Beginnings [Reivyn]

Mid-morning: sunny, bright, and not too hot. In Rowan's opinion, morning was the best time of day. Then again, she always had liked beginnings; morning her favorite time of day, spring her favorite time of year. She was born in the spring. Maybe it said something about her. Rowan had always been one for beginnings. New beginnings, old beginnings; beginning a life, beginning a friendship, beginning a love. Even simply beginning a day. Endings held a satisfaction of a job well done; beginnings held promise of something grand to come.

It was only a pity that she hadn't gotten up earlier than she had. She'd slept in a bit today; Swirl's usual alerting chirp by her ear hadn't come. The green had decided to sleep elsewhere, so it seemed. Rowan did not mind overmuch, nor did she begrudge her green friend; simply that she was in a creative mood this morning, and it would have been wonderful to capture the dawn in a drawing. She had missed that opportunity, but her fingers had been twitching to sketch something, so she had taken her supplies down to Therma Lake, intending to draw what she saw there. She already had a few drawings of the lake, but there was always room for more.

Light blue eyes studied the wide expanse of water; the way the light of the sun glanced off the clear surface; how the water kept up the slightest motion, due to the thermals that gave the lake its name, though there wasn't a breath of wind. Right hand held the pad of paper in place as left flew over the page, deftly recreating the scene with a fine pencil. Her fingers moved almost without thought; they knew what they were doing.

Part of Rowan's mind was free to wander elsewhere while she worked. She sat in a carefree way, legs not under her but rather stretched out beside her, as she semi-crouched over her work. Sun shone onto her bright auburn hair, giving at an almost deem gold tinge; her nearly waist-length hair was splayed around her, while the curlier strands around her face hung down, partly obscuring her face; she absently tossed them to one side to clear her vision. She was here, in this beautiful place on this beautiful day, but her mind was elsewhere.

It was on the Hatching Sands, as if often was these days, by the hardening eggs of the second clutch. Imagining the dragons inside. It was like something out of a dream, that the mythical Terran beasts were suddenly a reality in Pern. Rowan could imagine almost nothing better than to be bonded to one of them, as she had seen others bond during the first Hatching. They had all been so beautiful - the large Golds, the strong Bronzes, the able Browns, the sensitive Blues, the agile Greens. All of them. So wonderful. Rowan often dreamed about them; would she Impress, like the others? What color would her beauty be? What would their name be? What would they be like?

There was no way of knowing, not until it happened. But Rowan liked to wonder. A weight on her shoulder and a chirp beside her announced the arrival of Swirl, and Rowan smiled. She had Swirl, and that was enough for the moment. she took a break long enough to reach up and stroke the green firelizard lightly, and Swirl crooned in response, leaning over to examine the candidate's work. The green always liked to watch Rowan draw; the artist had to keep her pet away when she decided to sculpt, or do some pottery, though, because if not she'd have a curious firelizard up in her work.

Rowan smiled as she finished the sketch, and leaned back to examine it. Her drawing showed the wide expanse of lake, and some of the surrounding land. The carolina blue sky, holding wispy clouds, was also present. She was relatively pleased with it, though nothing she could draw could ever truly capture the beauty of this place. "What do you think?" she asked Swirl. "Should I color it in, or call it a day?" The green warbled pointedly, flicking a tail at the drawing as if urging her owner to continue.

Rowan grinned at her. "As you say, O Great One." She picked up her pack of colored pencils, considering. After a moment of thought she pulled out a shade of blue, and got to work on coloring the lake. She'd color in the picture first, then work on shading. Hm. Maybe I should try pastels next time, she mused thoughtfully. It would make an interesting change. She resolved to come back out in a few days with her pastels, and make another picture. Then she could compare them.

She started humming as she worked on her drawing, and soon the humming transformed into a soft song, her light, high voice carrying the tune of a song about the land she was from.

" I've met some folks
Who say that I'm a dreamer
And I've no doubt
There's truth in what they say
But sure a body's bound to be a dreamer
When all the things he loves are far away

And precious things
Are dreams unto an exile
They take him o'er
The land across the sea
Especially when it happens he's an exile
From that dear lovely Isle of Inisfree

And when the moonlight
Peeps across the rooftops
Of this great city
Wondrous though it be
I scarcly feel its wonder or laughter
I'm once again back home in Inisfree

I wonder o'er green hills
Through dreamy valleys
And find a peace
No other land would know
I hear the birds make music fit for angels
And watch the rivers laughing
As they flow

And then into a humble shack I wander--
My dear old home--
And tenderly behold
The folks I love
Around the turf fire gathered
On bended knee
Their rosary is told

But dreams don't last
Though dreams are not forgotten
And soon I'm back
To stern reality
But though they pave
The footways here with gold dust
I still would choose
My Isle of Inisfree"

It was such a beautiful song, about her own homeland; and so fitting it was to her, as if it had been written for her and only her. She loved to sing it, back on Earth when she had harbored dreams of going back to Ireland when she was old enough. It was hard sometimes, knowing she'd never be able to go back there now that she lived on Pern, but it was a sacrifice she'd willingly taken, and she knew she wouldn't change anything if she had the choice. Though she would not stop herself from dreaming. IF all else failed, she'd always have her dreams.

((real song - you can listen to it here...it's beautiful ^_^))

Reivyn loved exploring, she always had. Now ever since coming to Pern her life had been filled with one adventure after another. She hated that she didn't have anyone to share these moments with yet but she also knew that it was only a matter of time before she found that perfect someone. Now once again she was exploring, this time near the lake that she'd heard so much about. As she neared, she caught little wisps of a song. Soft honey eyes slowly closed and she paused to listen to the song. Being a Performer by trade, she loved music and arts of all kinds and this was no different. As the song faded, she moved to find the one that had sung the words so beautifully.

What she found was a young woman she guessed was around her age and a beautiful green firelizard that sat with her. Clearing her throat and putting on her best smile, Reivyn bounced over to the woman's side. "Good day to you. Isn't it such a lovely day. You'll pardon my interuption but I heard the most wonderfully beautiful song and had to see the voice that belonged to it. That was you singing, wasn't it?" She shook her head, her white-blonde hair floating around her face, before she extended a hand in greeting. "I'm Reivyn, by the way, a Performer by passion and trade." She wouldn't give out her full name, there was no sense to it. Maybe this girl would be her friend, Reivyn hoped so.

Rowan continued to absently hum the dreamy tune after the song was done, as she colored in her drawing. Finishing the lake, she sat back to compare the coloring. A slight crease appeared in her brow when she realized she'd gone a shade too dark; she always tried to mimic the nature of whatever she true as closely as possible...and she'd chosen the wrong shade of blue, giving it a darker look than it really had. After a moment, though, she shrugged; no matter, when she shaded the picture, giving it depth, she would add lighter blue highlights and perhaps that would cover the mistake. Not that anyone except her or perhaps another artist was likely to notice, on second thought....but she always liked to be precise in her drawings.

With another small shrug she bent over the drawing again, being careful to pick the right shade of carolina blue for the sky; that was easy, for, being a fan of drawing nature, she had much experience with skies, and had a collection of colors specifically for the use of coloring skies, from which she could pick. It was a very pretty, bright color today; this was another reason she loved to draw scenes in the morning, for the sky was often very pretty in that time, light and sweet.

The sky she finished coloring quickly; it was much easier than the landscape. Now to work on said landscape; it was always a challenge, getting the colors right, and relished the difficulty of it. Her hand was hovering over several shades of green when a voice spoke overhead.

"Good day to you. Isn't it such a lovely day. You'll pardon my interuption but I heard the most wonderfully beautiful song and had to see the voice that belonged to it. That was you singing, wasn't it?"

Rowan looked up, shaking away the curly red hair that clung to her face. While she'd been concentrating on her work, a young woman had approached. The woman, who looked to be slightly younger than Rowan, had striking white-blonde hair that was pulled back, and pretty honey-brown eyes. Rowan offered her a smile. "It is; it's a wonderful morning," she agreed, light blue eyes raising to the sky for a moment as she contemplated the sun; it was undoubtedly getting higher in the sky...noon couldn't be more than an hour or so off. Then she remembered the woman, and looked back at her with an apologetic smile. She was a little caught off guard by the fact that she'd been heard singing...she'd thought she'd been alone out here. But she pushed any senseless wisps of embarrassment away; so what if the woman had heard her singing?

"Yes, that was me," she agreed, standing up politely so that she could talk properly (Swirl chattered at her for the movement), though she was slightly reluctant to leave her work. But it could wait; she could go back to it later and talk to this girl now. "I'm glad you enjoyed it...though I do admit I thought I was alone when I sang it...I didn't think anyone would hear."

"I'm Reivyn, by the way, a Performer by passion and trade."

Rowan accepted the extended hand with a friendly smile, interested to hear Reivyn's profession; a performer, eh? Another artsy person. "I'm Rowan - Rowan Trelawney - and this little girl here is Swirl." She indicated the firelizard on her shoulder, who chirped sweetly to Reivyn. "You have a nice name," she complimented genuinely. "You're a performer? That sounds like fun. I'm an artist - as you can see," added the redhead, gesturing to her half-finished drawing. "I was just working on a sketch - I do like to sing when I draw, sometimes."

"Yes, that was me, I'm glad you enjoyed it...though I do admit I thought I was alone when I sang it...I didn't think anyone would hear."

Reivyn only grinned. "You shouldn't be embarassed by such a wonderful gift. I'm sorry I snuck up on you but I was entranced by the music." The smile got even bigger when the girl introduced herself.

"I'm Rowan - Rowan Trelawney - and this little girl here is Swirl."

Reivyn nodded. "Rowan and Swirl then. Those are lovely names. When did you get your firelizard? She's so adorable." Questions were the best way to make friends after all.

"You have a nice name....You're a performer? That sounds like fun. I'm an artist - as you can see, I was just working on a sketch - I do like to sing when I draw, sometimes."

Reivyn smiled brighter, happy this girl was so nice, maybe she'd make a friend out of this after all. "Thank you, yours is pretty too. And yes, I am a performer. I dance and sing, and play many instruments. What about you, with that voice, you must be a musician or a singer or something."

Rowan shook her head. "You didn't sneak or anything, I was just absorbed." Of course, that always happened; Rowan got into the rhythm of her artwork and didn't surface until she was done, or interrupted - be it by hunger, sleep, Swirl, or someone else. She quirked a half-smile for the repeated praise, something she wasn't used to for much besides her art. She'd never exactly thought of herself as a wonderful singer or anything - sure she liked to do it when she was alone, and she knew she had a fair voice, but 'fair' was as far as she'd go with it.

"Thank you," she said in response to the compliment - well both actually, of her voice and her name. She grinned at the question. "Oh - nearly a year ago, I managed to Impress her, and so glad she did. " Her grin grew wider. "I remember I was making a bowl when she woke up the day after, and she came over and stuck her claw into the clay. Made a very nice swirl on the bottom for me. That's where her name came from."

Swirl, becoming aware she was being talked off, leaned forward to examine this new person with a small trill. She seemed nice - her Pet seemed to like her - and Swirl decided that maybe here was a friend. Maybe she'd get fed or stroked if she was nice. She fluttered over to Reivyn, and chirped sweetly, sticking her head out towards the girl's hand pointedly.

Rowan chuckled. "She's very friendly, but usually expects payment for it, either in food or a good rub. If you want you can stroke her headknobs; she really likes that." She listened to Reivyn's answer, and raised an eyebrow. Wow, now here was a jack of all trades - in art, at least. Singing and dancing and performing and all? "That must have taken a whilw to learn all that," the redhead remarked. "But me, no, I'm an artist and nothing more. Singing's just a hobby."