It was one foggy morning that I saw a lonely shadow going down the road to Kw'eanşr. They looked agèd and short, huddled in a cloak and with a wobbly gait. I couldn't hear their breath, though I could see them trembling beneath their thick garb. I called forth: “O, elder! Are you not weary from your journey? Come by my fire and you can regain what energy you need to get to Kw'eanşr.”
The figure turned slowly and stiffly, hobbled over to where I had stepped into the road, and together we entered my little house – whose size is barely enough for three persons. Once inside, I helped their cloak off – it was soaked heavy with water from the clouds blanketing the highlands around us. No wonder you're trembling, I thought to myself. As I helped their cloak off, the tired soul stood upright and revealed to be female, barely older than me. She slightly adjusted her height, and I unmistakably noticed a beak on her face. A few clicks of stiff limbs and the unfurling of wings released a croaky sigh from her tired throat.
Parched, I noted, so I emptied some water from my condensation butt and offered her a stone cupful. She had already settled down on the slated floor, and sipped from the cup
while holding it steady with her left wing. She never took the other wing out, nor could she, for it seemed fixed in place.
I queried: “What happened to your arm, is that why you journey by foot?” She articulated herself with a bursted chirp and some blinking to confirm my query. I looked over it briefly, then turned
back. “I don't see birdfolk around here let alone many humans… this is certainly rare.” I sighed and we both glanced about the small, grey room. Cool stone made the walls and floor,
though the outside breeze was cut off and the fire smouldered enough to keep the room cosy.
She then croaked with rising intonation, gesturing at the cup. More water. Shame her cloak is drenched in the stuff. I suggested she stay for a while longer for aliment after I passed
her another cupful of water, though she rustled in denial and tapped her toes, eager to continue her travel. So I removed what water I could from her cloak by squeezing into my firepot, then
I flattened it out so the creases would not take. I helped wrap it around her, careful of her damaged wing. Confusion settled in: How could she don it in the first place?
Perhaps other people have helped her, too…
I watched her wander away from my abode, onto the road, with a sturdier gait than before and she cooed goodbye. “Farewell!” I replied. Soon, she vanished amidst the clouds as quickly as she had appeared.
That was the first birdsoul I'd ever seen in person – the only soul in countless moons, even. Yet it was a very memorable experience, with as much intercourse as any other
traveller who has ever passed this house – we understood eachother without a hitch.
Perhaps she might not be the only stranger who comes down to this stark land. In a way, I hope she visits again – It gets too cold and clouded sometimes.