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Description
This is an old scene that once it popped in my head I had to illustrate it and write about it. As you see Mr. Wolfhead can go colourful, originally didn't plan that but then I thought it fits him and his interests that are... Yes, you guessed it, if not read the snippet. X'D His clothing was probably the most pleasing, inspiring to draw once I got the colour scheme. Wanted to add him Medieval time garb not forgetting his own touch, which as you see is quite special. ^^ His character role has began to brighten in my head, for some reason now I just want to write about him so much. Inkeri's clothing is just out of my head, not story-wise probably. Yeah I thought a long green sleeve would fit, though it barely shows in this angle too bad. ^^ One thing I can say though, Inkeri's barefooted, she doesn't understand shoes they cut the connection from mother nature! Why would anybody want them? Ahem, yes, even in cold climates, she doesn't use them because she thinks it prevents natural healing and balancing energy from the ground from getting channelled into her body...

*Story time*

Her whistle faded into a soundless wheeze that mingled into the silence of the forest. She still danced around the two mighty spruces, hand running along the bark’s rough pattern, every once in a while raising her feet, avoiding stepping onto their thick roots. These spruces understood her, they brought her joy. They stood tall like towers reaching to the sky above her, humming and swaying in her melody. They were good listeners.

She raised her hand again to swap the tree when something met with her fingers keeping her hand up in air. Replacing the roughness of spruce bark was something else. Then she sensed the fingers sliding past hers, and the whiz of fabric against her shoulder.

She turned. How trapped in the song had she been to not notice a young man slip past to stand between her and the tree? Though the whistle moment had been such a beautiful one. She paused.

A soft series of high notes brushed by her face from his partly opened mouth, ending up to a high-pitched sound a bit like a question.

Fuii, fi-iii-iii-phiiiiii. Then he turned to her, grinning from the tree's shade.

'You left it in the air as if forgetting to complete it.' He inclined his head. 'Or was that on purpose?'

She did not answer. It took her a while to understand he was talking about the melody, even longer to recognise him as one who had accompanied her in the song, to whom she had answered with her own whistle. Närhi had said that the wonder in whistling in a forest all alone was that you never knew who would answer, if anybody. Indeed, this she had not expected as she glanced at the figure that stood in the shadow, opposing her, fingers lightly pressed against hers. Before she managed to speak, he nodded and leaned in close. Inkeri twitched his close presence.

He was not quite tall. So he cannot be a Havu. Indeed, he wasn’t even dressed in anything resembling twigs or conifer spikes although the smell on him still exuded nature just not the moist and acid canvas of spruces or the stunning odour of needles that she’d strangely began to take as home. And now a different smell so strong it almost enchanted her, flowed in, confused her from the territory she had just adapted to. Yes, she new that soft, adorable smell that sang peace, calmness and empathy by its very presence. That appeared as ornaments adorning the book pages, structures and the like of the folk in stone buildings, as yet in so many of their knightly tales. The flower of balance. Rose...

The young man blew the air quietly. 'You are a strange kind of finn, he remarked, 'fear the power within a song, yet you can whistle this confidently. Don't you realise the power in whistling, or are you simply not afraid of that?' He stayed there a while longer, head cocked on Inkeri. Then the young man withdrew his hand. 'It's worth remembering.'

He circled to her other side, further from the trunk and caught her raised hand with his left this time before it touched wood, like in a dance. Inkeri didn't mind it so much this time.

The spruces hummed around them as they continued stepping past each other in the dance born in the spur. He took a step, the other hand still against hers as the light illuminated something dark on his face that stood out like breaking the balance from the sweet, rosy spell if his smell.

'It's you.' Inkeri exclaimed.

'At some point, that could've become my name already...' he mumbled.

At once, the coldness to his fingers bit into hers. Although it was not just the touch she was sure. Something, cool darkness which she could not see, hid behind that mask of his she had just now noticed, as he faced her, exposed in the light. Of course, she had heard the rumours concerning this young man from her friends. Though a person who whistled that gently could not be thoroughly evil, could he? She didn’t want to believe him to be. He gave her a light smile.

'You could make a great thorn.'

She twitched from her thoughts and stopped. Inkeri didn’t quite understand his words, then she took a closer look at his attire the sunlight now exposed, blinking. Beneath the moss-coloured cloak flaunted a wine-red, knee-length dress, beneath which a vine pattern ran along his feet hiding behind the green soft shoes, with a rose attached on each. Both his arms and legs were wrapped in bluish green. The colours together let out quite a vivid impression, certainly not even a whiff of lowly folk. Even his cloak was tied with a red rose buckle.

She thought again. Rosy patterns on his dress and tights? She was not an expert on towns folk’s dressing but the whole impression didn’t appear quite manly. With the smell added… was he a maiden charmer? If so he was probably lost. Based on his clothing, the maidens of her kind were resided outside this humid, dense forest, in their stony high structures. Or a minstrel? He sure knew how to whistle, the clothes didn’t give off a poor impression either.

Then it dawned her. Thorn. He had said it. The young man had roses all over him, even in the sheath that hang on his left side. Roses had thorns as protection. Like a knight had sword. The…

Her eyes grew wide. 'You are…'

'The Rose.' He smiled, pleased at her speed of realisation. 'Consider it. I'm sure we will meet again, Suohonhukkunut.'

It galloped in her head, as his fingers loosened from hers and his cloaked figure walked away, vanishing into the forest shadows. Inkeri just stared after him, even more confused.

Thorn. Was that true? Was that a general way the pirates were referred to inside their crew? Was that an invitation? He had said... He was... He had to be... Even if his clothes gave off nothing like sailor or even pirate the name she could believe instantly.

The Rose of fierce waves wanted her onboard his ship and why might that be? Inkeri drew her hand close to her side and pressed it into tight fist. He wanted to meet again. Well, she would have him know that she was not having any more sea. Or any more lakes and rivers. That was a world she had seen enough. She had belonged there, but that was now past. Forest was her home, new home. Better home. Be it she had been sang into swamp there in a different forest, she had been drown for days, and without her father, she would not be here now. She was not going to risk another opportunity to be sunken beneath yet a broader amount of water. No. She was not leaving the forest, be it conifers or be it leaves. The forest would remain her only home. She patted the old spruce bark, leaning against it and the tree filled her with good, comforting thoughts. Maybe she could indeed get used to here. That strange young man would sure find a better person in her place. She nodded to her own reasoning. Yes, better just forget all of this ever happened. She focused on the quietness of the forest. Yet she could not forget the encounter.
*Snippet over*

All characters, scene, story artwork © TheStarlightPrincess

The New Age of Aquarius and its technology and abundance emerges:

Somavedic Green Ultra new age healing device: somavedic.com/

:www.somavedic.fi/en/

(blocks wi-fi, 5G, assists in body's natural healing, tried it at an acquaintance, It's a blessed being! ~ ^^)

Medbed (future without hospitals, healing bed for every home <3): thegalacticfederation.com/10-0…

Our Senseless Toil Victor Schauberger (1933-1939): www.arvindguptatoys.com/arvind…

Free energy device by high-educated university professor:

thegalacticfederation.com/6-01…

Description
This is an old scene that once it popped in my head I had to illustrate it and write about it. As you see Mr. Wolfhead can go colourful, originally didn't plan that but then I thought it fits him and his interests that are... Yes, you guessed it, if not read the snippet. X'D His clothing was probably the most pleasing, inspiring to draw once I got the colour scheme. Wanted to add him Medieval time garb not forgetting his own touch, which as you see is quite special. ^^ His character role has began to brighten in my head, for some reason now I just want to write about him so much. Inkeri's clothing is just out of my head, not story-wise probably. Yeah I thought a long green sleeve would fit, though it barely shows in this angle too bad. ^^ One thing I can say though, Inkeri's barefooted, she doesn't understand shoes they cut the connection from mother nature! Why would anybody want them? Ahem, yes, even in cold climates, she doesn't use them because she thinks it prevents natural healing and balancing energy from the ground from getting channelled into her body...

*Story time*

Her whistle faded into a soundless wheeze that mingled into the silence of the forest. She still danced around the two mighty spruces, hand running along the bark’s rough pattern, every once in a while raising her feet, avoiding stepping onto their thick roots. These spruces understood her, they brought her joy. They stood tall like towers reaching to the sky above her, humming and swaying in her melody. They were good listeners.

She raised her hand again to swap the tree when something met with her fingers keeping her hand up in air. Replacing the roughness of spruce bark was something else. Then she sensed the fingers sliding past hers, and the whiz of fabric against her shoulder.

She turned. How trapped in the song had she been to not notice a young man slip past to stand between her and the tree? Though the whistle moment had been such a beautiful one. She paused.

A soft series of high notes brushed by her face from his partly opened mouth, ending up to a high-pitched sound a bit like a question.

Fuii, fi-iii-iii-phiiiiii. Then he turned to her, grinning from the tree's shade.

'You left it in the air as if forgetting to complete it.' He inclined his head. 'Or was that on purpose?'

She did not answer. It took her a while to understand he was talking about the melody, even longer to recognise him as one who had accompanied her in the song, to whom she had answered with her own whistle. Närhi had said that the wonder in whistling in a forest all alone was that you never knew who would answer, if anybody. Indeed, this she had not expected as she glanced at the figure that stood in the shadow, opposing her, fingers lightly pressed against hers. Before she managed to speak, he nodded and leaned in close. Inkeri twitched his close presence.

He was not quite tall. So he cannot be a Havu. Indeed, he wasn’t even dressed in anything resembling twigs or conifer spikes although the smell on him still exuded nature just not the moist and acid canvas of spruces or the stunning odour of needles that she’d strangely began to take as home. And now a different smell so strong it almost enchanted her, flowed in, confused her from the territory she had just adapted to. Yes, she new that soft, adorable smell that sang peace, calmness and empathy by its very presence. That appeared as ornaments adorning the book pages, structures and the like of the folk in stone buildings, as yet in so many of their knightly tales. The flower of balance. Rose...

The young man blew the air quietly. 'You are a strange kind of finn, he remarked, 'fear the power within a song, yet you can whistle this confidently. Don't you realise the power in whistling, or are you simply not afraid of that?' He stayed there a while longer, head cocked on Inkeri. Then the young man withdrew his hand. 'It's worth remembering.'

He circled to her other side, further from the trunk and caught her raised hand with his left this time before it touched wood, like in a dance. Inkeri didn't mind it so much this time.

The spruces hummed around them as they continued stepping past each other in the dance born in the spur. He took a step, the other hand still against hers as the light illuminated something dark on his face that stood out like breaking the balance from the sweet, rosy spell if his smell.

'It's you.' Inkeri exclaimed.

'At some point, that could've become my name already...' he mumbled.

At once, the coldness to his fingers bit into hers. Although it was not just the touch she was sure. Something, cool darkness which she could not see, hid behind that mask of his she had just now noticed, as he faced her, exposed in the light. Of course, she had heard the rumours concerning this young man from her friends. Though a person who whistled that gently could not be thoroughly evil, could he? She didn’t want to believe him to be. He gave her a light smile.

'You could make a great thorn.'

She twitched from her thoughts and stopped. Inkeri didn’t quite understand his words, then she took a closer look at his attire the sunlight now exposed, blinking. Beneath the moss-coloured cloak flaunted a wine-red, knee-length dress, beneath which a vine pattern ran along his feet hiding behind the green soft shoes, with a rose attached on each. Both his arms and legs were wrapped in bluish green. The colours together let out quite a vivid impression, certainly not even a whiff of lowly folk. Even his cloak was tied with a red rose buckle.

She thought again. Rosy patterns on his dress and tights? She was not an expert on towns folk’s dressing but the whole impression didn’t appear quite manly. With the smell added… was he a maiden charmer? If so he was probably lost. Based on his clothing, the maidens of her kind were resided outside this humid, dense forest, in their stony high structures. Or a minstrel? He sure knew how to whistle, the clothes didn’t give off a poor impression either.

Then it dawned her. Thorn. He had said it. The young man had roses all over him, even in the sheath that hang on his left side. Roses had thorns as protection. Like a knight had sword. The…

Her eyes grew wide. 'You are…'

'The Rose.' He smiled, pleased at her speed of realisation. 'Consider it. I'm sure we will meet again, Suohonhukkunut.'

It galloped in her head, as his fingers loosened from hers and his cloaked figure walked away, vanishing into the forest shadows. Inkeri just stared after him, even more confused.

Thorn. Was that true? Was that a general way the pirates were referred to inside their crew? Was that an invitation? He had said... He was... He had to be... Even if his clothes gave off nothing like sailor or even pirate the name she could believe instantly.

The Rose of fierce waves wanted her onboard his ship and why might that be? Inkeri drew her hand close to her side and pressed it into tight fist. He wanted to meet again. Well, she would have him know that she was not having any more sea. Or any more lakes and rivers. That was a world she had seen enough. She had belonged there, but that was now past. Forest was her home, new home. Better home. Be it she had been sang into swamp there in a different forest, she had been drown for days, and without her father, she would not be here now. She was not going to risk another opportunity to be sunken beneath yet a broader amount of water. No. She was not leaving the forest, be it conifers or be it leaves. The forest would remain her only home. She patted the old spruce bark, leaning against it and the tree filled her with good, comforting thoughts. Maybe she could indeed get used to here. That strange young man would sure find a better person in her place. She nodded to her own reasoning. Yes, better just forget all of this ever happened. She focused on the quietness of the forest. Yet she could not forget the encounter.
*Snippet over*

All characters, scene, story artwork © TheStarlightPrincess

The New Age of Aquarius and its technology and abundance emerges:

Somavedic Green Ultra new age healing device: somavedic.com/

:www.somavedic.fi/en/

(blocks wi-fi, 5G, assists in body's natural healing, tried it at an acquaintance, It's a blessed being! ~ ^^)

Medbed (future without hospitals, healing bed for every home <3): thegalacticfederation.com/10-0…

Our Senseless Toil Victor Schauberger (1933-1939): www.arvindguptatoys.com/arvind…

Free energy device by high-educated university professor:

thegalacticfederation.com/6-01…