Chatting up the Inistella [15 Hispis 4385]
While I was busy not in the slightest degree seducing Bazamvey and Hark!, Vae released the nycathath, but that was boring and unfriendly. Windigar was out having a conversation with Doöaru. I gather it went something like this.
Doöaru:"Good morning! How are your passengers getting along with my passengers?"
Windigar:"Less tense than at first, though I don't imagine that your problematical passengers are ever going to be very friendly with my perverted passengers."
The physical arrangements of the conversation are not so obvious. Wingidar was sitting on one of Strayway's occasional balconies. Strayway was sitting on one of Doöaru's scales. Doöaru was not sitting; he cannot sit. He was gliding slowly downwards, in the general direction of Srineia -- and in the general direction of most of the inhabitable universe, I suppose. He had produced an Orren-sized illusion of himself on his back, through which he could presumably see and hear.
Doöaru:"Perhaps my problematical passengers profess portentious paradigms and pretend perfection? Perhaps your perverted passengers prefer polyamorous performances and prominent protrusions?"
Windigar:"You may be wrong, you may be right, but you are certainl alliterative."
Doöaru:"It's natural for inistella. It comes from the fins, you know." The image wriggled the backs of its wings.
Windigar:"I didn't know."
Doöaru:"They are the alluring ailerons of alliteration! Or so the females of my kind tell me."
Windigar:"Oh? What are the courtship habits of inistella like? We who dwell largely upon the land -- and weakly in the water! -- are unaware of such aerial attractions." He can do it too. I presume this is because master-pilots are taught about vessels with sails and those without.
Doöaru:"Well, in the Month of Moveable Marriage -- Trandary, you call it -- in each Year of the Yum -- as we term years which, when divided by fourteen, have a remainder of three -- we gather in an inverted vortex over Vulturia. We hold dirigible dances and poetic promenades. At the end of the month, each individual inistella must mark a mate, pick a partner, select a spouse. Afterwards, we indulge our inclinations for copulation, procreation, dissimulation, aggravation, elevation, desparation, destination, and disintegration for seven years. Then comes divorce and a certain while of solitary exploration."
Windigar:"Isn't the current year 313 x 14 + 3?"
Doöaru:"Is it? Oh! It is!"
Windigar:"And the current month is Hispis, so your Vulturian vortex vows should have evolved about two weeks ago..."
Doöaru:"Alas! Arithmetic gives me the lie! Perhaps you could tell me some lies about the courtship habits of the Orren, and then we'll call it even?" [OOC note: I didn't intend the current year to be the Year of the Yum; I can't divide 4385 by 14 in my head. Oops! -bb]
Windigar:"Well, it is our invariable custom to concern a Cani to gingerly introduce us to a Gormoror who will happily point out a Herethroy who will cautiously indicate which Khtsoyis who will recommend a Rassimel who will select a Sleeth to zero in on a Zi Ri who will find a spouse for us." (In case any reading monsters are uncertain, this is not how it is done.)
Doöaru:"A complicated arrangement!"
Windigar:"But very prime. That's why I'm working for Sythyry -- zie's the last link in the chain. When we return to Vheshrame, I shall have my necessary and nifty nuptuals!"
Windigar:"Charming indeed, and indescribably romantic. Unfortunately it's not true: I have no guarantee that Sythyry, or anyone, will find a spouse for me. And the Strayway is not the best place to seek one: the Orren here all prefer Rassimel or Herethroy."
Doöaru:"Alas indeed! I share your trepidation about marital prospects; women seem to prefer clippers or trefoils."
And the conversation continued in mutual sympathy.