Music was like a sustenance that gave life, laughter, sadness and spread tales of all kinds throughout the world and the hearts of the people that listened as well as those who were the source of it. No matter what kind of world it seemed, life was relying on similar desires, and Ishka found that the songs of these people were largely based on love and hate and anger, lost souls all trying to reach out. It was sad, and the daughter of the Owabi tribe found herself wondering if Amlarie could hear the voices of these people as she could hear the voices of those from where Ishka had been born. The eternal Songstress had followers, usually chosen by the Goddess herself, to carry out the deeds required of them, to spread the music and the tales and the emotions! Ishka had met a male such as that, who had so much love inside of him and so little chance to truly bond with any long enough. And yet tales of death and pain and warnings, old battles and lost wars, none of it mattered here, in this world, it was all about the person, the pain one felt, the loneliness suffered in a crowd, and slowly the chosen Guardian found herself understanding why these people felt so alone.

It was cold outside, the weather was cooling and the rains were coming, the days were colder then when she first arrived, but thankfully warmer then the snow a few months back. Being blessed with the ability to take on any feline of her world, Ishka could at least manage to stay curled up in small places warm and safe. Though it didn’t take long to realize that the creatures she knew and loved were not part of this world, they had similar kinds, but nothing like what she knew. None of their creatures seemed to speak, even to their champions, not one, and they all seemed so common, basic, and plain... so oddly plain, defenceless too really. There had been a girl who had seemed more like what Ishka found familiar, young, much younger really, and blue, with a tail which ended as an arrows head and fangs just as Ishka’s own. Though unlike Ishka, the girl often walked with her fur and tail showing, whereas Ishka found should she do that no sooner then was she spotted would she be chased for it, or have certain people flee from her.

The first time they had met, it had been here, Ishka had followed the girl into here, for upo her the girl, Arisa her name had been, had carried the scent so long familiar of Ishka’s once deceased companion. The very reason the Guardian had come here, Massai had given his life for her and her people and there was no way she would let his spirit be stolen from the Heavenly realm and be dragged to this other world for reasons unjust. However, as months had past, the girl had not returned, as Ishka had hoped, and while she sat, the voices of the men on stage were more focused on then the words used. Some of them she didn’t understand, some just weren’t words her people either knew or just never used. They were sad, at least one was, the other was thrilled and anxious and nervous, and yet the other... definitely the words meant more to him then the younger looking human, and it wasn’t until he had finished, until one group got down and another readied themselves on stage, that Ishka actually turned her attention towards the previous musicians. One walked as any human youth would generally walk, there was nothing out of the ordinary that drew her attention, the other, however, had a seamless grace, steady and fluid, every movement with a purpose, no wasted energy as most humans and the like tend to exert. She had seen such motions before, on her world, yet things were so different, even with her curiosity Ishka couldn’t really be sure if it was her place to examine the possibility that that male was any less a human then his companion.. Then again, most undead of her realm hardly got up and started singing in front a crowd of people!

Why was this world so strange to her?

Quietly, the blonde turned her head towards where the other two of the group previously on stage had jointly sat, her emerald eyes a piecing forest hue, that even in her curiosity held a positive force in their depths. As the sole Guardian of Hope on her world, the young adventurer was hard pressed not to be optimistic, it was not only her fate but her nature, good things could happen just as often as bad things, and those wronged had every chance of being righted once more. All you needed was hope, and the faith to trust that hope no matter what as long as you believed in it firmly enough almost anything was possible. Go to them. The voice was soft, and motherly, and warm. Yet Ishka was certain the words had not been her own, the voice that echoed in her mind may have seemed as an illusion of her inner thoughts, yet such whispers had happened before, guidance from the beings who held power over the young Owabi’s world. The clothes worn were not ones she still felt comfortable in, they were so alien to her, and covered so much, and yet most women seemed to dress in the manner she had chosen and so with the cooler months Ishka had tried to collect more things to help her blend in. White sleeves that covered her slender arms that rested on the smooth dark wooden bar, a black fitted shirt hugged her body, the chest of which had five blue stars going across it. As always, Ishka wore a head band, helping to keep her hair from her face, only a few plaits still fell freely, two which framed her face usually, which Ishka preferred, this hair piece was a blue colour similar to that of the stars on her chest. Dark stone jeans covered her legs; the black sneakers the guardian had to wear to cover her bare feet were clearly visible. It was strange how people were turned away if not dressed properly.. it wasn’t like this was considered a sacred place, though perhaps it was unspoken in this world, that music places such as these were holy places to be dressed in certain attire and certain behaviours.

Go to them. The whisper came again, and while Ishka wondered why she was being insisted to go and speak with them, the young champion only gave it another brief hesitation before swinging her legs from the stool and slinking her way towards the table at the back. There was always one issue with this world.. .saying ‘The gods have sent me to speak with you’ just didn’t seem to work as well as it did in hers when trying to break the ‘ice’ of first meeting. With a warm smile, the young woman appeared beside the table of both Illidan and Allan. In this world, the Asian rarely were born with natural blond, and while it seemed to have darker taints through it, the hair was healthy and strong, unlike the kind often dyed, and the colours were natural, though with the striking green eyes, coloured hair and Asian-like appearance, it was difficult for those of this world not to assume she was either a mixed race or wore contacts and dyed her hair.

"I have not heard you sing here before... you sing very well, are you going to return here again?" If lame was a word she knew, then Ishka may have thought of it at that point, but what counted as a polite greeting for her, made people stare as if she were speaking in a language they found very difficult to understand, trying a new approach was gaining a little more victories.