Maella Windwhisper


Aiciy Lyn


Cilrin Broadfeather
The picture of Hallifaxian artistocracy, this trill stands at seven-foot eight-inches, head held high in perfect posture.



Act I, Scene I

A quiet house in the village of Talthos
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M is here, tending to a once-forgotten painting

M looks startled: Oh- hello Aiciy, I didn't see- how long have you been standing there?

A flatly: Not long, I have been set to find you by Cilrin. From what I have gathered you two were to meet as of...

A stops to look at her watch: right now.

M doing her best to cover up the easel without disturbing the wet paint: Yes well I got wrapped up in something. Is he still expecting me?

A: He is waiting outside.

ENTER CILRIN
Cilrin throws the door open, his grand entrance sending the carefully balanced easel and its charge tumbling to the ground, as well as Maella and Aiciy to salvage it.

M checking on the health of her work, a worried look on her face: Cilrin! What are you doing here? Why, I was just-

C: You were being late. Again. Doing what? Tending to scribbles and fingerpaints?

M: This easel and these paints were a gift from my relatives in the city!

C: Oh please why do you concern yourself so much with that city? What? Do you really want to go there and start over again? Why, we have everything we'd ever need in Talthos.

A quietly whispering to M: Everything except good company

C: What was that?

A: I was advising Maella to be more cautious with her time in the future, Sir Broadfeather.

Cilrin raises an eyebrow questioningly
C: Very well then. Maella, come with me. We have business to attend to.

M: I thought we had a date- and oh my painting is still a mess...

A: Don't worry I will attend to your work, frie-

C with an interrupting sigh: Yes, a date, work, it's the same thing.

M: Ve-very well then. Farewell Lyn, sorry to leave you with this mess.

A: It's no problem, friend. Trust me.

C taps his watch arrogantly.

Maella's head sinks as she steps next to Cilrin who takes her arm under his and leads the both of them out the door.
EXIT MAELLA, CILRIN

A gives a broken sigh.

A shakes her head and says: Oh friend, what will become of you.