Lost and Alone - 16th, Spring 510 [open]

[Sefra]

Sefra Snowborn was not having a good evening. Indeed, this was perhaps the worst evening she’d had for a long time.

The sun hovered barely two finger-widths above the horizon, casting a deep red glow on everything which could well have been the outward expression of Sefra’s mood. Three bells ago, when the sun was still bright, clear, and not about to dive below the earth, she had not been alone. Three bells ago, she’d been with her cousin, Kavinal Brighttail, who had both horses, the hunting dog, and the bows. They’d been hunting, she on the ground about to pick up a varmint, when a glassbeak came out of nowhere and pounced their dog. Shamefully, Sefra panicked and ran as fast and as far as she could, praying to every deity she could think of to make the dog a lengthy and filling enough meal for her to reach safety.

Her prayer, it seemed, had been answered. However, she was now alone and without any weapons save a simple knife for cutting food and had no idea if her cousin was alive or not. She also wasn’t entirely sure where she was, a simple fact compounded by her not being able to use the web on her own and how far she had ridden from her pavilion before the attack.

Sefra swore loudly at the breeze that sent ripples through the waist-high grass. It would be dark very soon and the temperature was liable to drop significantly, what with it still being early in spring. She needed to find a place where she could hunker down, build a fire, and keep warm. Finding her pavilion would have to wait for tomorrow.

Moving quickly now, she located a small bush with some sticks suitable for maintaining a fire. On the side of the bush away from the wind, as if a bush was much protection, she cleared some grass and dug a small indent, around which she banked dirt and rocks. Then, using her flint and steel (the only useful thing she’d had in her backpack at the time), she lit some of the grass she’d pulled and threw the sticks on top. The resulting fire was less than meager, but she was grateful for even that small amount of heat and huddled close, keeping one ear open and an eye on her surroundings.


[This is my first IC post on Mizahar ^.^;;]

[Raithe]

Another day in the sea that was not a sea.

Raithe was having trouble integrating back into society. The gaps in his memories seemed to expand by the day, each and every time Raithe did something he realized he should have no knowledge of. Not as a man who couldn't remember his mother's face. He knew, with an inexplicable intimacy, the ways of the blade. He knew, too, the ways of war and how best to move men over different types of terrain.

So, and this he was certain, he had a violent past. But why should those memories have remained, and naught else? He could not even be certain Raithe Garrdel was his true name, except that Shadana told him that his friends had told her so. And who were they? Where had they gone? Why hadn't they come back for him? To these questions, his caretaker had no answer. In fact, Shadana could answer him very little, and Raithe was beginning to suspect the woman was only playing ignorant.

It made him angry.

Practicing his forms in the dying sunlight, Raithe realized it was doing little to alleviate his stress, and each stroke of the sword only became more violent, more crude. He had to stop. His suspicions were just that, suspicions, and he would not storm back to Riverfall to threaten the single soul who had tended to his injured frame when he could have just as easily been dumped into a ditch. Sheathing his weapon, Raithe wiped the sweat from his brow, and gazed towards the setting sun.

It was well past time he return to his camp for the evening. It was a secluded spot, more or less, that would keep larger predators at bay if any might be lurking near. In the Sea of Grass, however, predators were always lurking near. Still, Raithe took comfort in knowing that no Glassbeak would tear out his entrails as he slept that night.

Some, oh, probably a great many, actually, would call him crazy. Suicidal. No man in their right mind would willingly camp within these grasslands. Without the safety of a Drykas pavilion, or the confines of Riverfall, one was placing themselves at great risk. Raithe, however, had no desire to get himself killed – at least, he didn't believe that he did. But the mind, as he was coming to understand, was a thing not to be understood.

During his short trek (he had not wanted to venture far) back towards his tent, the pale man spied the tell-tale signs of a fire. Smoke, and, of course, the orange light the fire cast off. It was no wildfire, that was for certain, and so Raithe deduced that another was camping in these parts. Still, that was no reason to believe they would be friendly.

Moving cautiously through the tall grass, Raithe called out towards the huddled figure near the fire. There was no way he could pass by without being seen, and so he had figured to make contact. A man he could fight, and have a chance against. Life was all about calculated risks, was it not?

“Greetings,” came his voice, of a deep timbre, but pitched softly so as not to sound aggressive. He wasn't sure what else to say. Did he want their company? Would they even want his? If anything, two were better than one, should nature's cycle push and shove to test the strong. “I mean no harm,” he ended with, though he felt awkward.

[Sefra]

It hadn’t taken very long for Sefra’s watchfulness to lapse into distracting thought. She kept wondering what happened to her cousin, how she would find her pavilion, if they would be able to find her tomorrow before they were supposed to break camp to go to Endrykas. Worst of all, she kept imagining what would happen if another glassbeak showed up. Indeed, she was so preoccupied by her macabre thoughts of being mutilated that the last thing she was thinking about was how to react to a man finding her.

“Greetings,” came a deep voice. Sefra, who’d been crouched on her feet, jolted so sharply that she fell over almost before the man could add, “I mean no harm.”

Sefra scrambled to her feet, gracelessly turning a circle while she caught her balance before she faced the man straight on. Finally with her feet planted securely underneath her, she could answer.

“Where did you come from?!” She demanded in an unusually shrill (for her) voice. As soon as she said it, she knew she was not comporting herself in any manner that would reflect well on her or her pavilion. For the second time that evening, she burned with shame. An internal dialogue immediately began wherein she was both scolding herself and trying to justify her reaction (“He snuck up on me!” “You’re acting like a scared child!” “I thought he was a glassbeak!” “If you’d been paying attention to your surroundings, you’d have known he was not!”). Thankful that the deepening darkness would conceal her reddening face, she forced herself to relax her posture.

“Er—What business have you in the Sea of Grass?” She asked in a more level and smooth voice. She still did not sound precisely warm and welcoming, nor was her posture completely as if she were talking to an old friend; with her composure again under tight control, she seemed poised and cautious, though not aggressive or even especially standoff-ish.

[Raithe]

Women.

Raithe had no recognized that Sefra had been a female, as he had approached with her back facing him. Maybe his assumption was a sexist one, but he hadn't thought to find a lone woman out in the Sea of Grass in the coming nightfall. As Sefra stood up and spoon around to face him, Raithe was able to see that she was Drykas. It was more her clothing that gave it away, as it was a style of dress uncommon amongst the Akalak.

He did not begrudge Sefra her immediate alarm, anyone had a right to be more than a bit edgy when traveling these parts. Taking a few steps nearer to her fire, so that it might light up his features better, Raithe extended both his arms, angled slightly downwards, with the palms up. It was for her benefit that he did so, to show once more than he did not come with any malicious intent. The shadows around her face were still deep, though, and so Raithe was still fairly unable to make out her particular features.

“Where? From behind you.” The pale man said it so very plainly, and with a straight face, that poor Sefra would have no way to tell if he were joking, or really being serious. The dancing light of the fire reflected brilliantly within his eyes, but offered no clues otherwise. If she had expected a more legitimate answer, then Sefra would be sorely let down. None was forthcoming.

To perhaps make matters a bit worse, his next reply was no better, “Why- ” he canted his head slightly to the side, his expression now curious. “Do they post people like you out here every night, to keep track of who comes and goes across these plains? Very well, then, got your quill ready?” In the back of his mind, Raithe wondered at his vitriol. He wasn't trying to make enemies.

“I'm here to offer you better shelter than this,” he said bluntly. “But in general, I have absolutely no reason to be here, otherwise. I just am, and so it is.” Shrugging his shoulders, Raithe crossed his arms and leaned back on one heel as he awaited her response. The pose was not just strikingly arrogant, it belonged to that of a skilled swordsman. One could find them in any land, any culture, in a stance that somehow seemed to say: In this human food chain, I am your apex predator.

[Sefra]

The man took a couple steps forward until the light of Sefra’s tiny fire revealed more detail of his face and dress. He was plainly human, though his pallor seemed a little off in the firelight. His clothes were simple, but decidedly not in the style of the Drykas. He held his palms out to show their emptiness as he came nearer.

“Where?” The man repeated evenly.”From behind you.” His was tone was so flat, so without expression of any kind, that all Sefra could do with any certainty was blink her eyes and feel taken aback. “Why do they post people like you out here every night, to keep track of who comes and goes across these plains? Very well, then, got your quill ready?” Sefra was a little confused, now. She certainly didn’t think she looked like a sentry, and in any case there wasn’t that strong of a need for sentries, what with the predators, the terrain itself, and the Web. Before she could sort this out, the man went on.

“I'm here to offer you better shelter than this,” he said. “But in general, I have absolutely no reason to be here, otherwise. I just am, and so it is.”As before, his speech was plain, blunt, and without much expression. As her wits returned to her, Sefra decided she found this slightly grating in the circumstances, but the offer of shelter and –obviously—armed company made such minor annoyances quite insignificant.

Sefra considered the man carefully. He had struck something of a pose that spoke of confidence and long practice in facing people physically. It was simultaneously cautioning and comforting; she had the distinct feeling that if this man were not truthful in his assertions of meaning no harm, she would be in quite a lot of trouble, but if he were sincere…

“Alright, stranger,” she finally said with a small gust of bravado she hadn’t fully intended which betrayed her insecurity with her decision to go with him. “My name is Sefra Snowborn of the Diamond Clan. Tell me your name, let me put out this fire, and I will accept your offer.”

She stepped around the fire so that it was between them, fully illuminating her face for the first time since she fell over, and started kicking dirt onto the flame until it sputtered and finally suffocated. Now with only the pale light of the rising moon to light the world around, Sefra looked up at the stranger and waited for him to lead the way—or attack her.

[Raithe]

There would be very few who did not agree with Sefra's sentiments towards Raithe's manner of speech. He was blunt, and lacking in emotion in many cases, which oftentimes made even sincere statements sound false and mechanical. Given time, a person might come to learn that this was simply his nature, and either accept or reject it as the case may be. But perhaps, just perhaps, this was only a temporary effect induced by his amnesia. Raithe himself hadn't the answers, since he had, obviously, no idea if he had been this way previously or not. Time would tell.

Or it wouldn't.

As Sefra stepped closer into the firelight, Raithe was at last able to make out the features of her face. He wasted no time in giving Sefra's visage an analytical once-over, deep blue eyes moving rapidly about in their sockets. It was nothing more than the look any other person would give to another when meeting for the first time, and not some kind of leer that those of the female persuasion so disliked. Still, Raithe would be unable to deny that the woman was pretty.

“Raithe Garrdel,” he said while crossing both arms over his chest in a diagonal manner, each of his fists thumping solidly on either shoulder. He didn't know where the gesture came from, and his bafflement would have been plain to see if only Sefra hadn't turned to put out her fire. For that, Raithe was thankful. Quickly, perhaps almost brutally, he shoved his confusion and personal intrigue away. Now was not the time.

When she faced him once again, Raithe motioned with his left hand towards the west. “My camp is not far from here, actually.” Had Sefra arrived at a latter time, rather than before him, she would have surely been able to notice his own fire. “I think it must have been used by your people before,” he offered, for her benefit. “It's more secluded than many places out here.” Raithe himself had used several old campsites recently, some plainly fresh while others looked not to have been visited in months.

The sword at his hip was not drawn, nor did the pale man rush her the moment her back was turned in an attempt to take advantage of her, murder her, or both. If he had plans for something vile, then surely he would have enacted them by now. Instead, Sefra would be able to breathe a sigh of relief as Raithe led the way to where he had sent up his tent earlier that day. It was a luxury he could afford, given the spot he'd chosen, but Raithe would make sure nothing had invited itself inside all the same.

[Sefra]

Keeping a few paces between herself and Raithe Garrdel, Sefra followed in a slightly uncomfortable silence. Her mind was buzzing, considering all the possible outcomes of following this stranger to his camp—did he have only one small tent, or was it large with interior walls? Were there others with him? If something did happen, which was the best direction for her to run?

While she considered these, she also more closely studied her new companion. He definitely had the bearing of one who knew how to use the scimitar hanging from his hip. He was also most of a head taller than she. Sefra got the impression that even if she had a sword with her, she would be ill prepared to fight this man. She decided right there that she should try to be friendly.

True to his word, Raithe’s encampment was not very far from where she’d been. She was somewhat pleased to find that his tent was fairly large and was hopeful that he would have divider walls inside. Friendly though she might try to be, her home pavilion was structured internally much like a house, thus Sefra was accustomed to a fair degree of privacy. The thought of a warm bedroll or even an extra cloak to curl up in was horridly tempting, however. She realized that the night had gotten to be cold enough that she occasionally had to fight down a shiver, and she pulled her cloak tighter around herself.

She had the same thought as Raithe, however, and did not immediately run towards the tent for fear of a nasty beast exploring the inside. Instead, she stopped and listened for anything less ordinary than the grass swishing in the strengthening breeze.

Hearing nothing, she looked to Raithe to see what he would do. The angle of the moon when she turned her head made the light catch her blue left eye while leaving her brown right eye in shadow, accentuating the difference dramatically. It was the one feature that, more than any other, had marked her as being different. It wasn’t generally something she thought about, but whenever it did come to mind, she felt that she may have liked the uniqueness of the feature if the people around her didn’t always immediately associate it with her being only half Drykas.

[This post feels very empty to me, and I apologize if it seems that way to you, also… I had a physics test today and my brain is pretty wiped XP ]

[Raithe]

If Sefra was hoping that Raithe would be a gentleman mindful of her needs for privacy and solitude, then this would be the time she found herself sadly mistaken. After he had checked the tent, and scoured the area to be sure that there were no critters or otherwise around, Raithe knelt down to the ring of stones he had set up earlier in the day. A few quick strikes against his flint and steel had a small fire hungering after tinder in no time. The orange light cast Raithe's pale features in a harsh manner, though he seemed unaware of the fact.

“Dinner will be meager, if you've not eaten already,” he said as rummaged about in his pack. A single hare was removed, which he held by the ears and offered Sefra something of a shrug. He had no idea he'd be having company. Not waiting for her to reply, he set to skinning the animal, which didn't take long.

When the hare was sufficiently prepared to cook, Raithe strung it over the fire. There were no herbs or spices to season it, but he was confident it'd taste just fine so long as he didn't overcook it. He continued to work almost as if he really were alone, never saying much to Sefra. Eventually, however, she would be offered a cup of pungent herbal tea, and some rabbit if she so desired. If Sefra declined? Well...then Raithe had no problem eating in front of her anyway.

“The tea is good for you,” he said after swallowing. “Tastes awful, but so do most things that are meant to be healthy.” It was too dark to tell whether or not the liquid was any other color other than black, but it was strangely thick with a grassy flavor that faded with just the faintest aftertaste of something sweet.

Raithe sat before the fire comfortably, staring into the fire. If Sefra was paying him any sort of attention, she'd realize that the pale man was lost in thought. Finally, he sat a little straighter, and blinked. Pushing himself to his feet, he started to clean up – never once asking Sefra for help. In short order, any traces of the meal that he had prepared would be nigh invisible. Raithe left the fire be, though.

“My tent is large, but I don't have a bedroll for you.” Raithe hoped that she had her own, given the way he had come upon her. He really didn't want to give up his own for her comfort. Call it selfish, but he saw no reason to have to suffer because of her misfortune. Besides, hadn't he been hospitable enough already?

His brows knitted together. Raithe had come to the realization that he'd done little to make her feel at all welcome. It hadn't been on purpose. Not really. Cocking his head to the right, he looked as if he had come to a decision of some sort.

“Sefra Snowborn, of the Diamond Clan, just why are you out here alone?” Raithe's circumstances were a bit extreme, but he felt if he were to explain them to her, she would understand. However, he could see no reason why she should not be with her clan...Then again, he knew very little about the Drykas culture. Still, if she was on some sort of path to prove herself, Raithe did not believe that she would have accepted his offer.

[Sefra]

Sefra sat down in silence while Raithe started the fire. The man seemed very quiet and self-reliant, and maybe just a little stand off-ish. Sefra wouldn’t complain, even to herself, though. Even if he did give the impression of preferring solitude, he was kind enough to offer her shelter—and even food, she was happy to see as Raithe held up the dead hare. She opened her mouth to offer to help, but Raithe had already set to skinning the animal and almost seemed to forget she was even there while he worked.

The smell of cooking meat set Sefra’s belly abuzz. She realized that she would not have been eating anything at all if Raithe hadn’t shown up; she had no weapons, no traps, and not enough experience or materials to improvise for the purpose of feeding herself. When the rabbit was finished, she gratefully accepted the tea and bit of rabbit with quiet “thank you”s.

She tasted the tea first, and had to agree with Raithe: it was nasty stuff. It reminded her of the way the treats they gave to their horses smelled. Even still, with the rabbit clearly not sufficient to fill her belly, she drained the cup of the thick liquid fairly quickly with the hope that it would make her feel full long enough to fall asleep.

Raithe didn’t seem to care or even notice how quickly she drank the stuff—he was just staring off into space. The feeling that he would have preferred to be alone tonight was reinforced and Sefra had the faintest sensation of guilt that was quickly crushed by the nature of her previous situation. Even his statement that he did not have a spare bedroll after he suddenly stood and cleaned up did not make Sefra feel at all unfortunate. She was raised by Drykas, the people whose lives were built upon the necessities of the moment; she could sleep uncovered on the ground if she had to. Inside a tent, she would still be warmer than she would have been.

She still had to admit that her hopes were (slightly) crushed.

“Sefra Snowborn, of the Diamond Clan, just why are you out here alone?” Raithe asked unexpectedly. They’d been sitting in near silence for the last hour or more, and now suddenly he was interested in her circumstances? The surprise took several seconds to leave her face.

“A bit of a hunting accident,” Sefra answered after a moment. Her eyes slowly travelled from Raithe’s face to the fire before her. “My cousin and I were on a hunt and we had just killed a rabbit. I got off my horse to put it in a bag and a Glassbeak appeared. It took our hunting dog, but I ran away. I don’t even know if my cousin got away.” Her voice trembled slightly at the end and she clenched her right hand into a fist, her left unconsciously pulling grass blades up by the roots. “I shouldn’t have run like that,” she murmured, more to herself now. Her gaze had become vacant as she stared at the fire. Her expression was in some sort of limbo between scared, angry, and sad; her jaw was clenched, her lips pressed tight together, and her eyebrows drawn. She didn’t say anything more; the only sounds were the snaps and cracks of the fire and the grass being ripped out of the ground.