Brown's anxious joke warrants a sidelong glare from Weasel, who still gasps for breath. The ape-like teen pulls his younger sister closer and keeps his arms protectively around her only for his gaze to get dragged upwards as realization dawns upon him. He seems to forget to breathe, his eyes widening at the sight of the beyond-gargantuan creature that appears, wreathed in fire which outshines even the illustrious fireworks, and alights upon a nearby sky-bound island. When Weasel's dazed nature wears off, he appears to have regained his breath. Odaya's childlike wonder, however, was not enough to stay her piercing gaze from sweeping the island ere long.

"Pffff." Odaya begins to chortle in a ceaseless laugh as she twists in Weasel's arms and clambers partially onto his shoulders. She begins pointing at each and every single person present and laughs with increasing intensity until at last she goes tumbling over Weasel's shoulder and onto the ground, clutching at her stomach as she doubles over. "Y-You're all freaks!- You're blue- she's a deer!- Paper boy paper boy-" And, at last, her gaze fell on Damon. "-And Freakshow's showing his true colors!"

Somehow, when she said 'freakshow', it sounded truly endearing rather than Weasel's outright cruelty. Like, to her, it wasn't a bad thing in itself. She manages to her feet, Weasel rubbing his throat as if realizing he could breathe easier. At last, Weasel rises to his feet and in silence quietly studies each of those present. His fiery eyes memorizing everyone's faces and changes without judgement- his cruelties were planned and thought out, not prejudiced, and if there were to be any nicknames, prods, pokes, or conflicts they could come with time. The Big Fish, as it were, was out of familiar waters. His gaze sweeps over the pool of sweet waters as the last of them emerges; Alycia, sister of Aleyn, gasping and trembling on the bank. The young girl struggled for breath as Weasel had, but her eyes were locked on Freyja rather than worried for herself.

Alycia's hair flowed, wisplike and shadowy about her face and shoulders. Her hair ties appear to have gone missing in the transition to the Dreamlands, and with every breeze that passed over the island her hair billowed with it in the manner of smoke on the wind. Cloudlike, if not for the brown colors that shifted and swirled in on itself, which seemed to broadly describe her appearance now in general; she seemed to be possessed of a 'floatiness'. As she crawled out of the waters, it was clear that at times she displayed a simple weightlessness and would drift forward rather than touch the ground- but was unaware of this herself, and her movements seemed required for to transport her despite this semi-hovering state. Cloudlike was a good word, if a cloud of shadow was bound to the earth by tether.

When Alycia's hand touched Freyja's face, it was as if a shock went through them both. Suddenly Alycia ceased her gasping and seemed at peace; Freyja's eyes shot open and in a blur the cloven-girl was upon her hooves, stumbling in dizziness and the efforts to regain her balance. She failed, at first, but David's offered arm was there and she clung to him desperately, stumbling against his tin side in full- her antlers clanging against his shoulder in the process. She was briefly dazed by all these sensations, but squinted in an unseeing manner at David as she squeezed his arm in her hands.

"Here." Alycia said, offering up Freyja's glasses. At the familiar voice, Freyja held out her hand and pulled the glasses on- only to gasp and step away from David. Her footing was now sure with her regained eyes, and the strangeness of this initial presentation of the metal-man before her. Recognition flashed in her amber eyes and she placed a hand against her lips as if to shield her surprise.

"David?" She looked about frantically. "The lake- The raft- the bell!-...A Dragon?" Her rising panic stopped in its tracks and she stared at the slumbering behemoth's visage in the distance, lost to the world briefly in her own thoughts.

[quote=Audrey Springer]
[color=a0410d]"This nice man is here to help us out, let's ask him what's going on, okay? You're safe, Tobes, I got you."[/color] 

As she spoke, she looked sharply at the stranger, as if to say [color=a0410d][i]That had[/i] better [i]be why you're here.[/i][/color]

[/quote]

Audrey's words left her lips, and as if drawn by her gaze the pale figure strode at last to the midway point of the bridge and bowed low to the arriving teenagers. His long braid fell forward over his shoulder as he performed this estranged kowtow, but he made a flourishing gesture and caught the bulk of it upon his arm to stop it from dragging upon the bridge itself. He remained like that for a few seconds, before rising back up to his full height and gazing down from the pinnacle of the arcing bridge.

"I am Eckehart, herald of Rulania."

His lips moved strangely, but the words that left them arrived at your ears in your common tongue. If one were trying to read his lips it would have been incomprehensible, but the air itself thrummed with comprehension beneath the unending notes of The Song. Oh, the Song, how it beckons! His voice was the quiet whisper-speech of one to whom silence is more natural than speaking, but it was a voice pleasing to the ear in its own way. A voice for sharing secrets with, in the quietude of a library.

"The True Voice has been waiting a long time for you. Come. Follow and be merry for this is the Eve of the New Year and you are guests of honor. Stray not from the path I take, lest you get swallowed in the festivities. All will become clear as we travel."

And with that, Eckehart turned and strode away in impossibly long steps. The man was mostly leg if his walking was to be any indication.

Weasel frowned and cast a glance to Ambrose; "I don't like this, this is too...Good." He concludes lamely, his words echoing the underlying sensation filling everyone- this was [i]good[/i]. "I'll watch your back if you watch mine." And with that, he hefts Odaya up onto her feet and begins to follow Eckehart with her in tow. Even in this paradise, with the Song flowing over them, Weasel's response to all things good and wholesome was to be worried and skeptical. This was, perhaps, the most insight anyone present besides Brown had into his mentality in years of knowing him.

"Will has wings." Freyja says in the manner of one whose thoughts escape their lips. "Wow." It was idle but an observation which seemed uniquely astounding to her. Her reverie ended swiftly thereafter, and she grinned widely. "Damon, at least you have feet!" She prances forward lightly on her hooves, the shrine maiden uniform billowing about her movements. "I have no idea what a Rulania is, but I'm dying to meet it. Gods above, if it's the thing that's singing right now then [i]she[/i] has a voice I could listen to forever."

It seems Freyja was hearing a girl sing with this revelation...

And thus the path seems natural to follow.

[b]The sights you all witness will be grand and strange. Feel free to embellish your travels through the city of Xaktin in colorful and fantastic ways. The island you are leaving is already high up on the city's structure, meaning that the trip will be shorter rather than longer and Eckehart is an easy figure to follow; any crowds in the streets part for him and allow easy following. Most beings in the city are bipedal and humanoid in shape, but all are strange and clearly not [i]human[/i] in origin like yourselves- at least, not humans from your own Earth if they are. Of note, there are handfuls of beings of myriad shapes and sizes who have the same symbol as Eckehart upon their throats, glowing golden and gentle as The Song washes over the city. These beings appear to be of some import, but do not hold themselves in superiority over the average denizens of the city. Indeed, scarce few- Eckehart being the notable one- are doing anything besides engaging in the revelry of the celebration...

But as You All pass by, in the wake of Eckehart, each one of these throat-symbol-bearing-beings turn and bow to you. Vendors from their stalls even offer mundane gifts of trinkets and garb as Eckehart passes by- further clueing you all in to his particular significance.

Rowan, in particular with her distinct aesthetic, seems to receive a more broad respect from even the non-symbol-bearing crowd, and at one point in her travels she will find her hand suddenly grabbed and something placed within it from a silhouette in the crowd; she would not be able to see who performed this act, but in her hand is now a polished stone, smooth and black as obsidian, but imperfect; it was graven with etchings of the stars and moon upon it.[/b]