The Dangers of the Talderan Wilderness [Velaa]

[Zanril]

16 Summer, 511 AV It was midday, and Zanril was trodding gingerly through the snow with his new companion. Zanril didn't mind the cool air. The trees had become more dense, so Zanril was becoming more worried about what lurked in these woods. Zanril had strung up his longbow after they left camp and was gripping it now, cautiously. He had been told by his companion about some kind of settlement this way. Zanril trusted her, but some doubt lingered in his mind about this place. He knew of a city southeast of Avanthal, but did she really know where it was? He looked over at her and smiled. It was nice to travel with someone, anyone. Last night, she said her name was Velaa. Was her name the same now, in her Konti form? Zanril hadn't thought to ask. It was so interesting to Zanril to know an Ethaefal, much less travel with one. Zanril was determined to help the poor girl on her journey as far as he could go. Thinking about her curse, Zanril pitied her. Robbed of a peaceful afterlife, watching her friends die, it seemed so hard. She seemed to bear it with a sort of quiet stoicism, but Zanril knew the pain was there. Anyway, the going had been easy and the weather was so lovely. Zanril desperately hoped nothing would spoil this day.

[Velaa]

Velaa followed Zanril along patiently, cutting a path through the snow with all the calm of someone who had done it before. Incandescent scales shimmered along her brow, the bridge of her nose and her hands. Her violet eyes were aglow with life. For the first time in many years, Velaa was walking with someone. Not just anyone either, but a real person that didn't seem to be tripping over his feet to placate her. He didn't gawk or gape like others had, and she liked that. As they walked, entering denser woods, the senses of the Konti form Velaa currently possessed heightened in wariness. She listened for the padding of large paws, the howling of great wolves, or the ever soft stepping of a Jamoura. She really hoped they'd meet a Jamoura before anything else in this region. A 'good' Jamoura, too, and not one of those howling, cursing ones. While her senses stayed attuned to the noises of the world, Velaa reflected. She'd been behind in her reflection, an art taught to her by the very Jamoura she wished to meet again. Her violet eyes dimmed slightly as her thoughts turned inwards. Her pale hand gripped her own weapon, a Tiger Hook blade, readily for any sign of attack. She'd decided to go wherever her new companion decided, whether to the Spires or even further on. Unless he grew weary of her. At that point, then what? Would she return to Denval to persist in life while everything else faded away, or Ivak returned and finished his bloody work? A sigh passed her lips, but she smiled at her companion when he looked back at her and hurried to catch up. It wasn't intelligent to lag in a group like this. Death could come swiftly, and while up here it could come in the jaws of a wolf or lion, further south in Taldera lived the Dhani, and their jaws were strong when they bit their prey. She caught up to Zanril and walked alongside him now, ever wary for an attack as she tried to guide him towards where she remembered the Spires to be.

[Zanril]

Zanril smiled and concentrated on his footing. The snow, though shallow through here, hid roots and stones that could easily trip an unwary traveller. He shivered and pulled his cloak tighter with one hand. The wind was picking up and had a bit of a sting to it. Zanril whispered a prayer to Morwen under his breath. He didn't want to deal with a snowstorm. The Vantha had been eying his companion's weapon for some time now. It was a strange kind of sword the likes of which he'd never before seen. Zanril wondered if she could use it. Thinking of such a beautiful woman in battle was a strange thought, but having a skilled blade by his side would be welcome. This was becoming a long journey and Zanril knew the longer they traveled, the more likely something unpleasant would happen. To say Zanril was prepared for the worst would be a great exaggeration. The worst out here was certain death by forces no man could dream of stopping. I am thinking we should stop and rest, Zanril said. Because I am getting a bit hungry, and maybe you are tired? Zanril pulled off his gear and rested his back against a tree to wait for his companion's reply. He grinned and faced her. Perhaps he'd a better chance at conversation with the intriguing and mysterious woman.