Submission (#6052) Approved

Ealei is already bustling, but the crowding only worsens when the Starfall Faire comes around. Bright paper lanterns hanging from the wharfs and from the branches of the elder tree, manaberries picked and split amongst the faire attendees, elnin hanging from every twisting mangrove root and branch and rock--it's all a spectacle to behold. And it's not one that Yuri is unfamiliar with, having spent the better part of two years there.

He looms from high above, safe from the noise pollution and the shoving crowds. He prefers it this way: lounging in the elder tree and watching passersby. Snacking on a manaberry or two, as he comes across them. Yuri's far from antisocial, mind, but the height of the faire edges on overstimulation. Besides, peoplewatching is far more entertaining than it has any right to be. Yuri's gaze drifts from elnin to elnin, tiny paws digging into the bark for purchase as he leans precariously forward. Nothing too exciting has happened, unfortunately, but Yuri is nothing if not patient.

... Well, generally speaking.

An hour, maybe two passes before boredom finally seeps into his bones. Dammit! It's all so... normal. (In terms of Starfall Faire, at least.) So much food passed around and so many lanterns made and hung from rocks and branches and the wharfs--not enough action. No dramatics, no arguments, no theivery, no nothing! It itches under his skin, like glowing termites crawling across his fur or bothersome seaturtles nipping at his heels. Something has to happen! He /needs/ something to!

Yuri eventually finds himself clambering down the elder tree and stalking across the wharfs of Nalnalo, hell-bent on finding (or causing) some form of trouble. Elnin and other folks chitter around him, all-too excited for things that are far below interesting, in the trenches of /average/, even! Yuri's tail twitches in annoyance (though all it amounts to is a slight quiver--zephyr tails aren't exactly known for expressiveness). And as he trots across the latern-strewn wharf, his shadow grows shorter and shorter, something that isn't noticeable until Yuri hears a squeak of discontent.

His Pomu pops out from the narrow remnant his shadow, trilling in annoyance--perhaps more a reflection of its companion than anything else. The two make quite the menacing duo after all, and Yuri can't help but smirk as soon as he notices his familiar. Apparently, they're even more on the same page than anticipated: the Pomu immediately supplies a telepathic feeling of restlessness. An itch for trouble. It chirps, then trills, and skitters off, leading Yuri off into the depths of the festivities.

They make quite the duo, the two of them weaving their way through the crowd and past stalls of food and favors and festivities. Frankly, Yuri doesn't know exactly what he's being led to, and apparently neither does his Pomu, because the two of them are interrupted by an adult elnin waving them down from their perch on some gnarled, dark mangrove roots. And, judging by their pack of lantern-making supplies, Yuri can take a guess as to what they want.

They smile at him, fetching a few more supplies with their paws and their own Pomu, and set a stack of paper and other supplies at his paws. Yuri grimaces, and his Pomu skirts between his forepaws.

"You look awfully restless," they say, a wide smile on their face. "So I wanted to try and help." Before Yuri can respond, they push the supplies into his paws. Their voice chimes, high and clear: "Happy Starfall Faire!" And then they bound back to their spot between the grooves of mangrove roots.

Yuri manages an only mildly annoyed "Happy Faire" before plodding off, supplies in tow.

And, as easy as it would be to dump the supplies off the pier, or give them away, or tear them up over some rocks standing out between the waves, Yuri can't bring himself to do it. There's something about the sincerity of the older elnin that fills him with guilt, and he can't help but growl in annoyance. His Pomu seems to share the sentiment, considering it reluctantly gathers any supplies that slip out of Yuri's grasp.

So the two of them walk more, out and away from the midst of the crowd, towards the quieter corners of the capitol. He doesn't have an exact destination in mind, but an outcrop of rocks amidst the ocean seem decent enough. The pair maneuver /very/ delicately onto the flat of the stones, worn down by the rolling waves that crash into it on the daily. It's a fine enough place to set things up, and the current isn't too high or chaotic that it'd soak his work. (Since he's resigned himself to making a lantern, if just to absolve himself of any guilt from destroying perfectly good crafting supplies.)

Yuri and his Pomu get to work without a particular plan in mind other than using all of what they got. And, hell, it's all too easy to fall into a rhythm with the soft sound of the ocean and the distant murmur of the crowd in Ealei's capitol city. Paw over paw and paper over paper. It's nice, itches the scratch for mischief. And it kills time. Soon the afternoon's thick shroud of clouds darkens into a near-overcast night, with the warm glow of the distant Faire and scattered lanterns on the path towards lighting up their workspace.

And, eventually, the two have something.

It's clumsily put together, more amorphous than anything precisely shaped. And maybe if Yuri didn't spend so much time on it he'd laugh and toss it aside, but with the cool breeze in the air and ocean spray misting his fur, he can't bring himself to laugh. No, he likes it. He likes it a /lot/, even, and he takes care to grab the lantern in his mouth before he leaps back towards the wharf and clambers up the elder tree again. It's not an original spot to hang his lantern, but Yuri can't think of anywhere else appropriate. And, sure, it takes a while before he finds an empty branch amongst the mass of lantern and leaves, but it's worth it.

The spot Yuri plants his misshapen, orange and blue lantern is a long branch overlooking the ocean. Above, he can easily see the thick, swirling clouds as they dance across the move. Below, the crowds and the lanterns and the joy of the festival. And, of course, the rolling waves dashing off of rocks and wharfs and mangrove roots. It's perfect.

And, for once, he finds that this is all he needs from the Faire.