Inward Reflections

[Zeytan]

"To The Forrest Of Dunn The Foolhard Go & Although they soon Learn. They Seldome Return."

*Or so the old rhyme went. But Zeytan didn't intend to go into the hart of this forest. No he only intended to go so far. Just enough to cut himself off from the outside world.*

*He'd been wandering the streets Of Wolfenden on and off since his drink at the Crazed Heffier. His mind was a tempest of thoughts and emotions. He'd seen the notices annoncing the impending execution of his Half-Brother Leytan.*

*He was torn about what he had done and what he probaley should have done. He'd stayed away, his own brother the last linkage to his parerents was to die and he hadn't even gone to say goodbye to him.*

*He'd not even wrote him a letter or attempted to make peace with him. And he'd had appley oppatunity. Leytan had been staying in the Wolfs Howl Inn as he had. And what had Zeytan done had he gone to his door and knocked and at least attempted to talk to him?*

*No he'd gone out of his way to avoid him. He'd wanderd the streets he'd gone sluming it at The Heffier and other drinking establishments.*

"And now its to late."

*Zeytan sighed sadly. He pushed aside a few branches and found the place he was lookig for a small area of open space he wanderd into it and quiatly sat down crossed his legs and began to think.*

*Malark his pet Mire-Crab who had been rideing in a spechial pouch in the lining of Zeytan's cloke now scuttled out and went over to were some flowers were, he had spoted a butterfly on them and was trying to catch it.*

*Zeytan was oblivius to this he was lost now in his own thoughts trying to come to terms with the situation he was in, how he had acted and the seeming iminent death of Leytan.*

[Young Grimwold]

*Propped against a nearby tree is a butterfly net - but no ordinary one. Images of leaves and fruits have been carved into the beechwood handle, and the capacious bag is made not of conventional netting, but fine chain mail. It could hold anything from a mire-crab's emotion bubble up to a house brick.

Perhaps it is not a butterfly net at all, but something more sinister, like a pixie net. Could it be magical in any way? Why is it here? Is it an example of the kind of providence that dungeoneers would experience with so-called clue objects, or has it simply been left here by accident? If so, by whom? A local would surely know better than to risk the Greenwardens' ire with such a device; so might it belong to rich visitor to Wolfenden, a guest at the Wolf's Howl Inn perhaps? And might he or she want it back?

These are the questions that might cross Zeytan's mind if he spies the net; though he is lost in contemplation at the moment. Malark, on the other hand, has butterfly catching very much in mind; but assuming he spots the net, he is unlikely to run through (m)any of the above questions before trying to wield the thing...*

[Zeytan]

*Malark most certainly had butterfly catching on his mind. He had spent the last 5 or 6 minates trying to catch the butterfly, he would sneak up on it and then try and pounce but the butterfly was just to quick for him.*

*Just then Malark spied the net, he looked at it blankly for a few moments, trying to figure out what it reminded him off. Then it clicked Zeytan has something similer at home and he used it to catch pretty bugs.*

*Malark blew some pink bubbles in delight and scuttled over to the net. He clasped it between his to claws and picked it up. It was very hevey and Malark struggled to keep his balance as the net swayed back and forth dragging Malark with it.*

*Malark then tried to make his was over to were the butterfly was. He tired to bring the net down on it but instead the net went sideways and Malark lost his balance and fell.*

"What the!!!!"

*Zeytan said in suprise as the net fell on his head. He instictivly got to his feet, this in turned pullled Malark off his feet and left him danagaling on the end of the nets handle. Zeytan managed to pull the net off of his head and looked at it and at Malark, he roled his eyes and chuckled.*

"I think this net is a bit big for you to use Malark. Were did you find it anyway??"

*Malark pointed with one of his claws to the tree against which the net had been laying and then quickly snaped the claw back on to the handle as he felt himself slipping down.*

"Well it isn't our propetty. Most likely it belgongs to someone at the Wolfs Howl, its very finely made. And we should be getting back."

*He said looking at the sun.*

"Its getting late, we can hand this in at the bar. Come on Malark."

*Zeytan helped Malark off of the Net and placed him back into his travaling pouch in Zeytan's cloke, tucked the net under his arm. He turned breifly and looked sadly around him and then down at his feet and mummbled softyl.*

"Forgive me brother."

*Then he quickly turned on his feet and set off back to Wolfenden.*

(OOC: Zeytan will arrive back in The Wolfs Howl Inn, In looking for something.)