The night's adventure after I left the girls at the stream had left me with a clearer idea of what I wanted and I dare say .. needed ... for the catcher. This was different from what I had so recently toyed with in my own dreams.Much different.
It is perhaps easily missed .. the import of dreams. Even on a basic level we are constantly given messages .. shown the path to solving problems ... given creative outlets that the busy give-and-take of survival tends to bury beneath routine and mind numbing repetition. Sometimes it is merely the brain's Year Keeper shuffling through memories and tagging a few here and there with colored pegs for later access. Sometimes what gets cut out lays around on the floor like scraps in a Leather worker's wagon. It can look .. from the outside ... like confusing and unreal visions as each piece of memory is scrambled with others. The mind .. while shedding and cleaning up those scraps ... can sometimes disturb the conscious if we just happen to witness the sweeping up of all those bits.
So finding the messages within the scraps and bits is sometimes not an easy thing to do. Finding the difference between the mind's Year Keeper cleaning and tagging .. and the mind trying to communicate with the conscious. Subtle messages that reach us that we have never learned .. or forgotten how to interpret. So like an Artisan .. the mind will attempt to paint great visions using the pictures and sensations it has to work with .. usually built from scraps. In these visions are messages. Something the mind wishes the conscious to know and understand. It could be something about the person themselves. Some hurt or pain that needs to be healed. Sometimes physical and sometimes mental. It could be a message brought to the person on the energies that surround us .. a message about someone else. Sometimes it is about things that have happened .. sometimes it is a portent of things to come. We as Haruspex do not always get these messages strait from the energies itself ... sometimes we interpret those messages given to others. We read how the energies impact the things around us .. the messages left written on the world. And sometimes those messages are written in the dreams of others.
It was all these things and more I was contemplating as I strode along the edge of the stream .. finally realizing that I was not alone. Seveya sat on a colored blanket painting small stones. She asked me how I was and I admitted I was a little distracted. I asked her about the stones ... she asked me what had me distracted. She told me they were stones for Tarra ... I told her I was making a dream catcher. She asked me if it was dangerous .. and I told her it was no different than making any other tool of trade. Like making a paintbrush. The dangerous part is not always making the tool .. it is sometimes all tangled up in the application.
It was then I remembered the paintbrush in my vest pocket and I took it out to hand to her as I continued to talk about the making of tools. I told her just as an Artisan would make a paintbrush to fit his needs and talents ... so I would make the catcher to strengthen my own weaknesses and expound on my natural and learned abilities ... unique to me and to my project.
Seveya told me instantly that the brush was not hers .. her father's brush had black bristles. I was about to suggest she take a closer look .. when she asked to do so. Perhaps .. I thought ... something had happened to the brush between the time she lost it and the point I found it? A closer look should reveal if it was recognizable by any other means than the first glance.
She mused that perhaps the brush was faded .. stating she had seen the power of the Central Fire to dim colors. But I told her .. by the look of the wood .. it had not suffered the elements for long. The condition of it was too good to have been outside under the Central Fire or beneath the water for very long at all.
After inspecting it further she answered my questions by telling me this brush was something new to her .. something she had not seen before. I told her I was sorry for that .. that I had not been able to find her father's brush. I knew it was important to her.
I asked her if she wanted it .. the brush. She said she did. I told her I was curious of it .. and I asked her to tell me how it performed for her. We spoke briefly of tools and how each one was different before I saw the edge of thoughts held back in her features. I asked her of them .. her thoughts ... and she asked me if it could be perhaps an omen? Perhaps she was meant to lose her brush so that this one would find its way to her? I told Seveya that it was a part of my Clan .. as Haruspex ... to find importance in events. So of course it was not out of rational thought to believe this was meant to happen .. perhaps meant to happen to her specifically for a reason. I told her it was why I wished to know how it worked .. how it painted ... I wanted to know the story of the brush after it left my hands because I saw portent in the way it had come to light.
She studied the brush further and told me she might have an idea what the brush was meant for and she wanted me to be there when she used it for the first time. Well .. the idea fascinated me and I asked her what for .. she misunderstood me and answered why she wanted me there. I told her what I actually wanted to know was .. what she thought the brush was meant for. She replied a new vision .. a new path ... a new direction.
At this point Mezoo joined us and asked her own questions of the Artisan catching up on what we were talking about. Seveya asked me if I would come watch the brush's debut performance and I told her of course I would .. I was very curious myself. I felt more the messenger here than the omen reader. I was here to deliver .. not so much to interpret. I was as much in the dark as to what it meant than anyone else. I think Seveya knows more .. knows the tool for what it is even if she is not sure yet what will happen when she uses it.
This omen is for Seveya to read and interpret.
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