Closed Are We There Yet? (Aren, Isolde, Orin)

[Isolde Seibold]

Orin's reassurances --tinged dark with something that sounded faintly of pain, and then, later, hate-- did nothing to placate the worrying Nuit. In fact, if anything they increased her anxiety. Not only did she want Aren back with the group, but she was also concerned about Orin. She had been since the incident --attack?-- with his horse, but he'd said he was fine. But he wasn't. Not at all. He sounded like he was hurting, in more ways than one.

Crossing the river seemed to emphasize her thoughts. Both Sayana and Orin made it across behind her, though the panicked look in the Eypharian's eyes had almost prompted Isolde to go back in after her, just to make sure she kept walking. Once out of the water, however, Sayana seemed to bounce back, and began tasking out things for everyone to do, acting as a natural leader. Orin, though...

Isolde had already looped Gretta's reigns to a branch, and now did the same frantically with Sayana's horse --Cinnamon?-- when she saw that Orin had fallen, hearing him utter a short, pained cry. The Nuit rushed over to his side, asking, "Orin? Are you alright? What's wrong?" Obviously he wasn't alright. "Hold on a moment," she said, then grabbed Orin's horse's reigns just as she had Cinnamon's --his horse was called Marigold-- and trotted her over to the others, flipping her reigns over the same branch. She knew that none of the horses were properly tied and they would need tending to, as Sayana had suggested, but Orin was more important. She hurried back to him.

"I'm going to take your hand, okay, and try to pull you up to your feet. You can loop your arm around my shoulders if you need to." His legs seemed weak and wobbly, probably a result of the riding, especially the fast gallop that he'd been unprepared for. Her own legs felt adversely stiff in the hips, loose and painful in the knees, and altogether bruised, but she thought she'd be strong enough for him to lean upon as she took him... where? Where would be a good place for him to sit down? Somewhere not too far, but back enough from the water's edge and the mud...

Okay, there. A rock, nearby. Large enough to sit comfortably on, not too far a walk away, and rounded from the weather so it would be smooth and wouldn't poke into Orin's legs and worsen his pain. If he was agreeable and had gotten back to his feet, Isolde would do her best to carefully escort him to the rock and sit him down.

"Don't worry about Marigold, I'll take care of her," she would pant out once he was seated. "Um, I don't really know what's wrong exactly. The bruises, from before? Or something else?" Her worried gaze flitted from him to the horses and back. If it was the bruises, or maybe some strained muscles, she didn't really know what she could do for him. "Just... just rest for now, okay? Maybe try to stretch your legs and see if that helps. And if you have any problems or the pain worsens or anything, just call. I'll be right back. But for now I need to make sure the horses are tied properly so they don't wander away." Unless Orin protested, the Nuit would turn and jog back to the small group of animals tied to their one, tired branch.

Halfway there, however, there came a cry from the woods, "Sayana!"; Isolde nearly leapt out of her boots, and then stood frozen, head pointed in that direction. The shout had sounded like Aren.

With a look back at Orin, Isolde set her jaw --mostly to keep it from trembling-- and put her hand once again on her dagger. "Sayana? Aren?" she called, in a measured tone that sounded less frightened than she really was. Her mind was racing. She had not been a squire long now, but... but if something had happened to either of them, then it was her responsibility to get Orin out of danger and then go in after them both. The Nuit finished crossing to the horses, and noted that they seemed mostly unconcerned. Was that a good sign? Surely if there was danger, they would hear it? Unless it was something that could not be easily heard. Some kind of monster? A ghost?

Quickly as she could with her shaking fingers, Isolde separated Marigold's reigns back from the others', then turned back to Orin. As calmly as she could muster, she said, "If we don't hear anything from them in another moment or two, I'm going to give you your horse and then I'm going to look and see if they're okay. Will you be able to climb into the saddle again, or no? If not, I'll help you up. Then I'll go in. If you hear anything that sounds bad, I want you to ride away." She paused, then faced the woods again and called, more loudly this time, "Sayana? Aren? Everything alright?"

Isolde felt scared almost to sickness. All of her muscles were tense; her legs burned with it after the long day of riding. Compounding the fear was her previous feeling of dread, which had risen up in full force, prickling her skin.

At the same time, she felt a weird core of serenity that she could not recall having experienced before. It almost reminded her of the white fog that would threaten her consciousness, threaten her very identity when she was feeling particularly dispirited... only this was different somehow. The same, but... this feeling of peace was the opposite in that it was what kept her moving, what kept her voice steady. Without thinking about it, she'd drawn the dagger slightly out of its hilt.

[Orin Fenix]

When the haze of pain cleared from his head Orin realized he must have missed part of the conversation. He hadn't blacked out, just lost track of time for a few moments there. Then Orin looked on incredulously as Sayana hurried off into the woods, axe in hand. Orin didn't actually want to be fawned over and he certainly didn't want his companions to be concerned about his physical state. Still, it stung to be ignored so completely by Sayana. Orin was then immediately ashamed of his reaction. There was obviously something wrong between Sayana and Aren. The direction she had hurried off in had been the last area they'd seen Aren in. And that was probably no coincidence. She'd likely gone looking for him, although the axe was a bit puzzling. Orin might still hate Aren with a burning passion. But for whatever reason he seemed to make Sayana happy, complete even. There was no doubt that they were well matched in some fundamental way that Orin simply couldn't comprehend. It upset Orin more than he could say that he had messed matters up between the two of them, either inadvertently or maybe even on purpose. After all, Orin had more than enough reasons to try and ruin Aren's life. The only problem was that if that had been the case, Orin hadn't intended to harm Sayana as well. Orin felt the anger towards Aren abate just slightly. Orin could still fix his relationship with the Akalak even if it was only for Sayana's sake.

Orin ran through his memories of the last few chimes. He'd seen Isolde watching the river, and presumably Sayana with a great deal of concern although Orin had been too focused on his own crossing to pay all that much attention to it. Next had been Orin's collapse which is where it got a little hazy. However by focusing Orin remembered that Sayana had been giving orders. Isolde it seemed, was going to take care of the horses. Sayana had gone in search of firewood. Suddenly, the axe made a whole lot more sense. She'd presumably use it to chop down branches or chop up fallen logs. Orin didn't really know anything about gathering firewood but those assumptions seemed reasonable enough. And Orin was supposed to dig a firepit. And he was supposed to do it upwind, whatever that meant. Orin was suddenly riddled with doubts. He certainly had next to no experience with camping. Sayana seemed to know more than Orin did, so he'd follow her lead unless there seemed to be something completely wrong. However, Orin didn't really know how one went about constructing a firepit. It was a pit and Orin was supposed to put fire in it. And that's where Orin's ideas ran out. However Orin refused to let himself be stumped now. They didn't want anything flammable near the fire. That would probably be a disaster. So Orin should clear some ground. He had vague thoughts that there was supposed to be a ring of stones around the pit from bonfires back in Mithryn. That would go along with the idea that they wanted to prevent a wildfire. Orin scanned the riverbank but couldn't see much from his position. He'd need to stand up to get a better look and he didn't feel quite up to that yet.

At this point Orin realized that while he'd been wrapped up in his own head, Isolde had begun to hover. With a twinge of guilt Orin switched his attention to her. "I'm sorry I must've have zoned out for a bit there." Orin's voice came out as a croak. Shocked, Orin realized that Marigold wasn't the only one who hadn't been eating or drinking today. The pain had masked it but Orin was ravenous and probably dehydrated as well. At this point Orin realized that Isolde must have taken Marigold's reins from him without him even noticing. That was fine by Orin. If meant he had less work to do. Still Marigold was his responsibility and apparently Orin was doing a pretty terrible job of taking care of her. "I hate to ask this of you but could you make sure Marigold gets something to eat and drink? I think that I've been mistreating her all day, poor thing." And if Isolde went off to do that it would give Orin an opportunity to make an assessment as to the state of his legs.

The pain was fading from when Orin had tried to put weight on it. Orin still didn't know if his legs would carry him at this time. But they definitely weren't as bad off as they could be. Orin didn't think walking would be easy and he might need help but it would hopefully be possibleHowever hanging on to Isolde for support was not something Orin was sure his pride could handle. Besides, if there was a threat out there Orin didn't want his handicap to slow Isolde down. Taking down two people would halve their fighting force if it came to that. At least those were the justifications Orin was coming up with to refuse Isolde's help. Still, Orin would need to be able to move in some fashion. Otherwise Aren would probably have to carry Orin, which was equally unacceptable.

Following Isolde's gaze, Orin saw the rock. The distance wasn't really that far, as long as Orin could actually get there. He absentmindedly responded to Isolde's questions about his legs, most of his mind still searching for a reasonable solution to his dilemma. "I don't know what's wrong, exactly. Nothing feels broken. I just know it's something from the riding. Don't think I'm medically skilled enough to diagnose myself, though. So your guess is as good as mind." Orin let his gaze wander, as if that would help him work his way around the problem. His eyes finally rested on the trees and something in Orin's brain lit up, although it took Orim some time to figure out what it was trying to tell him.

Finally though, Orin figured it out. He could use a walking stick to take most of the pressure off his battered limbs. If Orin couldn't walk with that aid, then he wasn't walking at all and they'd have to figure out something else. But Orin was confident that he'd be able to handle that much. Besides, Orin could use the stick to extend his reach and start working on clearing some of the ground. He was about to explain his plan to Isolde when Aren's shout rang out. Isolde was already on her way to the horses and she seemed as startled as Orin did. She immediately launched into what she thought they should do. Orin waited patiently for her to finish. His mind had kicked into action and he was about to offer another option that he felt might be a little more reasonable.

Orin was pleased to see her fingering her dagger, since it meant they were on the same page. "Here's what we're going to do." Orin's voice was filled with calm authority that he didn't necessarily feel. But if he panicked it would just set Isolde off to. "Settle the horses. I'm not capable of riding at this point anyway and I'm most certainly not abandoning you even if I could." Orin wasn't going to negotiate on this particular point. His tone brooked no disagreement. "I'm sure it's nothing, just Aren overreacting, but what I want you to do is get me a nice stout branch to use as walking stick. With that I'm pretty sure I can make it to that boulder." Orin pointed to make sure Isolde and he were thinking of the same rock. Next Orin patted his throwing daggers. "After that if Sayana and Aren aren't back, you go check on them. I can hopefully slow something down with my blades and I'll raise a racket if anything does show so don't worry about me." Orin didn't know if he was good enough with his throwing knives to actually do anything with them but he'd go down fighting if he had to. And though he didn't like the idea of splitting up, they were running out of options. If something was out there picking them off sending Isolde after it was probably the worst decision they could make but Orin wouldn't leave Sayana and Aren in danger if he could do anything about it. He'd probably be the safest one, since there was no cover for something to sneak up on Orin. However, there was one more precaution Orin thought they could make, even if it scared him to ask. "Maybe," and Orin swallowed before continuing, "maybe you should prepare some of your magic." Orin didn't know Isolde's exact capabilities but as a mage squire she presumably had both some offensive and defensive spells. Orin wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he wouldn't turn down any advantage in a fight.

[Sayana]

It hurt her pride to think that she may be in the wrong in this one but the idea of losing Aren over something as small as that. Then suddenly there was the distant snapping and cracking of branches as well as pounding feet. She tensed and brought a hand to her main dagger not sure if it was indeed her lover returning or something else more menacing in the trees. She looked up and saw that the sun was beginning to set. They really ought to get the camp set up before it got dark. Soon her own doubts were lifted somewhat as Aren cried out her name in panic and worry. Was there something else out there? When he came into view, he looked panicked and confused. He dropped to his knees and she let the log fall to the ground with a thud. “Aren, Aren, are you alright? Is something…?” But the relief in his own eyes confirmed that it had been nothing he had seen and that he was glad to see she was alright. Sayana surged forwards wanting to do anything, everything, to make it better. When she rushed to embrace him, he felt weak and exhausted. Even on his knees they were about equal in height. She felt him tipping forwards and she braced herself to catch his weight. “Aren, I’m so sorry,” she spoke as she cradled his head with her high arms while supporting him with her mids and lows. She felt her eyes welling up and she simply hid them by planting numerous kisses on his face and neck. “I love you, please don’t be mad at me. Please don’t stay mad.” She wasn’t sure how much he was hearing her. He seemed half slumped against her and she recalled the time he had showed up at her door in an even worse condition. She kissed him tenderly on the lips but it was broken by a call. "Sayana? Aren? Everything alright?" She had missed the first call, being too preoccupied by Aren’s appearance and trying to grasp at anything to fix things between the two of them. This time, however, she heard Isolde’s worried tone. “It’s fine. Everything’s okay.” Sayana called back. “I found Aren. He’s just… I think it was a lot of work keeping up with the horses. Give us a bit.” She stroked his hair tenderly and for a moment her eyes scanned the woods for danger. The sun was beginning to set and they should really get started on the camp. “Aren, it’s time to get up and get back to the others. I can help you walk but you’re going to have to stand.” The Eypharian grasped her lover by the elbows with her mid hands and used as much strength as she could muster to push upwards upon him. Half expecting him to tip or otherwise stumble she had her high hands placed gently on his shoulders. The log she had chopped lay abandoned along with her axe as all her focus was on getting Aren back to the others.

[Aren]

The Akalak's exhaustion had been slowly building up as the day carried on, but the mad dash to come to Sayana's aid had temporarily pushed his body past its limits. Once he had realized that his lover and the child she carried were in no danger, however, whatever force had been keeping him standing seemed to vanish and every ounce of strength seeped out of him. It was almost as if the warrior's own sense of relief had served to drain him of energy, but the simple truth was that he no longer had a reason to consciously fight past the mounting fatigue. As his upper body came crashing down towards the earth, the giant closed his eyes in anticipation of the impending impact. The hit never came though, and instead he felt the soft embrace of Sayana's delicate hands as they prevented him from falling. "I am mad..." The Akalak barely managed to say, though he smiled in complete contrast to the apparent meaning of the words coming out of his mouth, "Very mad." Aren's breathing was still labored, and his lungs yet struggled to provide the oxygen his massive body needed to function properly, but every instant that passed brought him a little closer to functionality. Until then, he allowed himself this time to rest his weary frame for as long as he was would be permitted, which he knew would not be long. The touch of Sayana's lips did much to help revive him, but it would a slow process. He would likely be able to stand momentarily, and walk soon thereafter, but anything more would require substantially longer. The Akalak had heard the Nuit's call, but of course he barely had the strength to communicate with someone half an inch away from his face, let alone reply to a person on the other side of the forest. Isolde's voice did make him realize, however, that he needed to find the will to come to his feet. "Yes. I know." Aren's golden eyes refocused on his Eypharian lover's face as he spoke, almost like the warrior drew strength from the sight. He appreciated the help she gave him in erecting himself as he did his best to convince his own legs to raise him up, but the Akalak was all too aware of just how much bigger and how much more he weighed; if he could not do his part to maintain his weary body upright, Sayana alone would not be able to do it. Finally standing, if on somewhat shaky knees, Aren began to feel some semblance of vitality returning to his body. His mind quickly clearing of the dazed, somewhat cloudy sensation that his unnecessary rescue attempt had provoked, the mercenary looked up to see the quickly setting sun begin to pierce the top of the treeline."We'd better hurry. I won't be any use like this, and Eypharian's can't see in the dark, can they?" The Akalak queried, though he was fairly certain he already knew the answer. As they walked he could feel himself putting more weight on Sayana than he felt comfortable with, and the truth was that if anything happened the giant wouldn't simply be of no use, but rather actively hinder her chances for survival. Fearing how she might react if faced with a situation where she might be forced to choose between saving herself and making some futile attempt to save him, Aren was eager to make it back to the relative safety of the group. Fortunately, he knew they couldn't have been too far from help -if Isolde could be called that- and the chances of any threat appearing before she could reach them was minimal.

[Isolde Seibold]

“It’s fine. Everything’s okay. I found Aren. He’s just… I think it was a lot of work keeping up with the horses. Give us a bit.”

Isolde's breath whooshed out, and the dagger slid back into its sheath, cool fingers loosening around it. Inside her chest, the center of hard calm began to dissolve. She still felt shaky, but she thought that was probably with relief. "I guess everything's fine. You were right," the Nuit said to Orin, smiling at him slightly, though she had to admit she had been bothered slightly by his rebuttal, the counter-plan he'd given. Her idea had been getting her friend out of harm's way, especially since in his condition fighting was sort of... out of the question. His plan, however, had been different to say the least. Sort of self-sacrificial, something she didn't like. The last thing she wanted would be for Orin to get hurt.

But it didn't matter now, she reminded herself as she crossed to the closest thicket of trees. Since Sayana and Aren were safe and it was all some sort of misunderstanding. Still, she would be paying attention to how long it took them to get back to camp. The Nuit squinted up at the sky, the horizon stained a brilliant red that was already heading towards purple. If they didn't get back within five or ten chimes, she would have to go find them. At least her feeling of dread before had diminished with the false alarm; her panic had been for nothing all along. Things were okay.

Quickly, Isolde searched the ground between the trees for an appropriate walking stick for Orin to use. Most of the fallen branches were too small, mere twigs that she might snap between her fingers, or larger ones thinner than her thumb that she could break nearly as easily. Regardless, she scooped some of those up as she went along, thinking they would be good for the fire, remembering tossing similar small sticks into the bonfires of her childhood.

After perhaps a few chimes of looking, Isolde found a branch she thought could be put to use. It was long, taller than she was, and about as thick around as three fingers put together. When she grabbed it up from the ground and put her own weight on it, it seemed sturdy enough, the wood dry and dead but not brittle. As she headed back towards Orin she broke off some of the side branches that decorated its length, adding them to the fire kindling that she'd picked up before.

"Here you go," the Nuit said when she reemerged from the small copse. She handed the stick to Orin, and dumped the others she'd gathered in a small pile on the ground. "If you need anything, like I said, I'm right here." Isolde looked back up at the sky, using it as an indication of time. She wasn't certain what bell it was, but it was getting pretty late. They'd still need to make the fire, set up the tent, make food... and Isolde, of course, needed to tend to the horses. She immediately set off in their direction.

Since Marigold was already untied from the others, Isolde walked her to the river, let her drink --she seemed very thirsty-- and then walked her back. Then she paused, looking around. She needed a good place to tie up the horses, not just to this random branch. Eventually she lead Marigold --who seemed to pull back on the reigns more than Gretta did-- across the camp clearing to the edge of the forest, near the trees where she'd found Orin's stick. The trees here were tall and straight and thin, the ground was dry and flat and there was tall grass for grazing, and so she figured it was as good a place as any to tie a horse.

Oh wait. Tie. Duh.

Yeah, she'd forgotten the rope. Shaking her head, she let go of Marigold's reigns and took a few cautious steps back. The horse stayed still in place, so Isolde crossed back, grabbed Gretta --who snorted and tossed her head-- got her watered at the river's edge, and then brought her over to Marigold.

The rope that she'd bought was in two long pieces, coiled in Gretta's saddlebags, and so the Nuit got one of the pieces out and then cut it into lengths. There was supposed to be 100 feet of rope in total, which meant the piece she had now was about 50 ft... she figured probably like around 15 ft was good for each horse...? If she remembered math right, that meant that each horse would have about a third of the length of the 50-ft piece. So the Nuit began folding the rope into thirds, laid it out on the ground, and then sawed through the folds with her dagger so that the rope came apart in three long sections. With each section, she made a loop at the end, large enough to slip over a horse's head.

Marigold allowed her to get near, and didn't seem much to care that she was a Nuit, though her large dark eyes kept watch and her ears stayed pointed directly at Isolde. Still, the well-trained horse held still when the loop of rope went over her neck. Isolde made sure that it was loose enough so it wouldn't choke her, and then tied the free end around the middle of the nearest tree, pulling tight. She didn't know much about knots, so she hoped it would hold. Maybe someone else could check them, make sure they were okay.

Once Marigold was settled, Isolde went through the same process with Gretta --who pulled slightly back but eventually let the rope go over her head-- and then crossed back for Cinnamon. Once again, she let the horse drink her fill from the river, then led her back to the others. Cinnamon seemed as well-trained as Marigold, though she was more uncertain of letting the Nuit near her. It took a few chimes, but Isolde finally got the last rope over her head, and tied her onto her own tree, just like the others. Isolde hoped their placement was okay. The horses seemed to like to be near each other, but she had been worried that if they were too close they wouldn't have enough room or grazing. So she'd tied them so that they could get within a few feet of one another, but not any closer than that. Each horse had about a 12 foot length of rope they could walk around on.

With that done, the Nuit turned to check on the others' progress. She looked to see how Orin was doing and if he looked like he needed anything, and to see if Sayana and Aren were back. If everything was in place, she would turn back to her own task.

She'd had a lesson before with Lady Freed about horse care, and now she brought that to mind. She thought... the horses would need their saddles and saddlebags off, and it wouldn't hurt to take their bridles off either. And then there was the other stuff. She knew a bit about brushing and cleaning horses, but she didn't have much hands-on experience. And then there was also feeding.

Horses were a lot of work. She set back to it as Syna slowly fell.

[Orin Fenix]

When Sayana's voice filtered through the woods Orin felt a distinct sense of relief steal over him. While Orin had been prepared for the worst it certainly was nice not to have to worry about his friend's safety, at least for a moment. It would be dark soon enough if the vibrant colors the sky was turning were any indication. Orin shot Isolde a smile that was as bright as his earlier mood had been dark. His voice was soft but slightly smug in a friendly way. "Told you so. Now let's see if we can't get everyone back together and before something else comes up." Orin had been going for humor but he'd settle for lighthearted. Now that even the possibility of danger was past the adrenaline was fading from Orin and leaving him free to think of other subjects.

Of course, what replaced the stress and fear wasn't anything better. It was pain and bone-deep exhaustion. Orin would never let anyone try and tell him riding was easy ever again. After just one day of it Orin was ready to pass out. And that wasn't even including the mental strain that Orin had been under. Not only had people Orin cared about showed they had severe doubts about his intelligence and judgement, Orin had been forced to choose sides when all he'd been hoping for was for his friends to get along. And then there had been Aren's complete and utter refusal to let bygones be bygones and simply talk to Orin. Hate wasn't something that came naturally or easily to Orin. So it was draining Orin's energy as fast and as completely as any of the more tangible hurts Orin was suffering from. Maybe even more so. Regardless, the combined weight of the day's events was wearing on Orin. At this point, curling up in a ball and just shutting out the world seemed to be the most appealing option.

But his friends needed him for a little while longer. Orin wouldn't let his share of the camp chores go undone even if they were daunting in his current state. Building a fire was something Orin had done countless times in both the hearth and the stove and oven that he cooked with. So the only difference here was that Orin didn't have any coals to go off of and the need to clear ground to make it safe. But the idea of lighting kindling then adding smaller twigs until the logs caught was presumably the same. Orin needed some wood to begin his work on the fire though and he wasn't any shape to collect it himself. Of course that was supposedly what Sayana had just gone to do. Orin wouldn't be surprised if she forgot all about it considering how bothered Aren had been when he'd ran ahead.

Isolde disappeared into the woods as well and Orin felt a twinge of unease touch him even now. Being incapacitated and having all three of his companions out of sight while in the middle of the woods was enough to make anyone, even the most seasoned warrior, paranoid. And Orin was far from that. Still before the mental pressure could get too bad and make Orin react in a way he'd regret later, Isolde reappeared carrying twigs and a stick taller than she was that she broke pieces off even as she came closer. She brought it over and handed it to him. Orin took it firmly in hand as Isolde piled sticks together. Presumably those were supposed to be the foundations of Orin's fire. Orin was incredibly grateful to Isolde for starting him off with those.. He had no idea when Sayana would be returning with the firewood that she had promised.

Taking his stick in his hand, Orin planted one end in the ground in front of him. Leaning all the weight he dared Orin pulled himself to his feet. He wobbled for an instant but with the help of the walking stick Orin was able to stay upright. Actually it was more accurate to call it a staff. Now that Orin was at least standing on his own two feet, however weakly, he felt a lot better about this whole scenario. Orin didn't much like asking for help. Even when he so obviously needed it, such as now. Orin limped forward inching ever closer to the rock. Each step was agony but at the very least Orin was moving under his own power. Finally, his hobbling let Orin reach his goal. He collapsed to the ground it what was more of a controlled fall than anything else. Thankfully, the stick was long enough for Orin to pull the pile of sticks Isolde had started closer to Orin's new position.

Orin watched as Isolde led Marigold to the river. The pony took large gulps of water that eased Orin's guilt over his mistreatment of her. She was his trusty steed and he hadn't exactly been a knight in shining armor towards her. Still, now that the thought was at the forefront of his mind Orin would make a conscious effort to take better care of his mount. Still she seemed to be in good hands with Isolde so Orin turned his attention to his own specific duty. Spotting a relatively clear patch of ground nearby, Orin poked and prodded at a few random pieces of debris with his stick. Finally it was as bare as Orin could make it from his rock. Groaning reluctantly, Orin swiped his kindling and staggered to his feet. He took the few requisite steps before lowering himself to the ground. Orin rearranged the kindling to make the base of what he hoped with a suitable fire. At that point Orin realized he couldn't do anything more without his pack or without the logs Sayana was presumably bringing back. Looking at the distance between himself and Marigold quelled any thought of retrieving his pack himself. Giving up being self-sufficient at this point as a lost cause Orin called out to Isolde. "Isolde would you mind terribly getting my bag for me?"

[Sayana]

Sayana’s heart clenched at Aren’s words but when she looked at him she saw that he was smiling and the second time he stated he was mad she could hear the softer tone to his voice. She didn’t believe it was all fixed but she was not as afraid that it was all coming apart. When at last he seemed to have enough strength to stand, she walked backwards while gripping him while he walked forwards. It was tricky coordinating their feet but for the most part, she stepped back with the same foot that he stepped forwards on, and every so often she looked behind her to see where the trail was going. He seemed to be doing better and she moved to his side but still felt him leaning a lot of weight on her. Only now did Sayana start to notice her legs getting cold from the soaked pants she wore. Previously she had been so concerned about Aren that she had missed the chill and the steady dripping from the cloth. She gave a shiver and wrapped a couple arms around the warm Akalak. At last they arrived at the impromptu campground and she saw Orin starting to clear a fire pit while Isolde was tending to the horses. Thank Syna for her. The nuit seemed quite resourceful. Once she was sure that Aren wasn’t going to topple over from exhaustion, she left his side to rummage through the large rucksack for her clothes. “Don’t mind me. If you’re easily embarrassed, just look away.” Sayana said in simple warning. She quickly stripped out of the wet clothes and put on the dry ones. She hung the wet garments on a low hanging branch. There wasn’t much to be done with her boots and she ended up choosing to go without them. “Right, fire,” she muttered to herself when it seemed that Orin had mostly prepared the fire pit. “I’ll be back quick as a Dhani,” the Eypharian said as she skipped over to Aren and gave him a kiss before dashing off to where she had left her axe. She was glad her path had been rather straight. With the sun setting she didn’t want to be roaming all over in the dark and possibly getting lost. It didn’t take her long to find the axe and chopped log. After the long day of riding, her hips were protesting against short run to get the axe, but caution and a hint of fear made it so she returned just as quickly. No need to look all that far for wood when there were trees all around. “Here Orin, this should keep the fire steady,” Sayana said as she put the small log down into the clear space he had prepared. “I’ll gather up some more.” The Eypharian made short work of clearing the immediate vicinity of sticks and small branches. She broke the sticks into manageable pieces as she went and it helped that she had several hands to carry them all. Mostly she assumed Orin would be building the fire and finally it seemed like there was enough to burn as well as a second small log she chopped up. “Aren? Would you… mind starting the fire?” Sayana asked a little hesitantly. She knew Aren could summon fire but she wasn’t sure if he wanted to help Orin in any way, shape, or form. “I’m not very good with flint and steel and to be honest I wasn’t really paying attention to how it was done. Please Aren?” The Eypharian then beckoned Aren to a relatively clear space. “And do you have enough strength to help me with the tent? It’ll really help to have someone tall.” Mostly she didn’t want Aren to have an excuse to be alone with Orin, but his height was certainly an asset. Sayana started unrolling the tent and pulling out wooden poles. She had only seen the tent set up once and she slowly began going through the steps. She also got out her length of rope so that if necessary they could tie parts of it to nearby trees to better secure it. The tarp would go up last to cover the tent and protect it from rain. After everything was in place, she could then put down the four sets of bedrolls and blankets as necessary inside.

[Aren]

Finally, the two reunited with the rest of the group, and Aren slowly came to a sitting position near the makeshift fire pit that they had begun to construct. His feet were killing him, as were his thighs, and he just felt all-around tired, but at least Sayana was safe. That earlier scare was still with him, however, and the Akalak couldn't help but glance at his lover with every other breath, almost as if he had to make sure she was still there. Having a similar notion of modesty as Sayana herself, Aren didn't blink twice when she began to remove her clothes in front of the entire party. They were wet, it made perfect sense for her change them, didn't it? When she mentioned that she was going back into the woods on her own, though, the giant was certainly not pleased. "Saya-" Before he could mount much of an objection, however, she had given him a peck on the lips and darted off. Grumbling, the Akalak tried rise and follow after her, but he had so little energy left that he knew that even should he manage the feat, he would just end up slowing her efforts. Settling back down with a grimace, Aren resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't be much help to anyone for a little while. His strength was slowly creeping back, and he knew, from experience, that the only thing that would make it come back any faster was to sit still and rest. As he sat, the giant could make out Isolde dealing with the trio's horses, but it was Orin that he was concerned about. The man sat opposite him, across the pile of twigs and sticks and rocks, and it was obvious he wasn't exactly at his best. Aren honestly regretted the part he had played in that affair, but he had been fairly confident that the cook would be able to handle his runaway horse well enough. And, if he didn't, Isolde and Sayana were nearby to help, as they had. He was much more ashamed of the unkind -and wholly undeserved- words he had last said to him. In retrospect, Aren soon realized that his anger towards Sayana and his desire to protect his family had caused him to lash out at the easiest, most convenient target available, which in turn validated every single insult that Orin had flung his way. The Akalak had behaved like, well, a brute, and he had no idea how he was going to go about undoing what his foolishness had prompted. Ultimately, it didn't much bother Aren that the young man was angry at him, but rather that he had good reason to be. "Orin, I-" The warrior wanted to apologize, though he didn't really care if he was forgiven or not. He wanted to do it for himself, because he knew he had been in the wrong, and a person should be able to admit that, if nothing else. Sayana's untimely arrival forced him to stop, though, as he believed that this was a conversation that they shouldn't have in front of the others. He wanted them both to be able to talk freely, without concerning themselves about what one's lover or the other's friend would say or think or do. The Eypharian's request would be a simple task, under most circumstances, but using magic in the state that Aren was in was a risky proposition, to say the least. Every member of their entourage knew that he was a mage, thanks to Orin's outburst at the onset of the trip, but the real issue here was that he was so drained that extracting any amount of Res could lead to overgiving, at this point. The Akalak felt like he might be able to manage a spark, though; his Reimancy had come a long way in the last few years, so what kind of progress would he truly have made if he couldn't even do that? The Akalak sat with a single arm propping up his torso while he rested the other on the knee of his arched leg. After taking a deep breath, one of the fingers on the resting hand began to point lazily towards the collection of firewood that Sayana had amassed in front of him. A moment or two later, the shapeless, ethereal ooze so distinctive to Reimancy began to appear and coalesce in front of the first digit. As it floated there, tying to form itself into a coherent shape, it was obvious from the strain on the Reimancer's face that this was not so easy a feat as it may have looked. Eventually, however, the substance formed into a tiny ball which then began to slowly, and erratically, float towards its intended destination. Gently landing atop the pile, almost instanty there was a small flash which coincided with the Akalak's upper body swiftly falling back towards the dirt. As Aren lay there, looking up at the red sky, it was clear from his breathing that this had not been an exceedingly good idea. Despite this, he also wanted to fulfill the second of Sayana's requests, "Y-yah." He panted, "I'll be... right there. Just give me a chime." Although, if he was being honest, he wasn't entirely sure if this was a realistic desire, "...maybe two." OOCI hope I got our general positions more, or less, right. Normally I'm fairly certain of where everybody is in relation to Aren, but I feel like I got turned around in this one.

[Isolde Seibold]

"Isolde would you mind terribly getting my bag for me?"

"Nope, not at all. Um..." The Nuit trailed off as she stepped towards Marigold. Pack, pack. Um... here? Except Orin didn't seem to have any saddlebags, just the bedrolls that Sayana had tied to the back of Marigold's saddle earlier. Maybe in... Sayana's saddlebags...? No, that wasn't right. That had been the food.

After a moment of searching, the Nuit turned and spotted the pack lying on the ground where Orin had fallen before. He must've dropped it when he dismounted. She went to fetch it, then gave it to Orin with a smile. He seemed to be in a better mood, which was excellent, though she was still worried that he might be injured in some unexpected way or at the very least in more pain than he was letting on. Hopefully his body was just tired, and food and warmth and rest would fix him right up. Hopefully.

She had crossed back to the horses when Sayana and Aren came limping from the woods, and the Nuit's eyes tracked them carefully, but it didn't seem that either was hurt. It was Aren who leaned on Sayana, and Isolde remembered what the Eypharian had called back, something about running being a lot of work...? That made sense, right? He'd had to keep up with trotting horses for bells, toiling nearly all day. Just like Orin, he was probably tired, and would heal up with some rest and sleep. She didn't know what else either of them could do. Isolde had a bit of medical experience, but not nearly enough to call herself adept. 'Wait and see' was the only approach she could think of in this situation, especially so far away from the city.

"If anyone needs help with anything, don't be afraid to ask," she said, loudly enough that they all might hear, and then turned back to the horses.

Already they had begun to graze and munch on the grass and nearby bushes, and so Isolde decided that they could eat while she unloaded their tack and any other burdens. Cinnamon was closest, and so she started with her. Luckily she was tied and the rope wasn't too long; still, she was definitely wary of Isolde, and the Nuit had to move slow and quiet to keep her steady. Once she'd gotten ahold of the nervous horse's lead rope, she took the middle and knotted it so that it would be temporarily shorter, thinking that Cinnamon would be more easily handled if she couldn't leap away.

While the Nuit worked, she murmured in a low, soft voice to the horse. Removing a saddle wasn't really all that difficult. She pulled at the straps that tied the saddle on. There weren't many. Lady Tenna --or had it been one of the stable boys?-- had said that some horses had straps that went across their chest as well as under their belly; some had just one that went under, and some had two. Isolde worked as necessary with the saddles that were here. Though they might be slightly different from one another, they were all basically the same, so it wasn't hard to figure out.

After the straps were uncinched, Isolde folded up the long front strap --she knew it had a name, everything on the saddle had a name, but she couldn't think what it was-- and hung it from the saddle. This process could be repeated easily if there was another strap or two. When everything was all tied up neatly, the Nuit stood up on her tiptoes, grasped the saddle around the horn and the saddle pad at the front, and then pulled them both off in one smooth motion. Cinnamon shivered and tossed her head, but didn't move or startle, and so that was good.

The saddle was pretty heavy, especially with attached saddlebags, though not too bad, and she carried it and the pad back away from the horse. She hadn't wanted to put it down where Cinnamon might step on any of it or trip. In the stables there were these table-like things that saddles rested on, but she didn't have those here. For now, she put the saddle on the ground, not too far from Sayana and Orin and Aren, and thought maybe she could find something to hang it over later if they thought it was necessary. A stump of a fallen tree or a log or something.

The Nuit returned to Cinnamon's side, making certain not to sneak up too close behind her or scare her in any way, and then started to remove the bridle and bit. This, too, wasn't really that hard; a lot of the stuff was simple and had to do with common sense. Like saddles, she'd heard there could be variations in the way the bridle was strapped to the horse... but it wasn't a really big deal. All she had to do was undo the buckles. There were two straps that went around the horse's nose, and then one that went under her chin. These Isolde unstrapped, then reached up towards Cinnamon's ears and took the bridle from the top of her head, bringing it carefully, slowly forward to take it from her face. She made sure to be cautious of hurting Cinnamon's eyes or teeth. Once the bit was out of the mouth, Isolde hung the bridle from her wrist and reached back once more, this time for the reigns. These she pulled back over Cinnamon's head-- tangling for a moment in the rope she'd tied earlier, but she soon figured it out. Bridle removed, she folded the reigns so they'd be easier to handle and then slung the lot over the back of Sayana's saddle. She was planning on keeping each person's supplies apart, so that they'd know which was which.

Cinnamon done --at least for now-- the Nuit calmly walked to the next horse --which happened to be Gretta-- and started again. Saddle and saddlebags and saddle pad were removed, and then the bridle and bit. They were stacked away from the horses, and away from Sayana's things. Isolde took a moment to remove her own backpack and lay it by her other stuff, and then moved onto Marigold. Each horse she tied closer to the tree for the removal of tack, and left them that way for the time being. She figured that should she also need to brush them or clean them in other ways it made sense to keep them on a short leash.

Once Marigold's stuff was removed, Isolde lay it in the last pile, then stepped back to her own equipment and rooted through. The horse grooming kit she'd brought had made its way to the bottom of the bags, and she pulled it out and then opened it up. There were brushes, soap, a cloth for washing and for drying, and a hoofpick. The latter she wasn't so certain about. She hadn't picked a hoof before, simply watched someone else while they worked.

Other than that, she'd been told that it was important to really clean a horse after riding, especially since horses could sweat and the sweat could mat up their hair. Water, then. She would need water to rinse them off and wipe them down.

Behind, she heard some noise --talking?-- and Isolde looked back to see a ball of res floating to a pile of wood, then flickering and setting it alight. Aren fell back, obviously fatigued, and Isolde called out, "Is he okay?" She felt like she was asking that a lot today. "Aren? J-Just tired, or...?" Overgiving, especially out here where there was no one to help, could be disastrous. She knew the dangers. "Maybe someone should get him some food or water...? It might help. Resting would, too. Don't, ah, overwork." It felt odd giving advice like this, but she was serious. She wanted them all to avoid injury or severe exhaustion if she could help it.

Despite her concern, though, she believed the others could handle Aren and take care of him themselves, especially Sayana. If there weren't any problems, she would go back to her own task, this time finding her waterskin amongst her things and taking it back to Marigold's side.

OOCI couldn't figure out if Orin actually had saddlebags, but I didn't think so based on the first page of posts, so... please correct me if I'm wrong, and I'll edit this post to make it better. ^_^

[Orin Fenix]

Orin accepted his bag from Isolde with a grateful nod. He'd been too exhausted to give her further instructions on where he'd left it. Not that his memory of recent chimes was all that solid. Pain and exhaustion were turning his mind into a fog and his thoughts into mush. However, Orin still had one very important task left before he could finally rest. Besides the tent hadn't been erected quite yet and his companions probably would frown upon Orin either passing out or just sleeping where he was, even if it was far from the most uncomfortable bed Orin had been in. But they were depending on Orin to make their dinner and Orin hadn't gotten as far as he had without being able to make soup under almost any circumstance. In fact a few times after a particularly bad night with his father Orin had been in much worse shape and still had to get through the day. So Orin closed his eyes for a moment and just breathed. He imagined pain flowing out of him with each breath. While it was only a temporary measure it would help for long enough that Orin would be able to collect the last few ingredients and tools he'd need.

Opening up his bag Orin pulled out his four jars of beef stalk and his gallon cooking pot. Luckily water was nearby. Although Orin was having trouble walking he should still have just enough strength in him to make it to the river and back. At least, he hoped he would and if not, he'd die trying. Out of the corner of his eye Orin was vaguely aware of Isolde tending to their mounts and some inner fear eased. Orin had been quite concerned about Marigold and how poorly Orin had been taking care of her. Tomorrow he was resolved to pay closer attention to Marigold's health than his own. Turning his head to look at the soon to be fire, Orin realized he had another problem. There was no way to suspend the pot over the fire while it was cooking. Orin frowned, cursing himself internally for his lack of forethought. He knew there were was to make stands and to cook over an open fire but Orin personally didn't know what they were. So Orin stared at the fire willing his brain into sluggish motion as he attempted to find a solution. Finally, as he shifted uncomfortably on his boulder, his mind leapt into action. He could simply find two rocks and place the pot on top of them. He'd need to find four, actually, since Orin would need to adjust the height slightly. The idea was daunting but it was finally getting dark and Orin needed to use the residual light leftover from sunset to find his stones.

As he glanced at the barely visible sun, Orin realized he'd forgotten his prayer. Bowing his head quickly, Orin muttered it under his breath. He didn't particularly want any of the others to overhear him and ask questions Orin would rather not answer. "Thank you Syna for shining through another day and Leth for bringing us another night." That done, Orin picked up his stick and placed as much weight as he dared on it. Pulling himself laboriously to his feet. Orin maneuvered himself in the direction of the river by shuffling his feet and biting off any cries his body tried to utter. One step at a time. Pot clutched in one hand, Orin began limping slowly to the river's edge. When he reached down Orin kneeled down, despite his protesting limbs and filled the pot two thirds of the way. Getting back to his seat would prove more challenging since Orin needed both hands to hold the pot steady. However it wouldn't be as bad as getting through the day after one of his father's beatings. Throwing the stick back to where he'd come from, Orin steeled himself then rose to his feet with a groan. He essentially stumbled back in a controlled fall rather than someone with conscious control of his limbs. Finally reaching his perch, Orin sagged down in a slump. Placing the pot aside Orin picked up the stick again. Now Orin needed to set up his rock stove.

Using the stick, Orin poked and prodded at the nearest stones. Finally Orin had a few likely candidates and he scraped them slowly towards himself until they were finally in reach. Two of them were larger than the others which was fine, since Orin needed to bring the soup up to a boil then down to a simmer. He'd have to balance the pot and stack the rocks carefully but hopefully his makeshift solution would suffice. Orin stacked the larger rocks on either side of the fire and placed the pot on top. It looked a bit precarious so Orin lifted up the pot and shifted the rocks slightly closer together, pushing the twigs and logs together as well. Finally he was satisfied. Taking his jars Orin dumped the stock, leaving the pot three quarters filled then added the pre-chopped beef, barley, carrots and onions. At least this much Orin had thought to prepare in advance since he didn't think he'd get much of a chance to cut food in the woods. Once all of it had been dumped in the pot was nearly full. Orin gingerly placed it down and covered it.

Orin was rummaging about in his pack for flint and steel when Sayana and Aren returned. The Akalak didn't appear to be in great shape although Orin pointedly looked away from the man, wanting nothing to do with him. Unfortunately Aren didn't seem done with Orin since Orin soon heard him speak Orin's name. Apparently Orin had to be more obvious with his snubs so Orin twisted his torso until Aren could only see Orin's back, even though the movement sent a twinge of agony through his body. It was worth it to get Aren to go away. Orin finally found his flint and steel but as he came back to listen to the conversation it appeared Sayana had other ideas about the fire. Orin hesitated completely unsure if he wanted to speak up. He didn't really want to say anything, since Orin didn't know if he could control himself once he started. And it had been a long time since Orin had lit a fire with flint and steel, seeing as he was used to using the ever present torches in Stormhold and the coals that remained from previous fires elsewhere. On the flip side, Orin didn't want any help from Aren, especially if it was magical in nature. The last time Orin had seen magic in use by Aren it had been when the mercenary choked Orin unconsciously after beating on his body with it. So Orin didn't want any aid from that front.

However before Orin could decide the decision was taken out of his hands. The fire sparked and began to burn. Even Orin was forced to admit that Aren's magic was incredibly useful in this case. Orin's mind instantly jumped into thinking about ways Reimancy could be used in the kitchen. Starting fires was just the start of it. However, Orin couldn't think about it for long, because as the fire lit up, Aren simultaneously collapsed with a thump that even Orin had to look over for. Orin didn't really care much for Aren's health and well-being at this point but the other man didn't have a horse and if he was truly injured then it was just one more complication on this already seemingly cursed trip. Sayana and Isolde immediately dashed over to flutter over Aren and Orin felt a surge of resentment well up from a place he normally kept hidden from the world. It wasn't enough that Aren had to betray Orin's trust. The man even had to show up Orin in his injuries and get the sympathy of both Isolde and Sayana. While Orin was being unfair towards Isolde, at least, they hadn't seemed nearly as concerned with Orin's state. Orin didn't need to think about it any longer. The fire was burning merrily now, which meant Orin could cook. Orin added two of the larger logs to it just in case and to keep it going longer. Now everything was ready. And while his ability to focus exclusively on cooking to the detriment of everything else was a curse as often as it was a blessing, today at least it would let Orin shut out the world completely. And he probably should monitor the soup seeing as he was entirely unsure if this set-up over the fire would work.

Ignoring his companions Orin trained his gaze on the pot and let his mind drift aimlessly. He knew the age old adage that a watched pot never boiled but had never actually found it to be true. In his experience it started boiling far too soon before Orin was ready for the next step. Sure enough before Orin's conscience could kick in there was a bit of overflow from the pot. Wrapping his hands in the cloth from his shirt, Orin took the pot off, set it aside, added the two smaller rocks on top of the larger one, and replaced the pot in as smooth a motion and as quickly as he could manage. Taking the lid off, Orin was pleased to see that it had indeed dropped to a simmer. Replacing the lid, Orin returned to his pack to pull out the picnic basket. It had four bowls and four spoons that would be perfect for Orin's purposes. Taking up one spoon, Orin set the rest to one side. Orin would stir the soup periodically and hopefully it would be done in approximately a half bell.

Orin let himself mostly shut down. He could do this and practically had in the past done this in his sleep. His awareness narrowed to the pot and nothing else. In fact, he very well might have dozed off at some point. Eventually though his nose informed him that the soup was ready. Coming out of his daze, Orin lifted the pot off the fire and placed it next to his seat. Orin knocked the rocks away to let the fire breath and let the light shine across their campsite. Taking up the bowls Orin filled three of them up most of the way through the simple expedient of dipping them in the pot and added a tiny amount to the fourth one in case Isolde wanted to taste it. Speaking up for what felt like the first time in bells, Orin's voice came out as a rusty croak. "Dinner is ready, help yourself." With that Orin began eating his own bowl, hardly tasting the food.

OOCTwo things. One, again, sorry I disappeared for a bit there. Second, feel free to do things while Orin is cooking he'll just be mostly unresponsive and I wanted to keep this moving