Taking the Plunge

Silvereye sits on the beach, legs outstretched before him and his paws planted into the sand behind him for support. For once he's out of his uniform, having donned more comfortable clothing for the evening. Despite the time of night some wind is coming off the water, picking up the edges of his jacket and tossing it around his back. The Longclaw wears a light smile on his features, gaze out towards the horizon.

Ripplefur is very much in awe of the glimmering, heaving dark waves, stopping stock-still upon her first sighting and not even bothering to cover her first, instinctive reaction to the ocean - fear. Yet she had finally allowed herself to be coaxed down to the beach, intrigued by the odd juxtaposition of the familiar sand by such an unfamiliar element, and has now spent the better part of her time simply staring distrustfully out over the vast waters while digging her bare toes into the fine granules gathered at the base of the cliffs. "It feels...'softer' than the dunes of the Sand Mother," she finally comments, glancing down at the white stuff before looking back up, as if feeling a need to maintain a constant surveillance of the ocean.

Silvereye chuckles lightly, a sound that has become more familiar to him in the last day. "Yeah." He agrees, working his fingers against the fine white grains of sand, claws digging down to the level where the sand is moist. "Nice and cool." He adds, sitting up and gently shaking the sand grains from the fur around his paws. The Longclaw pulls his legs beneath, sitting cross legged and smoothing the fabric of his kilt before looking back out over the harbor. Finally he looks up at Ripplefur, tail circle around as much of his sitting form as it can. "C'mon. Sit down. Tide isn't gonna come in for a while."

"'Tide isn't gonna come in for a while'?" Ripplefur echoes grumblingly, falling back on her mimicry skills in her ignorance and unsettlement as she grudgingly pads over to sit down beside him. Her unease is obvious in the closeness with which she settles herself, arm pressed from shoulder to elbow against him. "I do not understand."

Silvereye takes advantage of the closeness to wrap the closest arm around the Runner. "Well, twice a day the water comes up from down there to up here." The Longclaw replies, flicking an ear. "It goes up to the cliff base, I think. But it's really regular, we always know when it's gonna happen so there's nothing to worry about." He nods, tone easy. "It's not like a sand storm that could come up at any moment."

Ripplefur's brow furrows as she struggles with the concept, and she asks a single, "Why?" and "How?" as she instinctively curls into his embrace, unconscious tension slowly loosening from her form.

"Well..." Silvereye begins to reply, his free paw reaching up to scratch at his head. "Would you believe that there's an invisible force coming from the moons that when they are over certain parts of the planet that they pull the water towards them, and then when they move away the water settles and it goes up?" He grins, glancing at the Runner.

"The moons?" Ripplefur says blankly, her attention finally snagged from the endless waters to focus puzzledly upon him. "The *moons* have something to do with these...these 'tides'?" Her nose wrinkling in disbelief, nevertheless, she gives the thought its just due before she allows, "You have made metal fly...and I cannot see how. I suppose it is not so unlikely..."

"They call it gravity." Silvereye explains further. "It's why when we leap we hit the ground again. When you go into space, like when Katya took you up, there isn't any gravity so you float around, like you're flying." The Longclaw grins. "It's just something that is...We can make it on our ships but really it just is. No need to think about it more than that."

"No need to think about it! You tell me of invisible things that only exist in certain places, that can move all that water and bring us back to the land, and you tell me not to think about it more than that?" Ripplefur chuffs in disgust, though her supposed irritation is extant only in the choice of words, her form relaxed and ears perked alertly.

Silvereye chuckles lightly, finding some mirth in the Runner's words and looking back out over Blackpoint. "Well...It's gonna work no matter what. Sorry if that'll keep you up at night." The Longclaw hugs Ripplefur closer, looking down at her face. "So, how're ya feelin'? Good to be out of the city for a while?"

"Yes," Ripplefur responds immediately, shivering slightly before she responds to his shift with a brush of her muzzle against his cheek. "One becomes used to it, such as within the Great Gatherings, but there is so much noise...and so many people, except that there are so much fewer than before, and it is now almost as frightening to see so few because I know what had happened..."

Silvereye falls silent as Ripplefur speaks, tailtip twitching thoughtfully while his gaze shifts back out the horizon. It seems to be oscillating between the Runner and the black ocean. "I can't even imagine." The Longclaw admits. "What that was like. It was bad enough knowing that it was happening here and that I was helpless...I'm sorry I left. But we'll come back. We always do." He sighs, sinking against Ripplefur as his lungs are drained of air and then he straightens again.

"I am glad you left," Ripplefur asserts, her tone stubborn while her gaze remains fixed on the shifting, silvery line of foam that edges the advancing and retreating waves. "I am glad you did not get sick. And I am a Runner. I am not afraid of being alone." "I'm an underclassser." Silvereye replies. "All we had was each other. I don't want to be alone if I don't have to be. We were a close community, because Altheor knew that the nobles weren't going to look out for us. That was my father's job down in the mines, he made sure that everyone came home at the end of the shift. Sometimes that meant leaving everyone behind to find someone you knew was dead." He pauses, "He never talked about it much, it wasn't his way. He used it to teach. Be with your people when you can, but know that sometimes you have to leave 'em to do what was right."

"The mines?" Ripplefur whispers in hushed tones, the historical dread with which that term is filled permeating the short syllables. "Your father worked in the mines?"

Silvereye nods his head slowly. "As did my grandfather and his father before him. My father's brothers all worked the mines. My mother's brothers worked the mines alongside them. They worked the mines for the Sandwalkers, and I was going to do the same. Instead, the Kretonians came. So rather than working beneath the sands until the day I died I got to go to the stars."

Ripplefur is quiet for a long moment, a paw absently stroking the arm he has wrapped around her, before she finally opines softly, "We should not fear outsiders. We are cruel enough to ourselves."

"Yeah." Silvereye agrees, head tilting to one side to rest against Ripplefur's. He remains silent for a moment, just watching the surf. "And what about your family? You've told me about your brother the Wormhunter and your grandmother the Runner, but what about the rest? Your mother and father?"

Ripplefur shrugs, her shoulders slumping a little at the reminder of her family, so far away now. "Father was a wormhunter before he gave the position to his son, my brother. He was very proud to do so. My mother is very good with her hands. She weaves, and makes the clan markers for the kits when they are born, and when they find their...their 'trade'," she stumbles over the choice of terms for a moment, looking down dejectedly as she fingers the edge of her desert-hued cloak.

"Was?" Silvereye replies, glancing down at the Runner as she speaks of her family. He must be able to note the slump of her shoulders against his arm but he continues to pursue the topic anyway. "Is your father well, to your knowledge? Or has he gone on?" The Longclaw's words aren't prying, having a much softer edge as he attempts to coax rather than force the information out of the Runner.

"Oh, no, he is still alive and well...at least, the last I knew," Ripplefur assures, before miserably turning her head into the crook of his shoulder, her voice emerging muffled from between them. "I could hear his roar above all the rest when I was forced to run away from my clan."

"A proud people." Silvereye comments with a bob of his snout. "Mine were the same. At least the Nobles were. As you can prolly tell the Underclassers were a little more lax with how we did things. Human influences, mostly." He pauses, tailtip twitching. "Suppose we can rule them out from coming to the ceremony. Still, wouldn't hurt to let them know."

Ripplefur breathes in deeply and then sighs. "I suppose," she mumbles, before reemerging to sit slumped wearily against him, watching the silvery lines of the waves moving incessantly over the sand. "Though I would not put to much hope on the 'would not hurt' part."

"Whitestripe offered to carry news, and he's a little crazy but even so I don't want him to get hurt if they don't like hearing the news." Silvereye replies, grinning slightly though without much feeling behind it. "But why are we sad?" The Longclaw suddenly asks, "Sure, it's not quite perfect but when is it ever? We should be happy." He offers, squeezing his arm lightly around the Runner.

Ripplefur chuffs softly in grudging amusement, squirming into a slightly more upright position, though no farther from him than she had been before. "I am happy! I am just greedy," she retorts, tugging teasingly at his whiskers.

Silvereye chuckles lightly, mrring as she tugs on his whiskers. "So, this is the first time you've seen the ocean, right?" He asks, quirking one eyeridge upwards and turning towards her.

"Yes," Ripplefur admits after a moment; not out of embarrassment, but simply reminded of the sea's overwhelming nature. "It is...so flat. And so wide. It sounds like it is always grumbling...and the smell is strange, like nothing I have smelled before."

Silvereye nods absently, releasing the Runner while he removes his light overjacket. "Well." The Longclaw begins. "It is not just enough to see it, you know." He sets the garment next to him and kicks off his sandles. "You need to go in it." Absently uttering a mrrl of protest as her comfortable haven in the circle of his arm slips away, Ripplefur blinks at his actions before her eyes widen and she mumbles something not-polite sounding in her own dialect before echoing incredulously, "*In* it?"

"Yep." Silvereye responds easily, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He rises, dusting some of the sand out of his fur. "Might be a little cold this time of night an' I'm sorry if your fur isn't totally in yet, but I'm afraid my hands are tied." He pauses, planting his paws on his hips and looking over the sea. "So get up. Let's go."

"You are not sorry, if you are making me go!" Ripplefur exclaims, aghast, her eyes skittering rapidly between him and the intimidating waters. "What do you mean your hands are tied? I see no one forcing you!"

"Tradition." Silvereye replies sagely with a shallow bob of his snout, tailtip twitching before hovering above the sand with a slight curl behind him. "It's gotta kinda a nice...wholeness in it. Demaria is deserts an' seas, few jungles. You been in the desert and jungles, you've gotta go into the sea sometime." He glances down at the Runner, amusement plain on his features. "C'mon. I'll be right here. Might want to take off the robe, make for a wet walk home."

Ripplefur's mouth works for a moment, half in shock, half in an utter inability to find the right words in his language, before she finally, dazedly stands. "But...but *why*? You...why would you want to go into the ocean?"

Silvereye shrugs, pulling his shirt off and dropping it next to his jacket. "I dunno. Why go into the desert with the Watchers poundin' your back all day, or the jungles with their quicksand or the mountains where there's no light?" He reaches for her paw, as if to lead her. "Still might not be all that comfortable afterward if your robes're all wet, Promised."

The endearment seems to shake her somewhat from her daze, as she mechanically sheds them at the reminder, staring down at them uncomfortably for a moment before she takes his paw with a shy tip of her ears back. "You are supposed to sleep when the Watchers are watching the most closely, and one simply watches one's step in the jungles and the mountains! But in the ocean...all that water...one cannot stand on it, and one cannot breathe it!"

"So don't go in deep enough to where you'll actually drown." Silvereye replies. Striding towards the large expanse of black with Ripplefur in tow. "The seas give a lot of good things. There's more to eat in the seas than in all the desert or the jungles. Fish and plants grow there, enough to keep whole communities alive." The water laps upwards, foam threatening to over take the Longclaw's toes. "Watch out for the water, it's not gonna hurt but it's salty. Not very pleasant to drink."

Ripplefur is a reluctant weight at the end of his arm, coming in slow, dragging steps while her eyes are pinned nearly unblinkingly upon the wavering line of the water's edge. "But...but...it looks like it can pull one in, swallow everything..." Silvereye shakes his head, footprints leaving wet indentations in the sand as he marches forward until finally the first waves lap over his feet, wetting his ankles. He turns back to Ripplefur. "You're more careful than that. And don't worry. I'll be right here." He wiggles his toes as the surf rises and recedes.

Ripplefur begins to curl her body in a ridiculous arch as soon as the sand becomes firm and damp beneath her feet, trying to stretch her arm out as far as it will go so that she might stay in the border of dry sand while he continues on ahead. All for naught, of course, but she tries nevertheless, ears flattened completely now, and looking halfway between misery and panic. "But...the sand is strange! I do not think I like it!"

"The sand is just wet." Silvereye replies easily, a certain amount of understanding in his tone as if he can guess at the strangeness the Runner must be experiencing but that he is determined to push that aside. "It's all right. Watch." He lets go of her paw and then turns towards wider body of water, taking a few noisy steps forward before leaping with his arms above his head, disappearing beneath the waves.

Perversely, Ripplefur tries to skitter closer as soon as he breaks that one point of connection between them, momentarily more afraid of losing the contact than the strange subtstance squishing between her toes. But as soon as he dives into the waves, her mouth drops open, frozen in horror for a moment, before she cries, "Silvereye!"

Not more than a few seconds pass between Ripplefur's cry and re-emergence of Silvereye's head just a little further out. His fur is plastered against his face and his first act upon rising is to spit out a little water but otherwise he wears a light grin. He shakes his head vigorously, clearing the extra moisture before rising out of the water, its depth only enough to barely top his waist. "Water's warmer'n I thought!" He calls to the slightly distant Ripplefur, beckoning to her with one paw. He must have missed her cry beneath the water.

Ripplefur huffs aloud, her expression arranged more in an attitude of anger and annoyance now, rather than fear. But she visibly trembles as she ventures another step forward, unable to help the reflexive flinch back when the first curls of waves begin to lap at her feet. "Silvereye," she implores, eyes fixed fearfully on the liquid substance.

Silvereye sighs, shoulders drooping slightly before he begins to wade back towards the shore. "All right." He allows, unable to hide a little bit of disappointment in his tone but as he nears his Promised he does managed to grin a little bit. "Another time. I guess we can start with the baths." He shrugs, eyeing the Runner and then glancing back at the ocean as if considering something that would probably get his bonding called off. He opts to shake the majority of his body instead, getting the excess moisture off of him and leaving his fur spiky in most parts. "Shoulda left my sandals closer." He remarks.

His manner, like nothing else, finally manages distract Ripplefur from her fears, and she looks up dejectedly at him for a long moment. Her eyes flicker, dropping back down to the stuff lapping near her toes, and gives one last shudder before she says with a falsely brave voice, "It...it cannot be worse than anything I have faced before, can it? Weapons that spit fire...my own people turning on themselves...seeing you go away..."

Silvereye grins softly, looking down at Ripplefur as she speaks. A wet paw comes up and smooths back the kit fine fur on her head, bending an ear in the process. "No. It's just water." He agrees with a slight nod. "Can't hurt you if you don't let it. Kinda nice, too." He remarks, looking up as wind gusts by. "Refreshingly cool even if it is nighttime."

Ripplefur starts at the cold trickle of water down the back of her neck, shying for a moment before she realizes what had happened. Wiping at the moisture and sniffing at the salty-tang of it, she gives the tide one last, long look of trepidation, before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. And shuffling forward. Of course, as soon as her first foot sinks ankle-deep in water, her eyes pop open of their own volition and she freezes...before forcing herself to take another jerky step forward. And another. Shivering with an almost sour look back toward Silvereye, she accuses, "It is wet!"

"It's water!" Silvereye declares with a grin, following after Ripplefur as she makes her way into the ocean for the first time. "And that's the wrong way to do it." He comments, sloshing past the Runner until the water is up to his calves and he turns back. "It's just gonna be bad as long as you go at it slow. Any kit'll tell ya that it's best to just get it over with. But you're doin' good. Keep comin'." He holds out his arms, giving her somewhere to go.

Ripplefur bares her fangs at him in unspoken retort before, stubbornly ignoring his outstretches arms, she continues to move at her own pace into the water, occasionally giving a full-body shudder as if abhorring the very thought of the continuously creeping line of damp that is now making its way up her midsection.

Silvereye chuckles lightly at the retort, not enough to seem like he's ridiculing Ripplefur but enough to speak to his general good cheer about the situation at hand. He follows next to the Runner, allowing her to set her own pace as she desires but there in case she suddenly decides to abort her entry into Blackpoint Harbor. "This is nice, isn't it? Just like a nice bath." His paws splash idly at the water.

"Bath?" Ripplefur wrinkles her nose, scowling at the water he splashes up, before stopping when the waves reach mid-chest and refusing to budge farther than that. "I do not know what 'bath' is."

"See? Now this is even deeper than I went." Silvereye informs Ripplefur, submerging his paws under the water. "And you've never been to the baths back in town?" The Longclaw asks incredulously, glancing at his Promised. "It's pretty much when you just sit around in water, get every part wet and clean yourself." He replies, "Which we'll probably have to do after this. Salt gets in the fur." Then, without any warning other than a deep inhalation of breath he disappears under the surface again.

Ripplefur is less panicked this time, but nevertheless, her anxiousness is apparent as she worriedly watches the spot where he disappeared, even walking over to pat her paws beneath the surface experimentally to search for him.

Despite the great opportunity Silvereye doesn't seem interested in mischief, and it's only because Ripplefur moves that he brushes up against her legs on his way to the surface, ending up behind her as he noisily breaks the water behind the Runner, some of the water from his exit splashing against her back.

Ripplefur squeaks ignominiously, jumping first at the unexpected and unfamiliar brush against the backs of her legs, and then again at the sound of his breaching the surface and the accompanying splash. Not yet used to the drag of the water around her, she twists and overbalances while the sand sucks at her feet and the parts of her below water move at a different speed than those above...and with terrified eyes and a mouth open on a yelp that never gets voiced, she falls full length into the water with a loud splash.

"Ripplefur!" Silvereye exclaims, despite his efforts to the contrary still clearly alarmed that the Runner has gone beneath the waves. He moves as quickly as his half submerged frame will allow to where Ripplefur disappeared with a wide mouth now probably full of water, plunging his arms and then the rest of him under the surface with silver eyes open trying to find her and carry her out.

Ripplefur is not too hard to find. The tides are gentle tonight, at their lowest and no longer ebbing, and she certainly does not have enough skill to do anything more than thrash about for purchase, much less move significantly in any one direction. Panic causes her to fight off his searching arms at first, but when he has finally drawn her to the surface again, she clings desperately to him, coughing and spluttering, a wild look in her eyes.

Silvereye growls lightly as his early attempts are thwarted, pressing harder until finally he does reach her, ears flat against his skull as he hauls the full length of the Runner up and with a grunt pulls her completely out of the water so that he's carrying her diagonally. "All right." The Longclaw says, marching towards the shore. "Not quite what I had in mind." He speaks throughout her spluttering, tone more relieved than anything else. "We'll definitely start with the baths next time." He tells the Runner as he leaves the water, setting her down on the sand and sitting next to her, waiting for her to work through any remaining trauma.

Ripplefur trembles, not solely from the unexpected chill of being soaked and then exposed to air. Throughout the process of letting her back down on the sand, she does not let go of him, as tenacious as any sedentary sea-life glued to its anchor. A last cough, disgusted chuff, and then she sucks in a deep breath before biting out, "We will start with how to breathe while in the water, next time."

"Yeah. My fault." Silvereye admits, hugging the Runner a little bit as she retorts. "Should've just let you feel it out. Sorry you got caught by surprise there." He sighs a little bit, a small grin re-emerging on his features. "I imagine you'll want to be going home now?" The dripping wet Longclaw asks.

Ripplefur gives a little huff, and finally seems to relax a bit against him. "Yes," she immediately asserts, before she adds with a disgruntled air, "And later, you will teach me to move through the water like you do. You were not afraid at all, were you? I will not be so completely bested!"

Silvereye snorts with amusement, rising in order to walk back for their clothes. "All right. But before we do that we're gonna race home." The Longclaw replies, picking up his shirt and sliding it on, followed by his jacket. "'Cause I'm pretty sure that this is the only time I'm ever gonna have a chance of beating you in any kind of race." He picks up the Runner's robe, walking back to offer it to her. "Then you can completely best me all you want."

Both ears prick in arch surprise at his remarks before Ripplefur grudgingly accedes the point with a snort, slowly picking herself up off the sand and then looking down in disgust. "I might almost understand the logic of getting into water again if the sand clings so," she mutters, brushing ineffectually at the patches of damp granules now clinging to her.

Silvereye smirks with amusement, wrapping the Runner's robes around the now damp Demarian. "Like I said, we're gonna need a bath just to get clean again." The Longclaw remarks absently, slipping his sandles on before moving back towards the road, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his Promised is following. "Hey, tonight wasn't that bad. A nice change from just sitting around the Velvet Pillow and talking while Whitestripe says some crazy things."

Ripplefur, at first, finically tries to keep her outter robe clean by preventing it from brushing against the worst of the sand and sea-debris, but when a stray, stiff breeze blows through, she rapidly rethinks the idea and bundles it close about her. "He was not *so* crazy," she reluctantly defends as she gamely pads along after him. "He seems to exist in his own world, but he led you to tell me about being Promised."

Silvereye pauses once Ripplefur bundles the robes about her, waiting for her to approach so that he can wrap an arm around her and offer his own damp body for some warmth. "That is true." The Longclaw concedes, picking up the pace again for the road and the city beyond. "He also seems very eager to help, which could be very good in speaking with your people." He allows, nodding slightly. "How do your people conduct a bonding? I'm pretty much following what we did back home, I want you to be comfortable with it as well."

Ripplefur ponders his question for a time before she shrugs slightly and recounts, "It is an event for the entire tribe or tribes, for you are strengthening bonds, and promising to strengthen their numbers. But it also means that you must have the approval of the elders..." She lapses into uncomfortable silence for a moment, before continuing quietly, "It is not unheard of for secret bondings, or those who run away, or even those who defect to another tribe that is willing to take them and the anger of the tribe that they abandon. But those examples are rare."

Silvereye listens attentively, his gaze down the road but an ear turned towards the Runner as she speaks. He bobs his snout slightly as she concludes, silent for a moment as he collects his thoughts. "And is that what you want?" The Longclaw asks, "Or have you given up, for now, on being able to do something like this with your people? I could go, it would be no trouble, though there are some people that I would like to invite. The banns could always be given to your people, and they could reply if they wish."

Ripplefur grimaces, her brow furrowing with heavy thought, before she tilts an inquiring look up at him and asks, "Banns? What are those?"

"Nothing more than an announcement." Silvereye replies. "It really applied more to Nobles where they would actually challenge a bonding, but it's just become something of a tradition with everyone. It's a way to let everyone know that a Bonding will be taking place."

A fine-downed ear perks up, and Ripplefur nods quickly. "Yes, that is familiar. This is when the elders will listen to those for and against the bonding, and they will argue amongst themselves before passing judgment." She shakes her head slightly, at a loss as she considers the situation. "I do not know how things are on the sands and in the mountains. I have not heard from the tribes for many, many days. I do not know how they would react to the news! Or if they would even react at all."

"Only way to find out is to send one." Silvereye replies with a shrug. "Can't do any harm if it's just sent, we have a variety of ways to do it from Whitestripe to flying over there, the latter I don't think would get a very good reaction." The Longclaw admits. "Anyway, what about the ceremony itself? Here it's fairly simple, honor guards lead the Promised out and announce them and their intentions, trade weapons, then from there just about any respected person from the community can officiate and oaths are exchanged. Very flexible depending on the family."

"No, no flying," Ripplefur agrees with a wrinkle of her nose before she gestures vaguely with her paws, forming shapes in the air as she describes, "It is not so different...it is all a symbol, is it not? Many symbols, all at once. Sometimes, if the ones bonding are important to the tribes, the leaders will exchange oaths or promises to share things. The bonded will exchange promises too...and the elders will come to bless the bonding and send prayers to the Sand Mother and any other gods that might listen. The leader or leaders of the tribes will say it is done and the will of the tribes...and then they would all celebrate."

"Well," Silvereye begins on a thoughtful note after watching the Runner weave her patterns, "I can gaurantee that there will be promises exchanged between us and that there will be celebrating. Prayers there may be, I'm sure that wherever we decide to hold the ceremony we can bring a priest along. It's kind of what they do." He paues, tailtip twitching for a moment. "Guests. I think there will be some in the city who want to come and see. Perhaps some from offworld as well." He glances at the Runner as he says this, gauging her reaction.

"Priest?" Ripplefur echoes, frowning in puzzlement at him before the rest of what he says catches up and she blinks, asking tentatively, "Your friends? You have friends from offworld who might wish to come?"

"Someone who learns about the gods and how to appease them. True priests are few and far between these days." Silvereye replies. "They know about all the old writings concerning Brakir and the Sand Mother. There used to be hundreds of them in the old Temple of Brakiria, which was the largest building in old Alhira." At the mention of offworlders the Longclaw shrugs. "It's a matter of courtesy, really, I was invited to Katya's bonding so I figure I am obligated to do the same. Others might express interest when the announcement goes out, maybe those who helped me get to you about a year ago."

Ripplefur's tail twitches as she ponders. "We...do not have these 'priests'...at least, none with these special titles. The elders remember and teach us what we need to know, and the leaders make the decisions after hearing council." Her ears prick as she recalls, "Katya. I think she would be interested, yes."

"There might be others. I can't say for sure. I've made some friends off this world, and if they want to come then I am not opposed to it so long that you aren't either." Silvereye replies, nodding slowly. "Those who come from this city, well, I guess that depends where we want to hold the ceremony."

"Where..." Ripplefur hesitates, and then sighs, her ears and tail drooping. "Perhaps...perhaps we can wait to see if there is a response from the tribes, first? Or...to at least assess how the tribes are? Though...maybe it is best to do as you suggest. Just...a simple event here, amongst friends...for it seems somehow 'wrong' to spread such news while my people are in such turmoil."

Silvereye frowns, chuffing at that notion. "I don't think it's wrong. It's what we should be doing, if their madness is wrong. Who knows, might make them even more angry or it might make them think about how useless killing each other over old weapons caches while off-worlders watch is." The Longclaw notes with a hint of irritation. "But you're right. We should probably prepare the announcement soon, then."

Ripplefur does not seem much convinced by his first statement, but does not argue the point further, moving on with a bit of excitement that is mostly unforced, "Where should it be? Where do you think it should be held?"

"I don't know." Silvereye replies honestly. "There aren't many places in town that can do it, most bondings take place around the Gardens, which is a restaurant in the woods, you've probably seen it. There's always Gleaming Star if you'd like the sands. Or..." He pauses, tailtip twitching and a grin that's being suppressed squirming out. "The landing pad. It's a very special place."

"The Gardens? The...Gardens...I remember reading the words...a sign in front of a place where everyone gathers to eat?" Ripplefur mrrs as she works through his descriptions. "It is a 'restaurant'? And what you call Gleaming Star is the other city which was abandoned?" Her ears twitch perplexedly as she watches his reactions to the last possibility. "The 'landing pad'? What is it, and why is it very special?" Silvereye nods to the first two, then finds himself explaining the rest, gesturing broadly with one paw. "The landing pad. You've been there to see me many times. It's where the ships come to land and where they take off. And I was joking. It's a place where I've spent a lot of time, both before and after you arrived."

"Ah, I see...'landing pad'. That makes some sense..." Ripplefur mumbles to herself before her whiskers twitch with an answering amusement. "I see. And that device which I see you playing with so often...that you tap on sometimes, like this?" She mimes holding up a datapadd and typing upon it with one finger jabbing at air. "Should I get one too, so that we can exchange them as gifts, to show that we give even our most prized posessions over to the other?" she proposes with faux innocence, eyes gleaming up at him.

"Yes, my Promised, I would be honored to receive a datapadd from you on the day of our bonding." Silvereye replies with false sincerity, looking at the Runner. "I'm sure that all of our guests would 'oo' and 'ahh' at the lavish gifts that we are so wealthy and carefree to just give away." He smirks, looking back down the road. "Ok. I get it. We should at least try and make this thing decent."

Ripplefur stifles a laugh, pressing both paws against her muzzle. Then her mirth fades into a more wistful contentment as she too looks ahead to the road they walk upon. "It will be for us...it should be how we want it."

"Now if only we knew what we really wanted, right?" Silvereye replies as the lights of the city near. "But I'm tired and a little cold. Let's go home, warm up, get something to eat, and rest. How's that sound?"

"Let us go home..." Ripplefur murmurs, her expression softening as she takes a deep breath, and then releases it gently. Gazing upon the electric stars resting so thickly upon the ground before them, she finishes quietly, "It sounds perfect."