Bleeding Heart 74 Spirit Whisperer

He flashed her a smile as she did so before focusing on his meal. Supper was not all that much. It was amazing that it even tasted halfway decently but Miria was amazing at cooking. Even with such limited supplies she could still work with it to make something that was appealing to the stomach.

"Wow! This is amazing!" Dawn looked over at the young man who had joined them for their meal. His yellow eyes were wide and he was smiling in appreciation.

Miria blushed shyly, and looked down. "It's not that great. Just some simple stuff really."

"Well, after having to eat my own cooking for so long… I think this is pretty good." He laughed happily, "All I can make is stew. Which is all well and good but after eating it three years straight I'm a little tired of it."

Miria gave him a pitying look, "Well, eat up. I'm glad you like it."

He nodded and focused on his food. Happily munching, he fell silent. The first real silence he had since they had met him. The teen talked constantly, as if he was incapable of stopping. Apparently, he was, so long as someone put food in front of him.

There was a lot about their guest that Dawn did not understand. His total relaxation around strangers was not very Nix'Rylian. Mem had been relaxed around them, but she had strength to back it up and had met them when they did not seem all that dangerous.

But this boy had seen them at their very best. Working together well even. And yet, there was no nervousness. Instead he seemed to just take it for granted that they were friendly and would not suddenly just attack him.

Though, from the fact that he was carrying a bow with a broken string, he was probably not the smartest guy in the world…

He was nice though. A bit talkative but extremely friendly. Seriously talkative. At times he seemed to be talking to air for the sake of talking.

And she still had no idea what to call him. It did not seem quite right to call him by his family name. For some reason she could not explain, Dawn just had a feeling he would rather they did not call him Shadowstar. Though, when he had first said the name it had been with pride, his voice had then taken such a dismissive tone that it was impossible to not notice.

So, they just were referring to him by calling him boy and using a lot of hand gestures. He seemed perfectly at ease with this.

But after they had finished eating Dawn grew aware of someonw's slight uneasiness. Gysen kept muttering to himself, and looking at the boy.

She finally asked the older man what the matter was.

"I have no idea what a spirit-whisperer is and how powerful they are," Admitted the usually rather knowledgeable guy, "I've never met any before. I don't even have the simplest idea of what it means to be one."

"You could ask him." She shrugged, "I doubt he could keep himself from answering."

"He does seem to have very little control of his own tongue." The sorcerer nodded. Then he stood up and walked over to where the young man was helping with washing up from the meal, "Hey, can I ask a question, youngling?"

"Ask away!" An easy grin came to the face of the strange young man, "I can always refuse to answer, right?"

"Of course, I was just wondering… you called yourself a spirit whisperer. What exactly is that?"

"O-oh." He faltered. "It's actually not all that common. And its hard to explain. I mean technically someone could learn how to do it, but as far as I know I come from the only family which has one every generation…" He rubbed his neck, a bit embarra.s.sed, "Basically, spirits naturally like me… and they give me advice constantly. Pull me out of dangerous situations – usually against my will – and come very near to putting me on some weird pedestal."

"What exactly do you mean by spirits? Are we talking like ghosts or-?"

"Oh, no, not ghosts." He laughed now. "Spirits. Tree spirits. Water spirits. Wind spirits. Land spirits. Other kinds. Air spirits in particular like me… though Dryads are strangely fond of me as well. Does that answer your question?"

"I think so."

Dawn had listened to the entire conversation. And she wondered if this was why the man was so unafraid of them. If he constantly was being looked after than perhaps his sense of survival had worn down as he simply did not need it.