Closed The Long Road Ahead (Belugnir)

[Zavya]

As a woman who quite literally possessed a second skin, Zavya didn’t seem so convinced, eyeing Einar doubtfully as he went on about the necessity for armor. She supposed it made sense to reinforce the squishy human parts with something a little stronger, but the Kelvic could never see herself getting used to it. The tigress had no fondness for clothing in general, much less clothing that weighed her down so heavily. As soon as they were out in the woods, she had every intention of peeling away every hateful layer and feeling the earth beneath her paws once more. The sooner they could leave this rancid pile of human waste behind, the better.

“I’m not some thoughtless murderer, you know,” Zavya snapped back at him with a glare when he started scolding her about not killing anyone she didn’t have to. “Do you really think now that there’s no collar around my neck, I’m going to just go hacking your ax around the canals of Ravok? Come on, now. I know you can’t think much of me, but give me a little more credit than that.”

The mercenary’s warning about his horse had her rolling her eyes. “I might not be a murderer, but I am a predator, Einar,” she reminded him with the barest hint of a sneer. “It’s not my fault your horse smells so petching delicious.” Zavya made a point of licking her lips before smacking them with a noise of appreciation. She cut him a sidelong look before she added, “But fine. I won’t try to eat him again. Can’t say I won’t bother him, though. I won’t go out of my way to bother him, mind, but animals like that… grass eaters… they tend to get a bit jumpy when I’m around, even in this skin. The hunted always know the hunter.”

After that, she went quiet again, watching her surly companion finish gathering up his gear with an unreadable expression. Gonna be a long few weeks with all this bickering, she thought with an imperceptible sigh. Maybe if I don’t talk, he won’t either.

When everything seemed to be put away, Zavya wordlessly grabbed a couple of the bags and slung them over her shoulder before looking at Einar expectantly. There wasn’t much more to be done here as far as she could tell, and his packing had seemed to signal the end of their brief stay. She had no wish to waste any more daylight. The Kelvic stepped back for him to precede her, then followed out the door behind him.

It wasn’t long before the unlikely pair found themselves back out in the winding streets and canals of the city, Zavya doing her best to look as Einar said—mean, scowly, and disinterested as if there was no one out for her blood. She wasn’t sure how successful she was, but if the measure of her heart’s pounding was a determining factor… it wasn’t very.

Calm down, she told herself, fist clenched tight around Einar’s poleax. Remember what he said. You can’t let them see.

The tigress kept her shoulders hunched and eyes on the ground in front of her, pulling the mantle up around her face to draw attention away from the telltale eyes. She shifted one of the packs over her shoulder and kept close to the man warding her, but not close enough that she was like to trip over him at any moment like before. Just keep walking. Just keep breathing. It’s a day like any other. Everything is fine.

Those four sentences she kept repeating in her head, over and over and over, until they lost their meaning and just became a string of nonsense. But it was a string of nonsense that kept her sane and kept her moving in spite of the lead that seemed to weigh down her feet. It was better than nothing.

“How long is the walk from here?” she asked in a low murmur, trying to keep her voice low and gruff—hopefully convincing enough to sound more like a man in case anyone was listening. “I haven’t been in this part of the city before.”

[Belugnir]

''I didn't see you giving much thought to it when you jumped me in the woods, lass. And until I know for certain I can trust you to keep your head on your shoulders by yourself out there, you better get used to the nagging.''

He decided to settle on her word that she'll not go out of her way to bother Fin, letting go of the bickering that could have gone back and forth, birthed from her tone. Ein didn't think much of her, true, yet the southerner hardly thought much of anyone to begin with. There was an odd, albeit sparse joy he'd begun to find, however, in sassing about with another who did not happen to command social or personal power far beyond his own. To be able to bicker without second guessing whether or not he'll start a brawl over every sneer passed between them... it felt liberating, almost.

Having tucked away the last of his equipment as neatly as he could into leather bags and pouches, Einar went about tying up a length of bandage about the ruined side of his face, swiping his messy length of hair to the back of his head and tying it into a loose bun. It did not do much but along with the robes he still wore, it certainly tipped him further toward the image of an injured merchant rather than a shameless murderer in disguise. Regardless, the old, heavy dagger was again tucked into his belt and plenty of bags were slung over his back. He made a point of not letting Zavya carry either their food supply or the fire-fuel he had purchased just then, instead loading her out with bags that held spare clothing, toiletries and the like. One brief exchange with the innkeep and they were off, and Ein led the way with a stride.

After a time of pacing through the streets, just as Zavya first spoke up in inquiry, they'd found themselves before a busy building, before which lingered the joined scents of sweat and molten iron.

''We're not far off. I'll be a moment.'', before Zavya would have had a chance to protest, Ein was already disappearing into the shop, and he would indeed come out again in a matter of moments, carrying two heavy, round bundles wrapped in cloth, clattering loudly at any excessive movement. He'd passed by the forge on his previous run through the city and ordered the armor he and Elias arranged for some time ago be packed up and ready for taking. And now here it was, only he hadn't cause nor time to put it on as he would like, instead giving one of the heavy bundles to Zavya and pausing to deliver a sound warning.

''Do not drop or lose this.'', with that alone, they would continue on their way, coming into view of the outer docks but several chimes later.

After half a chime of vain hollering at a ferryman who'd just taken off across the lake with severe indifference for the two stragglers, Ein turned to Zavya with a horribly sour tone.

''Petch 'em sideways, stuckup bastards... You, g-lad...'', whatever misguided frustration he was going to take out verbally was quickly set aside, his one-eyed gaze narrowed on something off in the distance and behind the girl, and his tone faltered to something more mundane. ''Come along now.'', he turned around with a lack of haste, albeit he made it rather apparent that he did so simply to let the girl could keep up and maintain a distance suitable for whispering.

''Frown and squint as much as you can without being obvious. Keep by my side. Don't look the ferrymen in the eye... and do not look behind you.'', silent and maintaining his posture as he was, his tone betrayed horrible distress.

Thankfully enough, should Zavya have done her part and kept her profile low, and her back turned as Ein would guide her to, she would soon find herself conveniently witness to Ein's brief exchanges with a new ferryman... and soon enough would end up tasked with neatly arranging their baggage under the seats of a vast boat, meant to take off within some ten chimes... And just as she would be through with that errand, with minimal help from Einar, for the sake of maintaining the entire bodyguard charade, a familiar voice might have made itself notable in the passing crowds on the dock above.

''...my concern... I want you to find her and bring her to me, I won't scoff if you have to...'', Ryker Valindox sounded none to joyful over employing the company and service of the four men that slowly walked the street above by his side, yet seemed oblivious to the goings-on about him, and should Einar have caught Zavya's gaze at that moment, every motion and wrinkle visible upon the man would stand urging her to keep her head down and about the facade of their business whilst they waited for the ferry to receive the rest of its passengers and take off.

''Sit down, tuck your head in and look forward.'', he hissed hastily, taking his own seat under the modest cover at the middle of the boat.

[Zavya]

“Because, obviously, I’m well-inclined to losing packages half the size I am,” Zavya muttered, not quite under her breath, when she found the bulky parcel shoved into her arms. No more than that did she say, glaring half-heartedly at his back as they continued toward the docks. How long was he going to act like she was some idiotic child? The Kelvic might be naïve to the ways of the world, but she was not stupid. If nothing else was gained from this extended excursion, she’d make sure he knew it. The tigress was done with people underestimating her.

The tiger’s disappointment mirrored Einar’s when they reached the dock at last, only to find the ferryman indifferently poling away. Three ticks sooner, and they could have been on that craft… Zavya, however, kept her misgivings to herself, content to let the sour mercenary shout his indignance across the water. She sighed heavily as she watched it leave before turning her attention back to the scarred up face whose expression had very abruptly changed.

A frown crossed her brow at his advisement, walking at his side as they stepped further along the planks. That frown only deepened when he continued to speak, ending it with “...and do not look behind you.” Her heart leapt into her throat, wondering what could possibly have prompted him to say such a thing. What the hell was behind her?

Zavya did her best to do what Einar said, frowning and squinting and keeping her eyes away from the new ferryman, who thankfully paid her no mind—all the while fighting the urge to cast her gaze back and pick out the threat her companion seemed to find. There weren’t many things she could imagine provoking such a reaction, and none of them boded well for her. The Kelvic wouldn’t have to worry for long, though. The sound of a familiar voice soon answered that question for her.

It was all the tigress could do not to bolt—back up the dock, headfirst into the water, it didn’t matter. She couldn’t stay here! Not with him so close! If her master saw her, he would know her; of that, she had no doubt. No haircut or masculine attire could possibly hide who she was, not when it came to Ryker. The Valdinox was many things, but a fool was not one of them.

Her knees trembled and her fists clenched, white-knuckled inside the steel gauntlets she wore. Hold it together, she told herself firmly, stepping onto the boat after her warder. So intent she was on keeping her gaze lowered, she smacked right into his back with a muttered apology. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she settled herself on his other side—the side farthest from the dock. Nervous fingers tugged at the wolf pelt mantle and pulled it up yet further before she linked her hands and settled them in her lap.

The Kelvic lowered her head and closed her eyes as if in prayer, which wasn’t entirely an act. Zavya was praying, albeit wordlessly and to no particular deity—in a situation like this, somehow she doubted Rhysol would be the one to answer her pleas. At least, not in the way she wanted them answered. Anywhere but here, anywhere but here, she kept silently repeating, hoping beyond hope that either she or Ryker might simply disappear. At this point, it didn’t much matter who.

Unfortunately for her frayed psyche, Ryker’s voice only came closer, barking instructions and descriptions at the men around him until he was sure they would suffice. “…Gold eyes and dark hair, medium height with a variety of scars. Likely in the company of another girl a few inches shorter with long brown hair, green eyes, and a set of tits that’d make your mother weep.” A few hearty guffaws followed the man’s lewd comment before Zavya heard several sets of boots stop on the dock… no more than a few yards from where she sat.

No, please, keep moving, she thought frantically, screwing her eyes closed tighter and wishing that she could simply collapse into herself. She was sure her heartbeat was loud enough the fish could hear it. This is impossible! This can’t be happening!

“Ferryman!” she heard Ryker call, fists clenching harder when she flinched. “Do you have a chime to answer a question or two?”

“Aye,” was the gruff response. “Though ye’d best make it quick.”

“Of course, my good man. I’ll only be a moment.” Ryker cast a cursory glance over the smattering of passengers before turning back to the man at the helm. “I’m on the lookout for a girl about this high,” he said and held his hand parallel to his chest, “Black hair, tanned skin, bright golden eyes. Scars on each cheekbone, black sun on her hand. Probably wearing a collar. Might be with another girl close to her height, a green-eyed brunette, a little paler and shorter. Sound like anyone you’ve picked up recently? I have very good reason to believe they could be trying to leave the city.”

He’s looking for Shiress too? Zavya thought with a rising tide of panic, fighting to keep even her breathing silent. Not sure if that’s good luck or bad…

“Nay. ” The ferryman was obviously not a very verbal fellow, offering nothing more than that.

Zavya could practically hear Ryker grinding his jaw, the short silence that followed indicative of her master’s annoyance. Just accept it and keep moving…

“All right, then. If you do happen to pick anyone like that up… alert the guard, will you? One of them is escaped Valdinox property. It wouldn’t be wise for you to help her.” With that not so subtle threat hanging in the air, the tigress heard footsteps turn and move in the other direction, slowly fading into the distance, along with the sound of her master’s voice.

Several chimes later, once she was absolutely certain they were gone and that the boat was disembarking, Zavya dared to open her eyes and let loose a deep, shuddering sigh. The girl slumped forward until her head was nearly touching her knees, taking deep breaths through her nose and fighting the urge to pass out. “I think my heart might have broken a rib or two,” she muttered into her lap, just loud enough that only Einar would be able to hear her. “You know how to set bones?”

With another sigh, she straightened up just enough to look his way. “How long is this ferry ride? Long enough that if that petcher up there looks close enough, he might match a description?”

[Belugnir]

Ein grumbled quietly, casting sideways glances at the girl with his one good eye as she came to sit at his side and display just how much the threat of her master bothered her. Thankfully, she managed not to completely fall apart, and held herself together whilst the ferryman indifferently saw Ryker off... And as Zavya exhaled her weighty tension, Einar too, let loose a sigh, stopped leaning forward to cover the grip on his dagger's handle with his other arm, and straightened up in his seat.

''Ribs will heal.'', the southerner uttered under his breath, eyeing the city as they drew distance from it upon the still waters, unable to even tell if Zavya was tossing a grim jest or not. He proceeded to wait 'till the ferryman was by his helper's side at the tip of the boat before turning to Zavya properly to answer her second concern.

''It's about four bells long... Long enough to catch an ounce of sleep... or pretend to. Now straighten up and stop lookin' like some naseous welp.''[b], to his credit Ein managed rather well not to outright scold the girl and keep his voice down. A gesture of his head would point her to lean her back against the unison of the short fence that barred the inside of the ferry from the waters and one of the wooden columns that held the roof-like cover over the boat. [b]''Tuck your head in and don't dwell on pointless shyke.''

More than likely the ferrymen wouldn't pay much atteintion. They had a job to get done and their time was likely going to be preoccupied with such, along with whatever banter they had to share amongst themselves. Four men were there to steer the boat, and excluding Ein and Zavya, nine passengers were on the boat as well. The ferry was carrying barely over half its capacity of people, leaving comfortable room for self-contained conversation, albeit a fellow sat opposite and to the side of the two, a somewhat short, older man, bulky, yet on the chubby side and reasonably well dressed, kept giving Einar a bemused look... And regardless of how Zavya behaved, this would soon enough draw a frown from the mercenary.

''Might I help you, sera?'', he gave his best, pretentious yet composed gruff voice, granted, he wasn't much of an actor, but then again it wasn't all too dificult alternating from a grumpy mercenary to an unsavory merchant... and he did look quite the fitting part to go either way at the time.

''A-apologies sir... Methinks you look familiar, only I cannot rightly place it...'', the man replied, distraught more so for being so openly confronted about his gawking than the attitude Ein had put forward.

''I don't know you, old man.'', Ein stated bluntly after measuring the bugger up a couple times... Yet second guessing was evident. They did meet before, yet neither could quite place it. ''...And I'd prefer to keep my acquaintances in this city to a minimum. You folk aren't fond of us outsiders... And I am but passing through.''

''...Of course, of course, apologies once again...'', the fellow seemed rather content to leave the conversation alone then and there, albeit he would still occasionally cast a glance Einar's way throughout the trip.

They would come upon the northern lakeshore with the only real incident being the severe length of boredom and tideous tension, stretching through four entire bells... Finally enough, Ein would instruct Zavya to burden up on their cargo, referring to her with a shoddy superior's disdain as ''Boy'' and ''Lad'' for as long as there were others who'd hear them... Once they took leave of the ferry with their supplies and equipment intact, it was time to head for the stables at the lakeshore outpost. Ein would of preferred to catch some sleep himself at the boat, yet stirred by nearly having to confront the bastard from whom they were supposedly fleeing, and agitated further by the odd curiosity of that one fat fellow from the boat who did seem eerily familiar, he worked up just enough anxiety to keep him awake and put him in a sour mood.

A stable hand saw them to Finnard's box stall and showed Einar to the place where they deposited the horse's gear... before being seen off with five coppers for his trouble. Once the two travellers were left alone with their beast of burden, however, Ein would come to struggle in no small quantity with his attemtps of fitting the pony up for hauling the supplies he was due to.

''Easy you daft sod...'', he grumbled as the pony kept reeling its head backwards from the muzzle meant for him... it would have taken a long chime, but Ein ultimately realized the issue... meanwhile keeping down the urge to start cussing profusely if not outright whacking the animal across the skull. His eyes would go to Zavya, then back to Finnard, and he would exhale long and hard, knowing that folly haste would serve to keep them all steadfast in their tracks... not moving anywere.

''She's not going to hurt you, alright?'', instead of fidgeting with the belts and buckles, Ein's right hand relaxed and went to glide along the side of the animal's neck. ''She's a right scare... aye... But she's a friend, alright?'', it was painfully evident Ein wasn't comfortable comforting others, let alone an animal, and especially not in front of onlookers... but he sure as death wasn't going to go about hauling all that bulk and steel through the woods on foot, trekking the city and just managing it from shore to stable was annoying enough... thankfully the horse seemed to just barely begin settling down... and its owner quieted down, petting the creature some and obviously debating on just how he ought to manage keeping predator and pray walking side by side without incident...

''Zavya... come convince this bugger you won't make supper of him, come on.'', he motioned for her to approach and give the pony a pat or two on the head. ''You two will need to get along, else we'll be another four days before making it anywhere with all this junk to carry.''

little filler words

[Zavya]

Four bells.

Zavya thought she might go mad with four bells of idleness. Every face around them was the face of a spy; every barely overheard whisper was a whisper that condemned her for the fraud she truly was. How could she be expected to just “tuck her head in and not dwell on pointless shyke” when every passenger aboard that craft had heard her master’s description? Even if she wasn’t travelling with Shiress and even if he’d described her as female… golden eyes and facial scars? It wasn’t that hard to get suspicious with such obvious factors.

Nonetheless, she did her best to do what Einar said, leaning back against the wood and closing her eyes. She shifted restlessly throughout the ride, sure she felt dozens of eyes on her, sizing her up and recognizing the escaped slave beneath the haphazard combat gear and ferocious expression. Paranoia was at an all-time high, her heart deafening in its intensity—the muscle beating just as hard as it had the entire time Ryker had spoken to the ferryman. Was this to be her life now? Constant anxiety and looking over her shoulder? She couldn’t help but wonder if it might be better just to give herself over. At best, she could hope for a quick death. Though knowing the Valdinox… somehow, she doubted that would be the case.

You can’t go down that road, Zavya. It’s too late for that now.

The Kelvic knew her inner voice was right. She’d made her choice, and now she had to deal with the consequences, however dire and terrifying they might be. The tigress had known exactly what it would mean when she’d turned the whip against Ryker. She’d known what would happen. And yet, she’d done it anyway, justifying that the end was worth the means. Shiress was safe. If she could go back and do it all again, she would. So here she was.

Just as she’d somewhat managed to calm herself down, the brief exchange happened between her companion and the passenger seated across from them. Molten eyes cracked up to flick between the two, a frown creasing her brow. Who was this now? Zavya did not like the thought of either one of them being recognized. She wanted no further contributors to her likelihood of capture. The odds were against her enough as it was.

However, the exchange passed without further incident, Einar gruffly telling the man he was mistaken. With the looks passing between the two, the tigress was not so sure that was true, but she was relieved to have the subject dropped, anyway. She hoped it stayed that way.

The rest of the trip passed in relative peace, the ferry pulling up to their destination with agonizing slowness. Zavya was on her feet before they even came to a stop, gathering up as much as she could of their gear and slinging it over her shoulders. The Kelvic gripped Einar’s hand briefly as they unloaded themselves from the boat, her eyes briefly catching and holding the man at the helm’s. A shadow of a frown seemed to cross his face, his mouth opening as if he might say something, but before he could, eye contact was broken and the tigress was stepping foot on the dock. The moment passed, and the ferry was gone—another shuddering sigh of relief parting the girl’s lips as they were lead away to the stables.

The delicious scent of horseflesh permeated the air, Zavya breathing it in with relish. She was practically salivating by the time they reached Finnard’s stall, the look on her face obviously making the hostler deeply uncomfortable. Had it been any other time, she might have laughed, but as it was, she did her best to school her expression back to neutrality. The last thing she needed was to appear animalistic or out of the ordinary; she doubted there were many humans that entered a stable and behaved as if a five-course meal had just been laid out in front of them. Though with these smells, how could they not…

Zavya kept a careful distance as they approached Einar’s shaggy grey pony, setting the gear she carried down outside of his stall. The tigress remained mindful of her companion’s warning not to spook his horse and did her best to appear nonthreatening, but there was nothing she could do to mask her own scent. It was as she’d told him before—human or no, the hunted always knows the hunter. In spite of his apparent wishes for them to get along, there was little that could be done to defy nature itself.

Several of the other horses in the barn were reacting in a very similar fashion to Finnard, whinnying and pawing the ground, while several even kicked at the doors to their stalls. The musky and wild scent of predator hung in the air, and those who would be prey knew it by instinct. It was making her as uneasy as it was making them, sure the stablehands would raise some sort of alarm as soon as they noticed how their charges were behaving.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Zavya replied to Einar, her voice mild while she kept a firm distance between herself and the nervous animal. “Pretty sure if I get any closer, he’ll be out of this building faster than either of us can blink.”

A large black stallion in the stall next to Finnard’s was eyeing her defiantly, snorting and tossing his mane in challenge. Before she could even think of what she was doing, she bared her teeth and hissed, the horse letting out an ear-shattering neigh in response and striking both front hooves against the wood. “Mother petcher,” she muttered under her breath and backed away as the hostler from before returned to see what the problem was.

“I think I’ll just wait outside,” she informed Einar with a nervous glance at the stable hand, who was doing his damnedest to bring the ebony horse back under control. Casting a mildly apologetic look in her warder’s direction, she slung one of the bags back over her arm and made for the exit before the horses staged a full-on revolt. That was about the last thing they needed.

Once she was back outside, Zavya let loose a deep breath and leaned against the side of the structure while she waited for Einar to finish gearing up the horse and join her. It was only a few chimes before he did so, the Kelvic looking over at him with a sheepish half-smile.

“So I know you said not to mention shifting again, but…” Clearing her throat, she indicated his saddled pony with a raised brow. “I’m sure you’ll believe me now when I tell you I can’t ride. It will be the easiest way for me to keep pace with you if I can use four legs. You said yourself you didn’t want to be an extra four days on the road.”