid the injured guest's head back down, slightly raised now on the keeper's legs.

Whether it was some strange understanding or perhaps just serendipity, the keeper did not try and feed its patient. Rather, it grasped Wilhelm's thick wrist and lending strength to the sick, set the bowl in that large palm, wrapping Wilhelm's large fingers around the small bowl.

In this way, food was had. It was only a small bowl and when it was gone, Hap reached into the pocket of the tunic it wore and drew out the pungent herb which it crushed in its fingertips then held before that pale mouth. “The dogs do not like this,” it said as calmly as it knew, “but it does make them eat when they are not hungry. On long runs, I have two who do not eat for their stomachs are not made for more than one thing at a time. It soothes pains as well and you have much of pain and an even greater amount of hunger. It is time we press your body to take in more, or you will never get well.” Hap's eyes narrowed. “And I have no need to deal with a body as large as yours if you should die.”

Oh, no. There would be no permission to pass from this little one. The herbs overhead still sent their smells throughout the room, but the herb which was crumpled into a thumb sized ball between Hap's fingertips, burned away the scent of everything else – crisp and almost offensive to any but the most insensitive nose, it did not promise a pleasing taste by any means.

“Come, take it and then I will get you more to eat. Do you eat meat, grains, or do you eat grasses?”

[Nemaisare]

His strength did not return before Hap had managed to maneuver itself into position as Wilhelm’s support. This was, however, less humiliating than having to allow someone else to feed him. He’d already gone through it was, he’d rather not repeat the ordeal. So he did not protest as his head was lifted and settled off the floor. In truth, Hap’s legs were no more or less comfortable than the furs his head had been resting on, but it was that tilted support that was important.

He might have found the help in picking up the bowl himself just as bothersome had the Keeper said anything about it, but Hap did not. So Wilhelm endured. It would not have been his place to protest any help offered in the first place, but he would have found it difficult to resist. All that truly mattered was that the food reached his stomach with as little fuss as possible. He still did not enjoy the process, and struggled once more to keep it down. But it stayed where they put it, and then threatened to return when Hap pushed a plant at him that wrinkled his nose and turned his head.

Wilhelm grumbled his protests then, a wordless refusal to open his mouth that trembled through nearly every part of him. But it merely spoke over his noise and he could not refute simple logic. If it worked, and he could get that herb down, it would be good for him. If it did not, the Keeper could not blame him, surely it could taste that scent on its own tongue. Lying so thick on the air as it was. But it was that last sentence that defeated him. It would not do to die here, lying down and inconvenient to even one isolated being. The light had called him to stay alive, and death came with walking. If he hadn’t the strength to stand and continue on his way, then he could not die here. Where someone would see.

It was a firmly entrenched instinct as much as it was a religious philosophy. In death, a troll moved on.

Finally he grunted and opened his lips and then his teeth, loosening his jaw enough that Hap could set the herb in his mouth. In this, pride did not win over the desire to keep that smell off of his hands if he could. His lips were even pulled back as tightly as he could manage. Once it was within, he chewed once, abandoned the attempt and simply swallowed over a gag, rolling over to cough reflexively as he forced the herb down. At least it was a sign that there was still life in him, if he had the energy enough to move when desperate not to choke. The movement did not agree with him, but eventually everything was in his stomach where it should be, and he could answer the question.

“Anything you have to offer, I will eat, little one.” Provided it was not of the elements, at least. Trolls were not picky, and they usually had strong stomachs. It was just his trouble that he’d neglected his a little too long. “I sympathise now with your beasts.”

[ClosetMonster]

Hap kept a steadying hand on the large shoulder of its patient. When the great being has settled, Hap moved slightly and allowed him to lay back once more. Its gaze held amusement but it did not laugh at the joke.

The warmth of that small hand remained a moment longer, then Hap stood and padded silently out of the room. Krell had, during the adjustments, the coughing, trusted her master to let her know of danger. Therefore, as the troll lay back once again, she merely snuffled her muzzle in amongst her pups then lay her head back to the floor once again and sighed in relaxation.

For the next while, there was no sound but for the random knock or movement in the adjoining kitchen. The quiet of outside, the lack of wind's moaning during the lull of weather, the lack of fire's crackle for the light came from a star kept well within the world's crust upon which they stood, even the pups had ceased their moaning and quiet peeps. There was nothing but for the troll's great bellows of lungs as he breathed. The deepness of the quiet was particular to the furthest reaches, yet even the others had birds or bear, jackals or mice. There were villages at the points of the other Lighthouses. Instead, in the Western Reach, all the world had stopped. The beasts were fed and warm, the keeper had its work complete but for some cooking which had no need of stirring, the pause was long lasting and complete.

Then the first voice broke the silence. It was a tonguing, low and questioning. It died off and Krell lifted her head to listen. Beside her, a pup chirruped. Then the voice came again, long and low, tempting the others. With uncertainty, another met the first, high pitched and tremulous. After the second, another two and then the full of them broke into complete song – wild and joyful. They broke the silence, rang out into the quiet with their chorus.

Krell, without moving from her place, tilted her head back and suddenly joined in. Her call was long, sweet, and with a high tip at the end, as if she were yodelling, which trilled back down.

As the dogs sang, Hap began to hum, joining in strangely, with a soft traditional song, wordless and as high as Krell's apex. And as the dogs fell away, Hap continued, soft and to itself, stepping back into the main room with leather ropes to be braided and a platter of some rice like substance covered in a light gravy. It would be heavier and yet not so heavy as it was bird and not the more oily bear which was also hung in the lean-to in preparation of being cooked at a later date.

Hap trailed long fingers down Krell's muzzle to her domed skull and then scratching at her ears, before it knelt effortlessly beside Wilhelm's head. It looked him over for a time, before with a frown and not a moment's hesitation, it lifted his head and resettled itself underneath him. This time, as it was nothing so simple as a bowl, the keeper did not offer to allow him to feed himself. Rather, it used a bone mixing spoon and lifted enough to cover Wilhelm's tongue with a touch of the gravy to both give him the greater nutrients as well as to make the rice not get caught in his throat.

Krell lifted her nose and lay her muzzle back against the troll's side, her nostrils so intent on the smell of food that she forgot altogether that the harmed one might not like her so close. The keeper hissed at her and flapped an elbow at which she lay her head back down and sighed, defeated. Then the keeper turned large eyes down at the pale face on its lap.

“A little at a time. But we will feed you,” it said in a tone of voice brooking no argument.

[Nemaisare]

It took time, and a while of listening to silence before he felt the herb beginning to work on his stomach. It wasn't so much hunger that grew, as it was a lack of the unsettled uncertainty that had had him swallowing with difficulty. As though it had filled all of the emptiness in him with its smell. Perhaps, given enough time, it would dissipate just enough that he'd feel hunger instead of nausea or repletion. Both, he knew, were not the best of situations. But he supposed a dog might eat even if it wasn't hungry if it liked its food. And he supposed he might as well. When winter was coming, and winter was most assuredly come to this place, one ate as much as they could. At least now, he could hope it would be less difficult to manage. And he did not have to worry about hunting or scavenging for his food, it was being brought to him, warm.

As the heat in the building reminded him of how tired he was, and his mind forgot his worrisome company, Wilhelm found his eyelids drooping yet again. They were, it seemed, impossible to keep open, and his mind started sinking into the darkness behind them. At least until the stillness was broken by a sound as wild as the wind. His eyes remained closed, but slowly, his lips curled upward at the corners, and his body relaxed. He knew that sound, he understood it. And when Krell moved beside him to join in, he didn't flinch away or freeze. She wasn't a hunter he should fear. Respect, certainly, but not fear.

He didn't join them, he wasn't part of their pack, and he had no territory or family now to warn them off of. In point of fact, he was on their territory, so as far as he knew, it probably would have been a bad idea. Two more points in favour of remaining quiet were that he hadn't the breath for it just now, and he'd never had the voice. Trolls didn't howl.

He was still smiling ever so slightly when Hap returned, and though his ears twitched as soon as he heard its footsteps, and his nostrils flared at the scent of the meal it carried, Wilhelm's eyes only opened slowly. They were still heavy, for all he was a little more awake now. As was his pride, it had sunk somewhere far away as Hap raised the first spoonful to his lips and he obliging opened his mouth. Distantly, Wilhelm was certain he should be annoyed he wasn't even to be allowed to try. But he could not work up the energy to care. The food was reaching his mouth, he no longer cared how it managed that miracle. Maybe he would tomorrow. "That is well, I am too thin now for winter." His voice dipped into a rasping depth as he spoke, and he had to swallow before speaking again. "Your beasts, they are very like to wolves. It is a comfort..." He trailed off to swallow another moutful of the grain he was being fed. "to hear something familiar."

[ClosetMonster]

The troll's voice rumbled stones against Hap's small knees which were propped under Wilhelm's shoulders to keep the great guest from choking on the glutinous gravy. Hap's nostrils flared and it's small stomach gave a companionable growl of interest even as the troll opened his mouth once more. He was like Krell's pups, as fearsome as a gnat and with promise of great violence if not tended well.

Wilhelm, Hap reminded itself, was capable of so much more, however and Hap worked to forget those harms which the more intelligent of species could inflict with simple words, promises, and lies. Hap's small world seemed far removed at times, considering the distances required to reach the nearest familiar face, however it was not insurmountable and Wilhelm was not the first to make it so far west.

“Wolves are honest,” Hap snapped. “My dogs are honest. If honesty is a comfort, then maybe you'll manage well here.” Hap, however, was not so honest, though for despite the unsettled nature of its thoughts, the sharp tone of its voice, its hands were gentle as it fed Wilhelm and its tail had begun to writhe against its thigh as the long appendage sought to free itself and explore.

Unwilling to engage in conversation when thoughts were so tiring and it was so unaccustomed to either the thoughts or the conversation, Hap sniffed and continued feeding Wilhelm, but did not manage the social niceties one might expect of a host. Instead, Hap's gaze flitted over Wilhelm's form a time or two, settled most often on Wilhelm's legs, and its nostrils flared each time, testing for the smell of rot through the heavier scent of gravy. The bowl was slightly larger than the ones previous and after a third of the food was gone, Hap paused and looked down at the color of the troll's skin.

“You'll keep it down?” it asked warily. Thin broth made for a much easier mess to clean than gravy and rices.

[Nemaisare]

His ears pinned themselves against the sides of his skull at the sharp tone that met an observation he’d thought would be fairly neutral. The words did not seem to match the manner, and he frowned in confusion as another spoonful was offered him. But he ate it nonetheless, automatically. His mind, however, was too tired to try understanding what insult he may or may not have offered. It won no other violence from the little creature, and without the tone, was almost reassuring. He snorted, relaxing again.

“Nature is not always honest, and wolves belong to her. But a troll will only lie to hide himself.” The depth of the reverberations in his chest as he spoke would have settled the point quite clearly had Hap been another troll. As it was, he wasn’t trying to begin an argument, he’d likely lose. He was merely bringing up a point as he understood it. Deception was not an art reserved for cruelty. And, to a troll, it was not only used in speech.

“I do not think I will be hiding from you anything of myself.” That was his point. And once it was made, he settled into the silence of the moment. There was a rhythm to being spoonfed, and he had to admit, without the worry of having it return the way it came, the food was pleasant as it passed his tongue. The meatsauce that covered the grains was particularly to his liking. But after a time, he was opening his mouth slower, and starting to turn his head away. At the question, he couldn’t help a huff.

“May be I should not find out if more will stay. There is nothing that feels full and nothing empty.” And the feeling struck him as wrong. He shouldn’t eat if he wasn’t hungry, but he hadn’t eaten nearly enough to be full. Still, it was better safe than sorry. “Wait a time, eh?”

[ClosetMonster]

Hap drew the bowl to one side, setting at its thigh and took in the troll's countenance.

“Full and empty,” it repeated and then nodded about waiting a time. “Not too long. Appetite will come back when your body isn't devouring itself any longer.” It cradled his large head in its slender hands and scooted backwards, then helped Wilhelm to lay down more fully. It's palm rested for a time at the thickly corded juncture of Wilhelm's shoulder and neck. The troll's skin was warmer than Hap's but the Light Keeper couldn’t have said that was due to the troll's make up or illness. In another bid to ferret the truth out more fully, the creature leaned over and snuffled at the breath from the troll's mouth.

With a questioning look, the keeper leaned back on its heels. The troll did not smell like winter, nor did he smell like death or illness. Rather, there was something else underneath the scent of gravy, a smell which was faintly reminiscent of some other time in Hap's distant past. But time hid its secrets and Hap unlaced its tail as it stood. The tail whipped out, free and showing Hap's agitation even as the keeper kept its face closed. “Sleep and if you cannot, rest,” it said. “We will try again every hour.”

Now that its patient was more aware, more awake, Hap felt it unnecessary to be caught up in quiet activities. The keeper drew out a heavy box from inside a large chest against the wall and opened this. Inside, chain clanked and a mass of wire, chain links, and rope was drawn out. Hap settled into a seat by the partially opened grate where light was strongest and began to untangle the mess. Here and there, chain links were bent, wire frayed, and rope slit. The keeper reached beyond its knee and withdrew a pair of wire clippers which it used to cut the links and snip wires off, laying aside the edges of its work so that the entire mass began to stretch out slowly. It was a large mass, looking something like a harness or a net though the links, wires, and ropes were set strategically. But had it been a net, it would have been big enough to cover Wilhelm with room to spare. At Hap's feet, heavy pulleys rests against its ankles.

With time, a section of the mess was cleared of wire and links and the keeper withdrew from the crate a heavy spool of wire. This, it began to use to reattach rope and chain in a manner only it seemed aware of just how it was all put together. The keeper worked in silence and the chain and rope mess clinked now and again, as did the clippers click sharply into the silence. Krell nursed her pups and after some time, shook them off and trotted into the other room.

[Nemaisare]

To have his appetite return would, in Wilhelm's mind, be both good and bad. It would make eating easier, certainly. Of that he could not complain. But it would also mean a return to living that he had not expected. He had thought to move on, not move house. And in these wastes, he worried that his size alone might be an imposition too great for his host to deal with. If he added his usual appetite to it, even winter slowed as it might become once he was healthy again, he might eat everything the little one had cached. For, surely, it had not thought to ready for so large a guest. With so large a stomach...

He merely grunted though. There was time enough to worry about that later. If he was to live, he would focus on living. Recovery. Regaining his strength. His health. Then he would repay this one's kindness. A troll did not leave his host starving when there was food that might be hunted. If he had to, he would chase down one of those bears, but for now...

Wilhelm felt his head settle back against the furs and shut his eyes, Hap's cool fingers against the nape of his neck as refreshing as a trickle of meltwater down his back. He felt the spasm uncoiling between his shoulders blades and slipping down his spine. It made him shiver, shudder and shake his head before the sharp motion made him groan. Too much energy wasted on useless activities. The hand moved away and he was left staring at the backs of his eyelids, advised to rest as thuogh there was anything else he could manage. His lips lifted in a rictus grin, eyes still shut, as he turned his face towards Hap. "Aye, and tomorrow, I'll dance Mother down to melt the snow, shall I?" There was a vaguely derisive note to his words, mocking his own weakness, and perhaps a littleannoyed by it. But he did not blame the little one for it, and quickly opened his eyes to amend any insult he may have managed with further words rumbled from his chest.

"If I am in your way, I might attempt removing myself to a corner then, but there will surely be no dancing." He followed that statement with a heavy snort before shutting his eyes again. And for all he had not thought he would find refuge in sleep again, he was tired enough that it dragged him down somewhere between the beginnings of strange clanking and settled rhythm of fixing frayed wires. A pup had nosed its way beneath the hard warmth of his arm when he woke, and he found himself confused by the sensation of a warm little body breathing there. It was very small. He kept his arm still so he might not inadvertently break it and draw the mother's wrath. Or his host's. It would be a wasted life besides, if he killed it, when he wasn't planning on eating it. But he did turn his head, blinking his nictitating membranes back into place as the light reminded him of Mother's dislike at being stared at and eyed the mess Hap had created.

"Hrrrmmm-" The rumble made the pups squeak and caught in his throat, so he cleared it, as quietly as he could, before continuing. "What are you doing there?"

[ClosetMonster]

“Fixing netting,” Hap answered with a frustrated sniffle through its small nostrils. Its large eyes narrowed, it bent over a particularly difficult piece of wiring where only a small knot was necessary.

Narrow, pink tongue out between its teeth, Hap focused entirely on the knot, then sat back as it took and sighed. Krell wandered into the room licking her muzzle and white teeth, then sat, her dugs full for pups barely visible through the thick, winter fur. She lapped at her inner legs, then settled on her side, groaning in pleasure of being not in demand.

Hap pursed its lips and frowned at Wilhelm. What thoughts it might have had, however, it kept to itself.

“You are at the reaches, did you know? There is the great Break just beyond the Light House and despite it being well lit,” the Keeper's tone turned sardonic as it stated what was more than obvious, “at times this or that can fall over the edge. Greatest is a bear, smallest is a bird or a pica.”

To have some small thing fall to the great Light deep inside of the Break, not even a bear or a troll could make much impact, so such concerns were often worth question to those Keepers who kept the Great Break. Hap did not wait for the interview. Instead, it lifted the netting in hand and shook it out some. “No reason to have them go to waste. Food is hard enough to come by out here. All the villages at the other Reaches have a netting, larger than mine. But I've only a handful of mouths to feed, so no need to keep a greater net than this.”

It gave a derisive huff, then began again on its task, dividing attention between the netting and the troll on its floor. “What are you doing here?” it asked then, because it seemed Wilhelm was aware enough to have some kind of conversation and despite not caring, Hap was curious in a distant manner.

That moment, when uncommon chatter was to fill the quiet of the Keeper's home, had a relaxed and common sense to it. For many a decade, the Keeper's world was little but the whistle of wind, the howl of dogs, and its own dual-toned humming when it bored of the silence. Yet with the inclusion of a single soul, needing but not demanding, belonging in the same way Krell belonged, the Western Light House at the edge of the Great Break was filled with warmth and not just light.

The stars, however, keep their secrets and not a one whispered to the snow as the first flash appeared many day's travel to the lee of Finger Eight, the Jasper Forest. There, in the darkness of eternal starlight, four fires lit and held.

[Nemaisare]

He had never heard of any of this. The Reaches he knew was the sky, and even then, no one he'd ever encountered called it that. It was simply what the word made him think of. The Great Break seemed like a place trolls would avoid, which might explain his lack of knowledge of it. But not to have heard the name even once seemed strange. Trolls wandered by nature, not forever, of course, but when you were as large as they were, living communally was not easy. Most spent several years finding a territory to call their own and slowly gathered a family around them. It left very little of their world unexplored, insofar as he knew, anyway. If trolls made maps, which they admittedly didn't do, most would have been able to place, approximately, the forests and rivers and large lakes and mountains and edges that marked their world. All the landmarks were there in the stories they'd shared when they crossed paths and the steps they'd taken themselves.

WIlhelm's brow furrowed further as his thoughts mired themselves about this notion of new land. He was old enough now to have learned a great deal about where he lived, and he knew he had not walked nearly far enough to find anywhere that no troll had found. Still, he did not interrupt the full answer to his question. He understood that there was a pattern to the way a conversation began. When trolls argued, legends said the earth shook, though Wilhelm understood only that too many deep voices at once made everything unintelligible. Hap had no such problem, but the troll afforded him the respect he should have for offering knowledge. Besides which, awake enough to listen did not promise he was awake enough to be coherent, and he found himself struggling to make sense of everything he was told.

Light did not live in a house, she was too bright and sharp to be limited to any particular space. And he did not like the idea of his Mother being held within walls as though she had some definite shape. In truth, the only part of the answer he understood was the practicality of catching food that would otherwise go to waste. But he had to answer the question put to him before he could continue his own rickety learning. He was not even sure he was aware enough to remember this later. "I was walking until I could walk no more." A low note rattled in his throat as though death was trying to escape as he spoke traditional words in a tense they were not meant for. You did not tell someone you had been walking until you could not, because there would be no breath in your lungs to speak, no flesh on your bones and no spirit to recognise the question in the first place. You'd be dead, and the dead had no use for words. You told them that you would be, or you were. "I should not be here, but I think Mother called me."

The words slurred heavily, each background grumble of emphasis or added meaning mixing them further, and he said more than he'd originally thought to. "Why do you keep her there like that? She does not like it, she shines too brightly for living with. She has forgotten the kindness she tried so hard to learn."

[ClosetMonster]

Hap's ears twitched and it's nose crinkled in frustration. The moment remained quiet and comfortable, and suddenly it was as if their worlds had laid one upon the other, without touching in anything but words. The troll's concept of mother, of shining, what he had been doing, they crinkled and rolled with unspoken meaning. For Hap, where most worlds were far apart from its small Lighthouse, the sensation was both uncommon and expected. Still, there was little reason to like it.

“There is only one thing shining here, and that is the sun,” Hap nodded obliquely toward the grate through which some of the light from the great middle of the land flared and warmed the whole of the Light Keeper's home. “Is that what you mean? This Mother you speak of?”

Tail curled around one slender ankle, the Keeper's task halted and it lay the great netting upon its lap. Like an old woman with knitting, it dropped its chin and blinked large eyes at the great form on its floor. “I do not understand,” it said baldly, “what you mean.”

Outside, the lights in the darkness of the star filled void, slid, snake-like and cold across the blackness. Below, a much greater light spread warmth away from the Reaches and the great cup of earth nestled its power as snug as a mouse in a hole. There was little to offer the troll outside of food, quiet, and a room to settle into as a feather into down. Hap's estimation of the entire situation was such that the troll was in dire need of settling much like the dogs did, after a long run. But then, Hap had broken the quiet and with a miniature huff of breath through slender nostrils, the Keeper leaned forward at a slight incline and fixed its eyes more firmly upon the troll.

[Nemaisare]

The sun... the only thing shining is the sun, thing here, the only thing... Wilhelm's eyelids slipped closed as Hap's confusion made itself as clear as his own had felt. His mind wanted to rest along with his body, and even when he opened his mouth to shape something, nothing emerged. It was a battle just to end the blink so he could once more see his surroundings. "No..." The rumble beneath the word eased away quietly on his breath, elongating it into a smooth denial awaiting explanation rather than a blunt negative. Yet it took the troll another long blink to work his way around to it. In truth, he may have dozed a little between each opening of his eyelids. Thankfully, trolls were a patient people, well able to carry on a conversation for several days in fits and starts when time allowed. The longest conversation Wilhelm had ever had lasted three years, between himself and a traveller often walking through his land. He was well accustomed to remembering where he'd left off without needing to consciously scramble for the words.

"The sun is her home." The place or thing or person where and with whom she felt most at ease. "He likes her temper. She dances with fire and plays on the water. She is our Mother, the light and lifesource. Ahhhhh..." He sighed as the words slipped their way past his lips, each accompanied by its own low note. It had been a long time since he'd told his children any of this, and since they had, in turn, told theirs. But he had not forgotten the words. It felt good to speak them aloud again, and he lost a little of his fatigue as he settled into the role of teacher. "She brought us into the world from the warmth and the wet, and she let us grow. We know she is our Mother, because we can see her so well, and when she suffers us within our eyes are so darkened to remind us that we are her children."

No troll could see well in the daytime, even when the sky was cloudy and completely overcast. Some could make out a small amount of colour and shape. Most were completely blinded. And if they tried for too long to see anything, they would stay that way. But it made sense to them that they should be sensitive to a Mother's presence. And she was much gentler at night. "Mother is not always kind, little one. She is not easy to live with sometimes." But then, no troll was either. Nature was not a gentle, guiding hand. She was the rest of a body too, and that meant imperfections. "But that is no reason to keep her inside these walls."

[ClosetMonster]

Instead of answering, the troll slid sidelong into a dozing wall and was gone, thick lid closing over heavy eyes. Hap's tail twitched in curiosity then stilled as well. It had been many a year past remembering from the last time Hap had not known what tale was being referenced and curiosity was a welcome prick. Still, no need to harp at the exhausted creature on its floor.

It folded the netting using a folding system which might keep it from tangling when it was lifted and moved, settling the edges still in need of work atop the rest, then set it to the side of the small chair. The Keeper rested in the quiet of the half dark of its home. The light from the grate cast bright needles of light against the walls, but they were so slight as to be of little use to anyone not accustomed to darkness. Hap's large pupils worked somewhat, though not half so well as Krell's, and knowledge of its home made up for the difference. All about were the minutiae of a lifetime in one place.

Wilhelm was the dross of a life in motion. Hap let its gaze roam over the figure on its floor. He was smaller than he had seemed when insensate. His body pulled in a bit, he fit the furs of the main room just that much more and the life of him was quiet, like that of a pica, meant to keep to the dark.

Suddenly, Wilhelm's voice rumbled into the stillness and the troll continued speaking of this Mother of his. Hap did not respond outwardly, almost certain the guest would lapse once more into sleep if given the space to do it.

Still, there was a riddle here. Something living in the sun. The Mother inside of him, the sun? Wind? But no – wind was biting and cold, not warm and wet nor did it darken eyes.

Having lived in the wastes so very long, Hap's people were lost to growing things outside of purchasing them and gathering them as they traveled now and then (so very few and far between were those days – how many years had it been since Hap had met with one of its own?) and the earth held only cold rock and colder death. It was a true mystery what was warm and wet outside of blood, the mouth, and a womb.

“What I have inside these walls keeps you alive,” Hap said in a muted, surly manner, not reflective at all of the intense curiosity in its heart. The tip of its tail began to lash again, like that of an unschooled child's and it snorted in disgust, grabbed the offending thing and set the tip between hand and thigh to still it.

[Nemaisare]

The response he received made Wilhelm snort. The action left him wheezing. A moment later, he was gasping in breaths between coughs and then laughing. There was little amusing about the conversation, but it still struck him as funny, that that was the point raised. “She does. She always has.” The words rasped low against the gurgle in his chest. “She gives life, but you do not keep her in your shelter. She calls fire in then. Mother likes not the walls, so she burns them down.”

A heavy hand reached out, shaking, to scratch a nail along the wall. Bending, grating, catching grit beneath it. “Maybe the stone keeps you safe from that, but he will not stop her anger if you hold her too long.” Too much effort to pull his hand back, he let it drop onto the furs.

The troll shook his head and sighed, shutting his eyes again, they were of little use when he had no need to move or further study his surroundings. And he was tired. He could remember moments when he was younger, considering this very fact. But he knew all too well that any attempt to trap light, should it succeed, had dangerous consequences. Of course, the fact that trolls lived inside giant trees, many of them dried out and dead, and that the easiest method to capture light including tying her to a stick through fire… There were bound to be accidents, and trolls had long since learned that lesson. There were some who lived in caves and were aware of the benefits of fire, but the light still hurt their eyes, so they were careful never to take the fire so far into their homes that the light couldn’t already reach of her own accord. For his own part, Wilhelm had only met one such troll, a female who had been courteous enough to keep to his ways while she’d lived with him. Unlike this little one standing over him, whose tail was strangely energetic, she had not questioned the wisdom of letting light go where she would, and stay where she wanted.

“Have you never wondered at the heat of her?”

[ClosetMonster]

Hap scowled, not liking the sense of riddles which their conversation, albeit stretched out and lazy, seemed filled with. The curiosity burned and it could find no loose thread to pull on and unravel it all so as to understand it better.

“No,” it stood and as it did so, its tail was freed and lashed jerkily, like that of a cat. From the puppy pile nearest their now awake guest, Krell watched in interest. She went still and followed the movement with ice-pale eyes.

“I have little heat at all,” Hap considered. “There is the great sun under our feet and the ancient vents to its heat, allowing in what light and warmth we need to survive. Other than that, there is but blood and breath, and neither of these is particularly dangerous to me.”

The Keeper went to the netting and plucked it from the floor. It took the slender creature significant strength to carry the great bulk to the door where it set it upon a chair and then returned with a small bottle which it kept beside the door in a chest of dark wood.

With a sigh, Hap eased some from the movement, knelt down beside Krell. The bitch snarled at it in warning but it ignored her and plucked one of her pups from the warmth of her belly. She rumbled a second time more begrudgingly and set her head to the floor by her master's knee as he cradled the mewling babe in one silver hand.

“I do not think you are from the Reaches,” Hap put a conclusion on its confusion. “You must be from the daylight lands or twilight lands, because you speak in riddles and it has been many a moon's season in which I have needed to tease out meaning as much as I do.” Large eyes stared at him and Hap sniffed.

“Tell me about your home,” it asked, prodding at an invisible back door through which they might together reach some understanding, provided they both remained patient enough to find one which opened to them both.

[Nemaisare]

To Wilhelm, who was as yet still more used to the frozen wastes beyond the door, and whose skin was still reacting far more than usual to what was probably nothing greater than average temperature, the remark about there being only a little heat seemed absurd. Then again, he was aware that he'd spent too long in the cold, and though he wasn't sure how long was long enough for the effects to leave him alone, he thought perhaps he could afford to let that one slip by. He couldn't, however, work up the energy to be bothered by it, so there was little point in continuing to dwell on heat or no heat, whatever the case might be. There was, however, a growing concern in the back of his mind that if he had never seen a creature like Hap before, nor heard of one, and Hap did not understand the points he was trying to make, he was either dreaming dismally, or not where he should have been. He was too tired to decide which was more likely, or even what either might mean for the now or the later.

He couldn't understand how the sun could be beneath their feet, but that was for another time. When his mind was not slipping through shadows as though they vanished whatever they encompassed. At the conclusion adopted by Hap, he could only sigh agreement. It was a strenuous breath, shaky to start, almost shallow, but it just kept on until his lungs were full and then rushed out without fanfare. He was not from the Reaches. Insofar as he knew, his home did not have a name. There'd been no need of one. They all lived there. Apparently, that was wrong.

The troll's ears twitched as the pup Hap handled continued complaining, but the only sign of his earlier discomfort and fear was the slow curl of his tail across the furs to wrap around an ankle. The least energetic fidget anyone might possibly manage. When asked to describe his home, Wilhelm opened his eyes, third eyelid already covering them, and stared through film to the ceiling again, watching details fade in and out of his focus. That was a tall order to ask of anyone, to tell someone about their home if they were starting with confusion. Where did you begin? What did you share without explanation? What did you offer with both hands and wait until it was accepted? What did you leave lying behind where it had always been? He would start, he thought, as a herb bunch above swayed from another heavy breath, with the trees.

"You ask too much of me, but I will talk, and I suppose you will question. There will be something shared that way. Heh." His lips twitched, but he was already drifting towards memories, new moments didn't belong there until they'd passed, so the smile faded before it was finished. "My home is everywhere I set foot, on stone, earth, grass and through water... Or snow." He snorted. "But she lived most in the same tree I chose. Greater than those dark things I walked through, each leaf would cover my hand, some my hands together. Or they are small and thin, good for gathering into a bed. I could climb a full day and find little worlds in the branches." It had been a while since he'd been strong enough to climb that long, old age decided that the heights at which one was comfortable became lower and lower.

"My tree was long dead, and his roots gathered stone in the rising water of the flat land every spring. We would sleep in the lowest branches then, when the water threatened to make us breathe her." When the rumble that underlay his words died away, Wlhelm remained quiet for a time, though he managed to stay awake. Remebering could leave one lost if they hadn't first set out a path to follow. "He is empty now."

[ClosetMonster]

Hap's delicate brow furrowed, a crease breaking the smooth, timelessness of it's face. Words, for all that they were a boon, were a road to confusion more often than not. It was not that Wilhelm spoke in vocabulary which the Keeper found difficult to understand. Even the Keeper had had time with trees, with leaves, with water, even. Albeit distant, these things could be reached by sledge and many steps by its self and its dogs.

It rose and settled in the chair with Wilhelm exhausted at its feet, a pup on its knee. Despite the inherent lacks of understanding, the creature had settled in to unentangle this mystery in much the same way it had the netting. One knot at a time, one tangle, the world which Wilhelm spoke of would come to sight and they would then know of what they spoke.

“My home is here,” Hap waved a hand about them. “I have lived under stone and above the sun for ...” The Keeper paused then its slim lips quirked. “I cannot recall arriving,” it mused softly to itself, then turned its great eyes back upon the spent troll.

“But,” it continued, “if you must call it Home as you walk within, you are welcome to.” With a pause, the small Keeper's tail beat a soft tattoo with the tip upon the back of the chair upon which it sat. In that almost stillness, Hap's furrow grew and with a soft sigh, it shook its head sadly.

“I have seen leaves upon the trees in the twilight mountains, but they are not quite so large as your hands,” it gave a grave nod toward his hands. “Nor, have I see others of your kind, but I do not travel often or far. There is much to do here.”

Dimly, within the vast reaches which were the lands of Hap's memory, there was kept a frozen moment in which Home had been lost. Hap slid fingertips about the pup's fattened belly and rubbed as the memory clarified. The pup had quieted so the new attention caused it to crack its milky lips in a smacking moan before it snuffled into sleep once more. No great thing, this memory. It did not pang, nor did it do more than gain edges like ancient ice might when scored. Still, it had a solidity to it which left Hap sensing that the loss had been painful. In a fit of kindness, the Keeper abandoned the line of questioning for want of a more pressing problem.

“Do you drink?” it asked as it opened the bottle with one hand. From the darkness rose the sharply sweet scent of fermentation. Casually, Hap leaned forward and held the bottle to its guest.

[Nemaisare]

"No, they would travel more than you. Easier to find, if you stand still." Wilhelm grumbled the words, not quite sure if he was agreeing with Hap, or disagreeing. He'd forgotten the point when he started speaking, but it mattered, nonetheless, that the words were said. Because whether or not they were affirmation or negation, they would be something more for the little creature to learn, and knowledge was important. The troll, however, hadn't the capacity to think the same for himself just now, so he did not mind that the conversation was flowing past him and not sticking well.

After another moment, the large creature shook his head slowly and let out a chuckle that grated as though a rockslide had begun around them. "Be careful who you offer home to, little one. The word is more than walls and roof. Home is shelter. Within and without, in a den, in a mind, in a heart." He was quiet for another moment, and his next words had no secondary growl beneath them, they were empty of any meaning beyond what Wilhelm understood as obvious and painful. "My home... She moved on. The tree was empty without her."

And had been for too many seasons before he was ready to start his last walk that never ended.

Wilhelm's eyes closed, and he lay thus for a while until Hap invited him back into conversation. He thought he'd made peace with that old pain until a light on a sledge made him alive again. And hurting. He snorted at the scent that drifted under his nose and opened an eye a crack to stare at the offered bottle. The question confused him. He did drink, yes, but Hap had seen that already and should not need to question the fact. But the bottle smelled like the rotting fruits they gathered when a moment needed to be lessened,or celebrated. So, he reached for it, letting the question lie, and accepted the offering. He took a small swallow, which, compared with Hap might well have been a large gulp, and let the slow flavour slide its way down his throat before dragging his arm and the bottle back towards Hap. The effort of lifting it seemed unnecessary. "You are kind, but what tree bore that fruit?" He did not recognise the flavour.