based on wanderer’s character story: tiny doll
the wanderer’s walk through avidya forest is accompanied by the wildlife that sings beneath the moonlight, the stars woven in a fabric of darkness, the bells on his hat that chime with every step. he tilts his hat upwards to sweep his gaze across the shadowed treetops and bushes along the dirt trail that leads to gandharva ville, a cluster of lanterns in the distance. though it is after midnight, the forest rangers remain active, ever diligent in their duty to the forest. it is precisely why he chose such a late hour to run his errand for lesser lord kusanali - the fewer people he encounters, the better.
oh lesser lord kusanali...what should i do?
the prayer is carried by the wind, desperate and lost. the wanderer halts to sense its direction of origin. dendro energy pulses from the greenery around him, wrapped in a scarf of anemo. hydro illuminates the ravine further down the slope, and along with it...a troubled soul, blessed by the dendro archon.
he lowers himself down to the ravine. a steady flow of water runs in the background, lined with a few scattered lanterns. further ahead, a young lady is seated on a fallen log, hands cupping something in front of her. he approaches, manipulating the wind to silence his movements, and notices a ripped doll in her hands. it appears to be a plush dove, with its wing torn in the middle, an eye loose, and some stuffing from the body threatening to spill out. the young lady sighs in defeat.
the wanderer lifts a finger to summon a breeze. it sweeps against her, hair swishing, bells ringing. it’s all he needs to warn her of his presence. “who’s there?” the young lady calls out.
“i saw you were troubled.” he steps into the lantern’s light, hat pulled low to hide his eyes. “i can help you mend that.”
“o-oh...” she looks down at the broken dove. “i-i know what to do, it’s just...”
now that he’s closer, he understands - her hands are trembling. “i guess today wasn’t a good day. i made so many mistakes on patrol, nearly dropped everyone’s lunch, and then i broke hasan’s doll. now, my hands won’t stop shaking so i can’t fix it!” her outburst echoes throughout the forest. the trees murmur sympathetically. “i’m sorry,” she mumbles. “it’s not very forest ranger-like of me to say all that. i’m collei - can i help you?”
he kneels and gestures at her doll. "no, but i can help you. i learned how to sew from someone in sumeru city.”
collei hesitates, but after a moment, she hands it to him, along with her sewing supplies. despite limited visibility, he threads the needle and gets to work.
he works in silence. collei watches, enraptured. his movements are small and methodical, careful and precise. the tear in the wing is remedied; the eye is back in place; and the rip on its body is sewn shut. the plush is whole, once again. “here.”
“thank you!” collei takes it back, beaming at his handiwork. “this is perfect - hasan will love it.” she looks at him. “what can i do to repay you?”
the wanderer straightens and turns his back. “i don’t need thanks. you can repay me by being patient with yourself. we all have bad days.” some more than others. lowering his hat, he melts into the darkness. “don’t stay out too late.”
he calls upon the wind to carry him back to the trail. his unspoken words linger in the air.
may your scars heal beneath the trees, child of wisdom.
