Sumeru City is but a single plot in the Dendro Archon's garden. Even now she does not mettle in their affairs any more than she has to, hesitant to influence the direction their society might grow in. Still, there are times a guiding force is needed. Sometimes humanity strays, succumbs to greed and chases short-sighted gains, wields knowledge as a well-honed tool against an environment that cannot defend itself from this stripe of predation.
The Forest Rangers have sworn themselves to its protection, assembled settlements in the trees and become guardians of verdure, of the lifeblood of the land, and the creatures the inhabit the wilds. Before them, it had been the Aranara who watched over the woodlands, serving a higher being lost to time.
Her eyes close in the sacred palace she has resided for five-hundred years, drinking in unearthly quietude as her mind drifts further out. She meanders through dense underbrush on the four paws of a Rishboland tiger and stalks her realm, breaking into a run swifter than the finest athletes. Large, furry ears perk up with attention at once, tail abstractedly swishing behind her.
Suddenly, Nahida is lounging on branches, sharp talons curled around a thin perch of bark. She tests her newfound wings, flapping both experimentally and does not utter a sound. Higher up, a true dusk bird soars off after being startled. Skittish things, they are.
Feathers rustle as she cranes her head to peer down at the curious man beckoning. Hopping along a tree limb, she approaches cautiously where the others have fled, maintaining eye contact all the while.
"What brings you here, traveler? Are you lost?" queries a sweet-sounding, girlish voice.
“I didn’t think that my singing was that bad,” Kaeya remarked as birds took to wing, losing sight of them as they disappeared between verdant branches. Except, it seemed, for one. The creature caught and held his gaze as it flitted closer to perch nearby, defying the instincts of the rest of its compatriots who had already fled. There was something both curious and unsettling about this dusk bird, he realized; there was an almost human-awareness in its eyes, as if it knew much more than it ever should.
And then it spoke.
He’s taken aback, but manages to maintain most of his composure before the strange creature, brow raised as he regards it — her? There were many things in his life that he knew not to question, to accept them as just being, but it wasn’t everyday that one came across a bird such as this. And the further he studies her, the more inhuman she becomes.
“Not lost, no. Just wandering.” Being lost implies intention. Kaeya had stepped into the forest with no destination in mind, but he was confident he could find his way back.
He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, a charming, though sheepish, grin finding its way to his lips. “Pardon me, I’m not used to speaking with the local fauna.” He steps forward, inspecting her more closely, trying to divine what in the world she could be. Not a true bird, but then what? Some sort of spirit able to shift forms perhaps, or one that could possibly possess the bodies of animals.
“If I may, do you have a name?” His smile is easy, relaxed — practiced.