Weeja

Playlist

• People Imprisoned By Destiny - Chrono Cross
• On The Beach of Dreams - Chrono Cross
• The Approaching Night - Philip Wesley
• Into the Light - Philip Wesley
• Rain - Dax Johnson
• Song of Storms

Name: Weeja
Name meaning: I don't think it means anything, but it sounds wonderful!
Nicknames? none

Gender: female
Species and/or specific breed: saluki/windfairy mix, according to her reference sheet.
Age: 106
Birthday: December 12th

Personality: Having lived for so long in a cave on a cliff above the ocean, Weeja has gotten quite the reputation and is often the first person that comes to mind when people are wondering who to go for to get advice. She's gathered a lot of experience over her hundred-and-six years of life, and is always willing to help someone out with a problem, no matter when or why they come. She's had animals she didn't even know existed come to see her at noon or midnight or any time before or after. This doesn't bother her.
Weeja is a much better listener than a talker. Every day small talk can be very hard for her, because she doesn't always know what to say. But the friends she has love her anyway.
Yes, Weeja has friends! She may not have any as close as Scout (nor does she want to) but many of the inhabitants of the area near the ocean have come to know her over the years. Some of her favorite memories from recent times have been spent with her friends.
Although she enjoys the peace and quiet, sometimes she'll feel the need for something to happen. On those days, she'll hold beach parties, or astronomy nights to watch the stars. Almost everyone turns up for these things. However, she doesn't really notice how many people have heard of her and come to those events, and if she ever did she'd probably be quite shocked.
On many days, if there aren't a few clouds in the sky she just doesn't feel right. It took her a while to figure out that she could create storms, and if she had her way she'd make a permanent storm, but she knows everyone else wouldn't enjoy that. They're like Scout - give them the sun any day.
She sometimes feels quite sorry for herself and on those days might create just a small rain cloud. That always cheers her up. There's nothing quite like listening to the rain fall.
Weeja also has a collection. She couldn't tell you what of - whatever washes up on the shore she might gather. Seashells, feathers, glass bottles - all of them are potential collection items.
Finally, she can be very forgetful. There's been times where she's planned a sandcastle building contest for the beach's inhabitants and then totally spaced out and not done it after all, or times she's planned on going for a 'short walk' and ended up meandering around for three or four hours. Sometimes on those walks she thinks of moving one day, of making a storm and riding it across the ocean, but then she remembers why she chose to live where she does. She remembers the river that brought her so much joy as a child, and led her to meet and lose her best friend, and eventually brought her here.
And when she thinks of it that way, she decides that life may not be perfect, but it's quite good. And then she agrees that she's never going to leave.


History/Background: Time travel is a funny thing. Weeja once thought history meant the past. Now she realizes her mistake. Past, future - she's had experience with both, though she's long since stopped traveling. Back then life was all about rushing around and having fun. Now, she's retired in a way. Her home, atop the cliffs by the sea, is peaceful. And quiet. Different, but exactly what she enjoys these days.

Back a century or so, it had all been so much different. She'd ask a hundred questions about a thousand different things every day. "Why is the sky blue? Why not purple or neon green with polka dots?" she'd ask her mother as they wandered down to the stream. "How come I have wings and so many other people don't?" she'd question her father, trotting after him as he prepared to go out and hunt.
The home she lived in was kind and welcoming, if a bit small. Weeja and her parents dwelled in a hollow tree in a forest. Perhaps the humans had a name for that forest, but then she's never known all that much about the world of humans. Nearby the tree was a small stream, a brook that flowed merrily along. She visited it every day, to look for fish or colorful rocks or to play or just because. Most often she just invented excuses to go. The water felt like home. It felt like the best place in the entire universe, but she didn't know how or why. It was a feeling impossible to explain.

One of those days, Weeja came to the stream to find it was almost not there at all. Only a tiny bit of water was flowing slowly downstream. What had happened? While she sat there, staring at the dry riverbed and feeling very gloomy, there was a loud crashing sound on the other side and a rustling in the bushes. She was about ready to flee, to run back to her parents back at the hollow tree and hide until whatever danger had just appeared had gone away again, when a voice called - "Please, wait just a moment!" Out of the bushes came a very familiar dog. She was holding very tightly to a strange, device that had more buttons than Weeja thought she could count. Said device was emitting sparks, and looked very dangerous. The only reason she didn't run then and there was because she knew that fur, she knew those eyes and that voice!
Standing before her, rather shaken but definitely real, was herself! The other her was taller, and older, but it was definitely her. "What -" Weeja was about to ask, but she was stopped by her older self.
"It's okay." A faint smile was on her face, reassuring and genuine. "I'm real. I can promise you that. I time traveled to get here, to tell you something very important." Time travel? "I need you to do something." The future Weeja's smile fell. "It's not going to be easy. It's going to be the opposite of easy. But if you want to save the river, you have to do it."
Weeja of the present was a bit skeptical, and more confused than anything, as anyone would be if their future self came along. But the river... the place she loved most... it was in danger. "What am I supposed to do?"

Head up the river. Head up the river. Head up the river. That had been Weeja's internal encouragement for the past three days. However she was beginning to feel more and more tired, and worried. Were her parents okay? Were they even still there? Would the river ever be back to normal again? As she was padding sadly along, thinking about all this, there was that same loud noise from before and a moment later a dog with a white bandana and scruffy brown fur appeared from absolutely nowhere. He was carrying the same strange device that the older her had been.
"Hello? Are you here about the river, too?" the dog said. "Cause that's why I came. Heard about the river. Wanted to help out. I'm Scout, by the way, who are you?"

As it turned out, the two soon because great friends. While Weeja felt most at peace when near water, Scout admitted that he was the exact opposite. Give him the warm sun any day. He had just been worried about the forest as a whole - without any water, it surely wouldn't last for long.
On their way upriver, they passed by several human towns. They rarely stopped in any of them, except for one shop, late at night, when the day's hunting had yielded no results. It was there that Weeja found her droplet plushie, and immediately loved it. When they left to carry on walking, she took it with her.
A whole month went on like this (the stream was a very long one, farther than she had even thought rivers went) until at last they reached the beginning. The beginning of the river.
In this place, where the river began, humans were everywhere. Hustling and bustling around, doing strange things. There was only one human building here, but it was big. And impressive. And everyone seemed to be working on something important inside.

So Weeja and Scout snuck in that night to find out what the humans were doing that had made the water go away. Eventually they came across a well-guarded room. Inside, on its own so that it stood out, was a small pendant. It looked of hardly any matter to Scout, but as soon as Weeja saw it she knew that this was what had stopped the water from coming. It had fallen into the wrong hands.
"I can distract the humans if you go inside and take it," Scout offered, and though Weeja didn't want to put her friend in danger, she agreed there was probably no other way to go about it. So Scout handed over his strange time travel device and charged into the room, barking loudly. He jumped for the pendant, missed, then ran off. Quite a few humans followed, leaving the room mostly empty. It was easy to run in, take the pendant, and use that device to teleport away.

The river was flowing again the next day, but Scout was nowhere to be seen. Something must have happened to him, but it took her a whole year of living by the huge building to realize that there was no point in sticking around any longer.
She wanted nothing to do with time travel - not anymore. Her parents had said that downstream was the ocean. Perhaps she'd go there. But before she went, there was one very important thing to do.

With a crash, Weeja arrived to that day a year ago, when the river had run dry and everything had began. That device of Scout's was sparking left and right. She seriously hoped she didn't accidentally start a fire. The dog took a deep breath and stepped out from the bushes to talk to her younger self.

...

...Twenty years later, when Weeja had gotten used to this new lifestyle by the ocean, a storm was raging outside. It was wonderful, and the canine was enjoying listening to the rain pour from inside the safety of her cave. Suddenly, though, she heard a knock on the rock just outside. Probably just another visitor, she thought, and said, "Come in!"

"Thank goodness - it was horribly wet out there," whoever it was barked as they came inside. Weeja gasped as she realized who it was. She'd recognize that bandana and that voice from anywhere.

"...Scout?!"

favorites
day of the week; Tuesday
color; blue
sound; ocean waves, or rain
number; 10,000
season; autumn