PM to join Stranger meets girl (Clyde)

[Shiress]

Shiress listened to the man as he answered her inquiries, noting a bit of irritation, maybe reluctance, in his tone as he spoke. This Clyde was a private man, Shiress could tell. Reserved, perhaps. That, or he just wanted her to keep her nose in her own business. Shiress grimaced upon hearing of her interruption of the man's quiet evening and decided to ask no further questions of the stranger.

"Cook?" Shiress' eyebrows rose "Yeah, well, I can try." she smiled "Maybe between the both of us we can come up with something edible. I owe you the effort, anyway"

Shiress raised herself to her feet slowly, using the tree for support. The world spun. Closing her eyes, she laid a hand across her belly, willing down the wave of nausea forming. With a deep and determined breath, she took a hesitant step forward. Surprisingly, the wound in her thigh didn't hurt as bad as the one in her calf. The blade must have missed muscle. A flesh wound then. Sliding her lower lip between her teeth, she pivoted her leg around to look at her calf. It was beginning to swell. She cursed silently to herself, then lifted the hem of her skirt to above her thigh, making sure there was no new bleeding. There wasn't. So far.

With that done, she let her skirt, what was left of it, fall back into place and let out a sigh. "As to why I am out here" she said, taking a couple more test steps on her leg. "I can show you. It'll help with supper, too" she nodded toward the boar "If you want to cut out a couple handfuls of meat from that, I'll go get my basket." She smiled tiredly and limped off.

The place where she had dropped her basket wasn't far -through a few trees, around a couple more- but, by the time she had gotten there, her heart was pounding and she had fine droplets of sweat running down her cheeks. She paused, leaning against a tree, breathing hard. She was hurt worse than she had thought, or, bled a lot more than she had thought. Either way, resting beside a campfire, sipping soup, sounded appealing to the girl right then.

After several chimes, she had regained herself enough to push off the tree and retrieve her basket, still filled with the big mushrooms and wild onions she had gathered earlier, and limp back in the direction of where she had come.

"As I said earlier" she began, breathing hard between words, as she came back into view of the stranger "I work at The Stallion" She drew in a deep breath and blew it out, stirring the fallen ringlets of chestnut hair around her face "The cook had me come pick these" she tilted the basket forward, enough to allow Clyde to see inside. "I know its not much, but it will put a little taste in the pot, right?"

Her gaze drifted just past Clyde and settled on a half dead and struggling blackberry bush, poking up through some shrubbery. "And.." she said, stepping lightly forward, handing the man the basket as she past. She knelt down beside the wilted bush and placed her hand, gently, against its cane, closing her eyes. She let all her attention and focus go into the small bush, sending it down into its crown, the soil, and roots. Then, she called to Bala.

Shiress began to feel the mark on her leg waken and start to tingle. After a moment, she opened her eyes and smiled. The bush had sprung back to life, ripening with giant berries. She plucked several plump blackberries from the bush and straightened. Turning, she caught Clyde's gaze and grinned, offering the berries forward. "..we can have these for desert"

[Clyde Sullins]

While Shiress went off stumbling, Clyde went through his own things, searching his gear. After a chime or so he emerged, his dagger in hand. However once he had it out he thought better of using it on the boar as he had nowhere to put anything he cut off of it. He also wasn't sure what to cut, he didn't think all of it was meat.

His eyes lingered on the boars tusk, still bloody. Considering the various injuries on the woman he assumed she'd been gored at some point by that tusk, now dislodged but stuck to a portion of the greater mashed up bit of boar head. The tusk was stuck to an odd bit of material which was a mix of skull and meat, blood and flesh.

Heading over to it, Clyde took out the dagger and tried to cut off the tusk from the surrounding tissue and bone, doing his best to dislodge it. Using it more like a saw, he tried to hew away, keeping going high up where tusk met skull so as to remove the complete tusk.

After a chime or so he'd managed to cut a small groove into the place where tusk met skull, which made it easier to continue his cutting. By then Shiress had returned, basket in hand.

Clyde didn't comment or assist as she stumbled about. He assumed if she needed help she'd tell him, and she seemed to know more about such things, treating injuries and such, than he did. He simply took the offered basket, setting it aside out of the way before continuing to cut at the boar and try to dislodge its intact tusk wet with Shiress' blood.

His focus had been on his task, however he paused in his action and turned back to Shiress, staring as the bush she'd been touching started to move and... Grow? Change? Something, which Clyde wasn't sure of.

Before it had been barely alive, doing its best but failing. Now it seemed... Rejuvenated, was the only term that seemed appropriate to the mage.

It had now had plump ripe berries upon it, and seemed changed from its former sorry state.

Clyde eyes narrowed, studying the bush and the woman in turn, not taking the proffered berries.

He didn't react with anger, as some in Syliras might, but more like confusion. As if she'd dropped a large puzzle right before him, without explaining its purpose or what was to be done with it.

Clearly, Clyde knew, it was some form of gnosis magic. He knew it wasn't personal magic, since he'd felt no djed on the air. He was fairly certain it wasn't World Magic, since he felt no strong aura's of a created item or effect nearby besides his own things. The lack of active djed being felt within his aura with such a visible display only logically left Gnosis magic. What gnosis, or what god though, Clyde couldn't fathom. He had a vague enough knowledge of the general Pantheon of gods about the world that he wasn't surprised it was one he'd not heard of, though he knew usually the effect was tied in some way to the god it related to.

Clyde just wasn't sure what that was. Had she given life to the bush? Healed it? Made it grow? Was it a connection to the plant, or had she made it age? Clyde wasn't sure what she'd done, but he was startled to unknowingly come across such a thing when he'd felt such a grasp on the situation previously.

“Your marked? What...What was that then? Or who is it related to? I can keep track of all these things, I swear every time I see one its one I've not heard of before.”

[Shiress]

When Clyde made no move for the offered berries, Shiress' smile faded a little. She hadn't had a chance to properly wash her hands, and decided that maybe this was his reason. She shrugged, slightly, plucked a berry from her hand, and popped it in her mouth.

Then, he spoke, and she knew his reservation. Her chewing paused, momentarily, as the realization that her gnosis may have been foolishly revealed. Shiress used her mark so rarely these days, that it was easy to forget discretion from the pure enjoyment of using it again. It had taken seasons for her to even look at the mark, much less call upon it. Being enslaved and abused for the gnosis's properties had taken its toll.

"I am." she said around a mouthful of berry, then hobbled around the man and dropped the remaining blackberries in the basket, the thrill of the good deed fading. "Bala, the goddess of cultivation, marked me when I was young." She knelt down and began collecting pieces of wood and kindling lying around her feet.

Plucking a small stick from the ground, she glanced up. "I can speed up the ripening process, with a touch," she gave a slight smile, "comes in handy sometimes." Gathering as many sticks as she could in her arms, she limped to a small clearing, and let the firewood drop to the ground, then lowered herself, stiffly, beside it -her leg was really beginning to throb and her head to spin- and began arranging it in a neat pile. "It's the most for a campfire that I can do" she said, glancing up. "I don't know how to make a fire." Looking away, she pulled the basket to her lap, noting that her hands were trembling again. "I have some mushrooms and wild onion here, if we can use them for the meal. I hope you have a pot of some kind, because I don't." she glanced up, then down to his hand, noticing the dagger, then looked to the boar. She frowned, seeing the half removed tusk, but decided not to ask.

"I think my walking around is done for the day," she pushed back hair from her face, grimacing "but if I can do it and sit at the same time, I'll help any way I can to make camp."

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde wasn't surprised to hear Shiress say she was marked, though he'd not heard of Bala before. He took in the tidbit of information as he did many others, storing it away while he continued his work. He still had his dagger on the boar skull/tusk, and was doing his best to extract it intact as an entire tusk.

He tried to ponder what she'd done, but until she explained it didn't make the connection between cultivating something and the effect he'd seen. However once she explained it the mark made a bit more sense. A useful mark in the right situation, in its own way at least Clyde felt.

By the time Shiress finished gathering firewood Clyde had managed to extract the tusk, more or less intact and without extra or missing bits, his goal at the task. He planned to perhaps use it for a magic he'd not tried yet, at least use it when he had the time.

Wiping the dagger and removed tusk clean Clyde put the tusk away in his pack, wrapping it within the folds of his winter blanket for safety. Gesturing at the tusk as he put it away, Clyde simply stated “souvenir” to explain himself.

A small smile came to his face as she said that she didn't know how to start a fire. Clyde began to dig through his own things, finding his bit of flint and steel and removing it. Starting fires was one of the few things he reliably knew how to do without magic, at least as far as survival skills went.

“I don't have a pot, but perhaps we could skewer the food and cook it over the fire on the stick? Starting a fire though, I do know how to do that. I just need something easy to catch to get it going. Kindling.”

Heading off into the woods Clyde searched about, finding various bits of leaves and such along the woods floor. He picked dry brown ones that would burn easy, getting as much as he could hold in two cupped hands without them spilling out. Heading back to the campfire he dropped the small pile of leaves, and crouched down next to the wood. Shiress had gathered.

“We'll need more wood once it gets going, but this should be fine to start. You strike the steel on the flint, and that makes sparks. That catches the little dry bits, the leaves and such, and makes a small flame. You get that going underneath a small bit of wood, twigs and such, and get it going, and then use that to start some bigger sticks going. Then you keep adding wood and making it bigger till you've got a fire going.”

Clyde would hand Shiress the flint and steel, letting her hold and inspect it, while he went off in search of more wood. He'd spend the next quarter bell or so getting more wood from the forest floor, branches, twigs, small logs, and other various sizes, sorting them into stacks by type at the campsite.

He didn't notice Shiress' trembling, assuming she was just stressed from the exercise after the bleeding. Unless she mentioned it causing her a problem he likewise wouldn't think to ask, under the assumption she knew more about such things than he did.

[Shiress]

As Clyde tutored Shiress on the making of a fire, she listened distractedly, not registering that he would want her to do it. So, as he handed the objects down to her, her back straightened in surprise, eyes darting from her hands, to him, then back again to her hands. As comprehension settled in, words finally made it to her tongue, but he was disappearing into the trees. She stared after him a tick, then gave a forceful sigh through pursed lips, resigned.

Tucking a chestnut ringlet behind an ear, she scooted up close to the pile of wood and made a tent like indention near the bottom and slid her hands in. After a moment of consideration she began striking the flint against the steel. After some time of doing this, with no result, she thought better of her choice of positioning. She switched the objects around and began striking the steel against the flint. It worked! Almost immediately a spark flew out from beneath the steel. Shiress grinned, leaning into her challenge with alacrity.

It took some time, but just before Shiress thought her arms would fall off, a small billow of smoke rolled off a patch of dried leaves. The girl smiled, admiring her work. Then frowned, as the smoke shifted and disappeared. Again, she began striking the flint rock, vigorously, until yet again a small snake of smoke coiled out from the brown leaves. This time she wasted no time in fanning the small area and when the smoke, again, threatened to disappear, she leaned down, wincing as the motion pulled at her wounds, and began to blow against the smoke.

After several, long, steady breaths, she could see a dull orange showing through the smoke, then, a small flame popped up and spread quickly to neighboring debris. Quickly, she began placing bigger twigs and sticks around the young flame, then surrounded those with more dried leaves as the flame began to spread. And spread it did. Fast. In no time the small flame had become a hot, roaring blaze.

Shiress scooted back from the radiating heat, and settled against a near by tree trunk, a broad, tooth bearing smile spreading across her lips. Firelight danced across her features, dazzling her emerald eyes, as she admired her creation. "I did it.." she whispered.

[Clyde Sullins]

Fire was one thing Clyde naturally had a fascination with since he'd been a child. Most children in some fashion or other did, but Clyde more so than most considering he'd been able to create it at will with his djed.

She seemed a bit surprised that Clyde was trusting her with the task, though he'd thought that had been self evident as he'd spent the time to explain the process to her instead of just doing it. Plus starting a fire was something you could do without moving overly much, whereas getting firewood and such required quite a bit of moving.

He didn't tell her to do it, didn't force her. Instead he implied his expectation, and left her to it while he did what she couldn't. Perhaps such methods often worked better than giving an order, considering when he'd returned she had a fire going. Or perhaps it was less getting her to do what he wanted, and more giving her a lesson and having her practice it on his own. Teaching was another interest of his, one he'd held almost as long as fire. He vaguely recalled teaching as a child, instructing and explaining here in Syliras the things he understood that others failed to grasp.

Magic, before it had been taken. Before it had been returned.

Once he'd collected a decent bit of firewood to tide them over most of the night, he returned to inspect Shiress' work. It was aflame, if only, though not terrible for a first attempt.

Settling down before the fire, Clyde simply nodded in respect to the accomplishment, and picked out some narrow branches.

“If we take off the twigs and such off of this, it should serve as a decent spear of sorts to cook on over the fire. I suppose we could also try some of the meat, but... Well I'm not all that skilled at cooking, not at all really, so unless you know how perhaps the plants alone would be better.”

Handing Shiress one of the length of wood, Clyde once more returned his gaze to Cha at his side, leaned against his foot and away from the flames. So far the woman had not questioned him about Cha, and so he had no desire to bring it up unbidden. Normally it was one of the first things people brought up, being an odd length of blue wood, but as he also had Rye with him and she'd been being attacked so it'd perhaps not crossed her mind.

He never let the length of blue Muran wood out of reach, and almost always had it in his hand.

“So, how does one go about being marked by Bala? I'm not too familiar with too many gods, but that one doesn't ring a bell. But then I'm notoriously bad at recalling them...”

[Shiress]

Shiress took the small branch from Clyde's proffered hand and began breaking off the smaller branches and buds growing from it's shaft. Once the branch was smooth, Shiress leaned over and pulled a large mushroom from her basket, sticking it on the end of her stick. "I saw some from a caravan I was with once eat these," holding her stick out, she hovered it over the flame, "after warming it over the fire for a bit."

Leaning down again, she pulled another mushroom from the basket and offered it toward Clyde. "It's good enough for me, but if you would like meat, I'm pretty sure you just do the same, maybe a bit longer." She smiled, then settled back, letting her mushroom warm over the open fire.

Glancing up, she followed the man's eyes to the odd stick by his side. A walking stick to Shiress' eyes, but Shiress had a strange feeling it was much more, especially considering the man's earlier reaction to being parted with it and his stern visage when he saw it in her possession. Not to mention his unwillingness to let the twisted length of wood out of his sight. Clearing her throat, Shiress opened her mouth to finally put voice to her curiosity, but Clyde's own beat her to it.

Bala..

Long it had been, indeed, since dredging up that memory; the day a beautiful Goddess strolled out of the trees right in front of her. The girl leaned up, wincing as pain lanced up her leg with the movement, and pulled her now smoking, and somewhat shriveled, mushroom from the fire.

"It was a long time ago." She said, attempting to pinch off a portion of mushroom, but deciding it too hot. "I bought an old, dead rose bush for, I don't know, what ever was in my pocket." She chuckled. "I think I was 10, maybe 11 years old. I fell in love with that rose bush." Shiress smiled fondly, shaking her head at the memory. Deciding her meal cool enough to touch, she tore off a small chunk of mushroom between her fingertips, popped it in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed, before continuing.

"For days I cared for that bush. Prayed for it. Watered it. Talked to it." Shiress' gaze fell to the stick held in her hand, falling silent, as the memory fully surfaced. Firelight danced slowly across her features, shadowing half her face, while giving a wild glow to the other half, emerald eyes aglow. "The heart of a child." She said, her voice barely a whisper. "The night before she came to me, I was sure the bush had died. I stayed outside all night, praying to see some sign of life from that bush." Shiress grinned. "Instead, I saw a Goddess at dawn and she blessed me to go forth and aid Her in the birth of her creations." Her grinned widened, gaze lifting to find Clyde's. "I bet you can guess what I tried out my brand new gift on."

Shiress fell silent a last time, gaze descending once again to her meager meal, her story ended. Or was it? There was the time in her life that that gnosis had enslaved her; having been used to thicken a slave master's purse, as well as his fields. She wondered vaguely what the man would think of that bit of her life. He wouldn't care, she decided. No one seemed to.

Her appetite suddenly abated, Shiress let the stick fall from her hands,feeling feverish, as the ache in her leg throbbed and burned with renewed heat, face paling beneath the veil of shadows. Lifting her face, she rested her chin in her open hand, green gaze finding the man's blue, shifted to the staff, then returned.

"What about you?" she asked, brows arching, "Do you have a story to share?"

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde took one of the offered shrooms after clearning another piece of wood, spearing it on the smoothed length of wood. He however cooked his more than just warming it, holding it a bit closer and turning it slowly in the heat. Fire killed, but not always people. It could also kill all the little bits of things living on other things, which Clyde didn't want to eat.

The last thing he needed was to eat some worm riddled plant, only to have them pop out in his mouth. Cooking it more thoroughly, he assumed, would reveal any hiding nasty before he ate. It also meant it would take longer than the woman did to cook, letting him therefore watch her eat and not die.

He didn't doubt her words, and she seemed honest enough, but Clyde was known for his caution. He was also alive in no small part due to it.

Shiress' shroom was somewhat shriveled and smoking from its treatment. Clyde's by comparison was darkened, even burnt in a few small spots. The constant motion had apparently been a good tactic, as it kept the plant from outright burning or bursting into flame, but a few spots still fell to the fire.

By the time he'd finished cooking Shiress had already launched into her tale, though he listened to her words as his eyes focused on his hands actions of preparing the food. Then it would need to cool, giving him more time to listen.

Her story of how she gained her gnosis was far different from his own to say the least. Still it painted a picture of the interests of this deity, what drew their interest, along with what they did. An informative story if nothing else.

When the woman dropped her food without eating it, Clyde at first grew suspicious. He certainly refused to eat afterwards, if she wouldn't even eat the plant. For a moment Clyde wondered if she had been trying to poison him, before he noted her actions and reactions. Her body. Her wound. Disparate facts and sights tied together, and Clyde eyed her more closely.

He reached out at Shiress once more in his aura sight, seeing her within it as truly as by the suns fading light.

“I am a learner, and a teacher. I explore, and expand. You however... You need to work on your lying. You are clearly unwell, and trying to hide it. Now what am I to do with you, if you keel over while trying to hide this fact? I know nothing of what to do, whereas you seem to. So why don't we treat you as we must, before you pass out and I'm left to muddle about on my own? Eh? And I imagine you'd do well to lie down, before you keel over. Now, tell me, the truth now of things.”

Clyde spoke firmly, but not angrily, making it clear he would suffer no fool and was not one himself. He spoke as one expecting obedience, one expecting only a fool to disobey, and taking charge and lead of the situation.

[Shiress]

The man's sudden assessment took the girl by surprise, not to mention the accuracy of it. Her attempt to hide the pain she was in from her features, obviously, fell way short of the mark.

Shiress gaped at the man, a look something between shock and outrage taking turns to dominate her expression. Licking dry lips, her mouth moved soundlessly, as she struggled with both, wanting to voice a denial of the accusation and vindicating herself as a liar at the same time. Realizing she could do neither, she pressed her lips together and let her gaze fall to the fire, hiding the tears filling her eyes.

Having been through so much turmoil in recent seasons, Shiress' surging need to overcome the appearance of weakness and helplessness had taken flight, soaring high above anything else. But somehow, she always seemed to find herself in the exact state she didn't want to be in, which was weak and helpless.

She was so frustratingly tired of it.

Fighting back the flood of tears from escaping down her cheek, Shiress cleared her throat and, being the definite fool that she was, replied in a soft voice, "I'll be fine."

It wasn't a lie, she would be fine until morning and then she would see a healer, but the more she thought of what Clyde had said, the harder she had to fight to hold back the threatening tears, and the overwhelming feeling of defeat. He was right. Out in the woods, minding his own business, then suddenly, and quite unwillingly, drawn into Shiress' drama, the man had a right to know the truth. He was only trying to help, and she, in no way, wanted Clyde to feel the same helpless feeling that currently consumed her, if she did happen to become incapacitated.

But the thought of her voicing complaints, of her whining poor, pitiful Shiress is in pain, with a fever to boot, to this stranger made her clinch her teeth so tightly it made her jaw ache. Pulling her gaze away from the fire, she took in the darkening forest around her, suddenly wanting nothing more than to slip away into the trees and fend for herself, vacating Clyde from her personal and meaningless battles. She had done it before. Maybe one day they will cross paths again and he will see nothing but a strong, confident, and independent woman.

"Even if I do keel over, there's nothing to be done anyway," she said, resignedly, gaze settling back on the fire. "nothing that I could do, or yourself, anyway. I think the bleeding has stopped." she added, too afraid to look to confirm her statement. "I have a fever, but I'm not sure if it's the wound beginning to fester or just from the trauma." Lifting her hands, she cupped her cheeks "I dont think it's very high, but I cant tell, my hands are cold." Lifting her eyes, she gave Clyde a quick smile, before falling silent, eyes traveling back again to the comfort of the firelight.

After a time, She spoke into the silence, "I really am sorry, Clyde." Still trying to hold back the flood of tears, her voice began to tremble. She took in calming a breath and blew it out. "I'm sorry my drama and I crossed your path. I'm sorry that you had to get involved. I'm sorry," the dam broke and a flood of tears streamed down Shiress' cheeks, "I'm sorry for the trouble I have caused." she sniffed and scrubbed what little remained of her sleeve under her nose, smiling reassuringly, "but I will be fine." Pulling herself backwards, Shiress leaned against a tree trunk, twisting and scooting until she could rest comfortably, with minimal pain. As soon as she settled and stilled, her eyelids became heavy and she yawned widely.

"Now, how about that story?"

OOCShiress will fall asleep within a few minutes, feel free to encourage it IC if you would like.

[Clyde Sullins]

At first it seemed she would profess her denial of Clyde's words, but before she mustered herself to utter the falsity it passed and the truth rung out on her face.

When she finally did speak it was in a half heart-ed and meek statement that clearly even she didn't believe, let alone Clyde.

After an interminable silence Shiress spoke again, somewhat admitting her issues while professing that there was also nothing to be done. Clyde listened as she spoke, describing her various problems, injuries, and ailments, all of which did seem beyond Clyde's current skills to treat without some form of instruction. And if she was in denial of her problems then Clyde reasoned she wasn't too likely to give any such instructions.

When she began to cry Clyde awkwardly looked away, though he could still see her plainly enough by her aura.

When she finally finished speaking and apologizing, Clyde let out a sigh and looked to meet her eyes once more.

“You forget, I'm here of my own volition. You didn't force me. And I was already out here, in the woods, you didn't drag me here to help you. So stop acting like you forced me to do anything, and apologizing. If I offered, its because I intended to give said offering, not because I felt forced to or otherwise.”

“As for a story, I never said I'd tell any such thing. You asked, and I responded, and now you've asked again. But my story... Well is my story. I've been about. I've traveled. I've learned. I've taught. I've grown. I've lost. I've fought and won, lost and ran, been the taker and the taken. But now is the now, and while the past shapes me as I am now, I am what I am.”

By the time Clyde finished speaking Shiress had dozed off.

Feeling tired himself Clyde set about preparing himself for sleep nearby, knowing he'd have other things to deal with on the morrow.