Open Night Out

[Naiya]

As the burly man wandered off to get their drinks, Shahar adopted once more a focus on her hair. Rue couldn't help but to look at the spill of it over her shoulders in search of what had so captured his attention. Her search paired with the same hair that was in question kept her from noticing his movement until his fingers tucked around a lock of her hair. The feeling of it, stronger with his grasp seeking actual hair this time, danced across her senses.

Rue's hair was long, so it didn't so much pull against her as Shahar lifted it across the distance between them as it stretched gently across the space. The feeling of it was strange though, and without thinking of anything but relieving the sensation -the stretch and tickle across her jaw- she leaned across the ever shortening distance between them. Closing the distance until his captured lock of her hair was nearly immersed in the others that fell carelessly around her face.

His hand nearly brushed her cheek, and she half held her breath in anticipation of such a thing, until the barkeep returned with the ale she had requested.

The lock of hair dropped to join the rest, and she mirrored the disappointment she read in Shahar's body. Though he recovered himself far more quickly than Rue, she was not far behind him. However, she could not quite shake the lingering lines of wistfulness from her posture, even as intrigue lit her eyes and her hands.

Interest, desire to learn. She signed in response, disregarding her drink in the moment of excitement. Was a javelin anything like a short spear? She had no knowledge of the weapon, except a vague notion that it could have resembled a spear. A more pressing question occurred to her, Why offer? Why teach me?

It was maybe not the most polite thing to have asked, but she was a bit beyond the lines of good behavior anyway, she decided, another step beyond proper would not cause anymore trouble that the first.

[Colt]

Shahar pulled his new drink closer to him as he observed Rue’s response. Why teach her? What a strange thing to ask.

Why not? Shahar replied, as if he was genuinely surprised by such a question. The why hadn’t even occurred to him as a thing to ask until she had brought it up.

He took a moment to stick his tongue into his new drink. It was more bitter than the mead, although there was a sense of substance that the mead had lacked. It tasted more like… well, more like food than the mead. Perhaps that wasn’t the best way to describe it. It tasted more like something to be had alongside food. Though he wasn’t particularly hungry, Shahar took a sip anyway, finding that his interest in the actual quality of his drink had disappeared.

Desire to help, he reiterated. Enjoyment, company, you, can show ground, track, help hunt.

[Naiya]

Why not? Rue could think of a plethora of reasons, and in fact had been well informed on such reasons by her family. Why not continue her combat training, her archery, her hunting?

She turned her gaze to the lights dancing along the floor, seeing in the shifting of shadows the faces of her family, explaining all the reasons she should be learning cooking and practicing her sewing rather than doing the unladylike things she had spent so long learning.

She didn't voice any of the reasons, instead finding her drink, happy to wash the sticky sweet taste of the mead from her mouth with a swill of ale. The bitter was all the more shocking after the mead, but it was more refreshing as well, closer to water than the honeyed liquid of before. Another drink, and she delighted in the nutty warmth of flavor the brew offered.

She had, she recalled belatedly, been hoping for more of a response from Shahar. She turned her attention back to him, realizing that he was sort of thrown off by her her question, like it hadn't even occurred to him that she would ask such a thing.

She was pleased by his response, and since he was obviously a skilled hunter, apparent from the things he had brought to her shop, it was kind of him to offer to bring her. Especially since she would more likely than not ruin his chances of success.

She would need to practice with her bow. She had nearly lost that rabbit the other day because of a poor shot.

"I would like that." She told him, "I don't have much to offer you in return, unless you'd like to learn to sew?" She was amused by the thought of Shahar bent over a dress, learning to stitch the hem. Although she imagined it wasn't a bad thing to know how to patch the small holes that appeared in clothing over time.

She wondered briefly if he had a wife who could do such things for him, but discarded the thought as unnecessary. If he did, it hardly mattered, she was learning to cook, she could do that instead.

[Colt]

Shahar shrugged at her lack of things to offer in return. Alright, he said. Help on hunt, enough, all that is needed. Company, pleasant, enjoyment.

He didn’t often hunt with other people, but Shahar was smart enough to know that another hunter could greatly expand his ability. Of course, there was the added need for real tactics, but that wasn’t something Shahar was too concerned about––when it came to hunting, he knew his way around an animal’s thoughts well enough to get results.

Perhaps later, easier, he remarked thoughtfully. Hunting, increasing difficulty, getting drier. After rains come, better. More animals, more running and eating, easier finding and killing.

It was true that the rains had been a little late this year, but it was still early in the season and possible that they would come soon. The increasing dryness had driven most animals to lethargy and kept them from coming out of their dens unless in dire need. He could still find things, but with this lean a season he preferred the certainty of solitude to the possibility of larger prey taken down by a group.

[Naiya]

Rue nodded accepting the information he gave her as truth. She would take his experience over hers, especially considering how lacking hers was.

She would hunt with him for the enjoyment to be had in each other's company rather than with the intent to succeed in the hunt. She could learn how to hunt properly, rather than her current draw and fire at will strategy. Learn to track, to trap, and whatever else he desired to teach her.

He seemed not to care that she could offer him little in return, an oddity, but he seemed to have many of those. She lifted her tankard of ale, taking a few swallows of the liquid, finding that the burn of alcohol was nearly nonexistent after the stronger bite of the mead. It made it easy to forget that the alcohol would take a toll.

She turned her eyes up to Shahar, her eyes lingering on his face as a sort of hazy near drunkenness settled over her. His green eyes danced with highlights of yellow and a pale almost white gleam as the lanterns flickered around them. His cheekbones highlighted by the same flickers of light sloped smoothly towards lips that often took the shape of amusement. Set above the shape of his jaw, his lips looked far softer than she would have imagined. Maybe it was just because of the strong lines of his jaw, though they were softened by the subtle shadow of a beard that was both hard and soft against his features.

The texture of the shadow on his chin was intriguing and in the moment of muddled thinking, she reached out to feel for her self the texture of his chin. She drew her fingers along his jaw, a feather light touch that left her hand floating between them as she decided whether or not she could repeat the motion.

[Colt]

The ale Shahar had been given was certainly not bad, although as he got deeper into the tankard he found himself wishing it was the mead he'd had before. That mead was sweeter.

Shahar usually got a particular prickle on his neck when he was being stared at, although this time it was absent of any of the nervousness that usually accompanied such a feeling. He glanced up from his drink and looked around, then discovered to his surprise that the source of the sensation was Rue herself.

Shahar blinked his eyes to clear the haze that had fallen upon them, doing his best to remain focused on her. He’d never been drunk before, although in his drunken state it didn’t occur to him to be worried about the soft, crawling pace of his thoughts. He wasn’t particularly inclined to think right now, he just wanted to be. And Rue’s gaze was pleasant.

When she reached out, although it was slow, Shahar had no doubt that somewhere on his head was her hand’s destination. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to be alarmed, or even truly uncomfortable at the prospect; he had touched her head, so it wouldn’t be fair if she couldn’t touch his. Perhaps he even inclined his head towards her, although he himself was not fully aware that he was doing it.

Like so many before, her touch was electrifying in its gentleness. It began as the back of his jaw, then traveled down the stubble on his chin before vanishing altogether and hovering just above his skin. Quietly, almost inaudibly, a small whine appeared from the back of Shahar’s throat, accentuated by an unconscious disappointed yearning.

[Naiya]

Soft as her touch was, she found the feeling of his skin lingering on her fingers, teasing her senses into craving a repeat experience. Soft, she thought clearly, though if it was his skin or the stubble that registered so she didn't know. Warmth called to her, tickling her fingers where the hovered not quite touching him.

A soft sound broke its way through her thoughts, brought to her attention by the yearning in his posture, a whine of what could have been frustration or discontent. She might have missed it if she hadn't been so focused on him, might have thought it was cause by her touch, rather than its absence.

She trailed her fingers again across his jaw, her touch exploring rather than hesitant. Her thumb brushed the corner of his mouth, sliding along the hollow between his bottom lip and the cleft of his chin.

His skin was warm and smooth, textured by stubble that was soft to the touch but roughened his appearance. Her hand turned, following the trail of her thumb across his jaw once more until her hand rested warm against his cheek, fingers brushing the skin just behind his ear.

There was yearning reflected in her own body, though what for was not quite clear to her muddled mind. She traced the line of his cheekbone with her thumb, awed by the feeling that lanced through her as her eyes found their way to the dancing green that looked out towards her.

[Colt]

Perhaps she had heard him, perhaps she had seen the signs on his body, perhaps she had sensed his wanting through some other means; the how did not matter to Shahar when her fingers returned to his skin, ghosting back over his jaw, to the corner of his mouth and from there to the dip just above his chin. It sent jolts of sensation through his jaw that, in the absence of alarm, had become something he knew for certain that he did not want to stop.

His breath became quick and shallow and his eyes fluttered closed as she continued her exploration. When she came to a halt and lay her hand against his cheek, it was without thought that he shifted deeper into her palm. The phantom touch behind his ear set his blood roaring, and with his eyes closed, the only sensation he knew was Rue.

As his emotions took him over, so did his body reflect them, although there was no single clear sign to be found there. It was an indistinct muddle of intensity, desire, something that was distantly related to joy but heightened and hovering over the edge of euphoria. It was directed at Rue, at her hand, at himself, at the world in general––it was all of these things, and yet it was none of them. It was, at its heart, the confused conjunction of a man that had long since abandoned attempts to articulate; Shahar didn't need deep thoughts and internal debate to know that here and now was the only place that he could think of ever wanting to be.

[Naiya]

Rue's breath caught in her chest, contrasting the quick shallow breathing that overtook Shahar. The tickle of motion as he shifted, pressing into her hand his eyes closed with some flood of emotion, sent a spark of passion through her, filling her with heat to mirror the intensity in Shahar.

There was a peace in his face, more than contentment, and far beyond comfort, but outside of Rue's grasp. Desire, anticipation, elation surged through her, recognizing the overflowing of emotion that poured from Shahar as a mirror of her own emotion. There was peace in her as she took in Shahar, the wild mass of growing and changing feelings, attraction, desire. Hope and enthusiasm shaped her without her thought to give them form.

The feeling of before, of the first encounter between them, like peace and joy and the comfort of home all rolled into a single overpowering wave.

It was her, and him, and her touch - everything and nothing that brought forward the welling of emotion in him, shifting and changing with little thought to sense and she felt herself reflecting his signs. All thought of worry and propriety was abandoned in her nearly empty tankard, the liquid forgotten in the private moment.

They were isolated, alone in the quiet corner of the tavern. The barmaid, the serving girl, the other patrons, faded into oblivion, washed away by the silent exchange.

Her other hand moved, leaving the bar in favor of finding Shahar, her body tipping precariously on the bar stool that was suddenly too far away, bothersome, yet she found she couldn't quite manage to leave her seat. Steadiness came in the form of Shahar's shoulder, but too far away and not the right balance, so onward her hand moved, falling to the crook of his elbow instead. The innocent touch felt far from it, sending electrifying heat through her hand up her arm to settle in her chest, filling her with fervor.

She'd been holding her breath, and it released from her chest in a shaky sigh, the warmth of it filling the diminished distance between them, a gap that at once seemed too large and too small.

She searched his body, his face seeking the signs that told her she was not alone in the feeling and taking comfort from the confused jumble that greeted her. She wasn't imagining the feeling, the desire in his posture, but she still sought conformation in his eyes, silently willing them to open, to meet hers, to tell her she wasn't alone.

[Colt]

Through her hand on his cheek and the shifting of cloth Shahar could sense her movement, and because of it he allowed his eyes to remain closed in favor of remaining in this moment for as long as he was able. Her thumb traced his cheekbone and left fire in its wake, even as she changed her weight to reach for him.

It was the touch on his elbow that sent energy lancing up his arm and bid his eyes to open. Her fingers rested at the crook of the joint, not quite grasping but not quite doing anything else. They explored his skin there as they had his face, explored the sensation that linked them in a way that Shahar had yet to fathom. It was the hand that had stirred him, but it was Rue herself that drew his attention farther, up her arm, to her shoulder, to her face and finally to her eyes, piercing blue and unmistakable in the wanting that they held.

While the alcohol stopped him from truly thinking out his actions, his instinct was as sharp as ever; she wanted something, he knew, and in his haze he matched it to his own wanting––the desire to receive from him what he had received from her.

Shahar turned his arm over, the one upon which her hand rested, and brought it upwards to meet her own. His touch was gentle and unhurried, beginning just above her elbow and drawing fingertips over, down, farther and across the underside of her arm. He slowed and halted when he came to her wrist, hovering there for a moment before dancing over the skin of her palms. That was where he lingered, making explorations of his own in a silent response to Rue’s silent question. The fire that she had given to him lingered upon his skin where she had touched, and it limited his perception of the world around him––all he knew for certain was that he wanted to give the same feeling to Rue.