[Riverside Isle Park] Collision (Andalusia, Jean)

[Musca]

Timestamp: Spring 35th 512AV There was a pounding in her head- incessant and unending. It pulsed, striving for a kind of attention that it did not deserve as it hammered against the confines of her skull. But for all it's persistency, the Zith didn't mind at all. In fact, she had rather enjoyed it's almost euphoric effect; insomnia weaving a disjointed reality that made her a visiting stranger rather than a participant in the problematic enclosure of her life. Ah, life, such a trifle thing. Too full of anomalies to comprehend and yet too vivid to be given up. She was wandering alone again, losing herself in the streets of Sunberth without much care or heed in the direction. For why should she, when all she wanted was to waste some time? As much as she hated the sunlight, for it made her eyesight too weak, Musca was more than willing to dawdle if it meant she could avoid the adoration of her slave. Although she longed for the comfort of her cave, she couldn't bring herself to go back- not when she knew that the slave would still be there; waiting for his master to lay her claim on him again. And it paralysed her- the thought of gazing into the eyes that seemed to drown her with unflinching affection and loyalty. Musca pulled her cloak closer to her body, withdrawing her head further into her hood. No. She would wait for him to leave and find himself some obscure entertainment that would distance himself from her. A cowardly move, maybe, but a necessary one. As she shuffled halfheartedly along the crowd, swept by the energy and hustle, Musca was struck by how unfamiliar the city was when basked in the morning light. Gone were the sinister alleys that hid the secret sins of men and women, replaced by a friendly face or at least a decent one standing amiably close. The sheer amount of people overwhelmed her- surely the numbers of the day dwellers were doubled than the seedy inhabitants of the night! Although the layer of grime was still a persistent- slavers and muggers and dirt and stench- she would've never guessed that such a city would adapt a mask of almost friendliness to lure tourists in. But then again, maybe it was expected. After all, how would the scum survive without leeching onto the innocent and naive? "How indeed," the Zith murmured, letting her body be led by the crowd without much care. After all, anywhere, anywhere at all, would be better than the cave that alienated her. In front of her, a group of young women laughed and joked with one another, ignorant joy painted on their dumb faces. They looked so young and so foolish and so very fleeting. Watching them, jealousy jabbed her by the heart, poisoning her mind with venomous thoughts as she ridiculed the bonds between the girls. Foolish. They would soon turn to on each other anyway. Why bother playing nice? Idiotic. But for all her derision, the Zith could not help but follow them, tugged by their laughter and companionship that she knew she was not capable of keeping. She followed and followed, too absorbed to notice her surroundings and the growing suspicion of the group of girls who looked at her with fugitive glances that hinted of their trepidation. It was not until one of them hanged back from the crowd, acting the heroine of their little gang and looked at her straight into the eyes and tried to send a clear message without showing her fright. To some degree, it worked. Snapping out of her trance, Musca smiled disarmingly and waved at them dismissively- a last gesture of her jealous contempt. With a flourish, the Zith turned and started on her former aimless path, confusion growing steadily as she took in her new environment. Trees, hills, tasteless vistas, a clockwork bridge and an iron cage. Musca blinked, a frown beginning to show. She swung her head around, bewildered beyond comprehensible measure, trying to piece together her memory of an exit or an entrance. None. The Zith could only growl.

[Andalusia]

Andalusia sat underneath one of the few tall trees that peppered the park, absentmindedly stroking her Luvanor Grassland Hunter's head as it was perched upon her lap. Her beige-colored cape lay upon the trimmed grass, working much like a picnic blanket. Despite being in a relaxed atmosphere, she kept her arrow quiver strapped along her waist, her bow within grabbing distance, and her assassin's dagger kept inside the knife holster strapped around her right thigh. Even when equipped with such weapons, she looked calm and unsuspecting, her eyes half lidded, spending precious time with her dog, Dante.

But she wasn't just there to rest and bond with the canine, and whenever she'd remember the real reason she was present in the area, a mischevious grin would fight through the soft, pleasant smile on her face. She'd raise her gaze from time to time, looking left and right for her friend, Jean. The two had planned to meet up at the park and shoot some arrows at some trees, just for some good fun. The idea was silly, maybe even malicious, as it would disturb the visitors of the area, but it was surely going to be a great laugh. She chuckled at the memories they'd made when they first went out hunting - getting to know the auburn-haired girl was quite another thing she was very thankful of. She let out a contented sigh, her fingers massaging Dante's head and temples. The Luvanor had his tongue out, playfully pawing at the grass as Andalusia began to tickle and rub his belly. She'd been waiting a little longer than expected, but she didn't mind it one bit if Jean were late. The Riverside Isle Park was quite beautiful, a shocking contrast to the hopeless mess that was Sunberth. It must've taken from the magnificent expanse of wilderness that embraced the city.

[Jean]

It was later in the morning than usual when she awoke, stiff and splayed awkwardly on the ground in her tent. Jean lifted her head blearily, wiping a trail of drool from the corner of her mouth. She'd slept with her mouth open, and it'd left it dry and scratchy. A back arching stretch popped the bones up the length of her spine, blissfully loosening the stiffness. It made her moan, and she lay there a moment, staring at the ceiling of her tent. Then it hit her like a rock. I'm late! She struggled onto her knees and reached for her waterskin, taking a long swig to soothe her throat. The next chime was her dashing around the tent, quickly dressing and packing the bit of gear she'd need. Bow, arrows, mizas, a piece of dried venison, an apple, and her waterskin. Of all days, Jean had to sleep in today. She was supposed to meet Andalusia for some shooting practice in the Riverside Park. She cursed herself the whole time she got ready, and then as she stormed out of her tent. Lebanon raised her head expectantly, greeting her rider with a soft whicker. Jean had brought out a little grain, close to a pound, and set it out for the mare to eat. "I'll be back later, love. Don't break anything, and don't eat something that isn't yours." With that, she took off to the park at a light jog. She knew better now than to run flat out. Running wasn't her forte, so today she'd take her time. Even if she was going to be late, at least she'd get there soon. Sorry, Andalusia. I'm coming, she thought grimly, disappointed with herself. Just as Jean assumed, it didn't take her more than a few chimes to get to the park. Her breathing was a little labored, but keeping the run to a light jog had helped exponentially. She was barely sweating, and not very tired. The park was surprisingly beautiful despite that it was in Sunberth. There were quite a few trees - not many tall, more of a small and medium height, and several that were beautifully flowering. She breathed in the earthy, aromatic scent as she wandered into the depths of the park, looking this way and that for Andalusia. Jean noted a tree that seemed to have been struck by lightning. It was the gray husk of a trunk, slightly crooked, and missing several branches. Most of its top had been blasted off and charred to nothing. That remnants of the tree would make good target practice. She didn't want to shoot at any of the live trees, that would be cruel. Then she spotted Andalusia. Her face broke into a smile and she raised the arm that was holding her bow in a greeting. Her friend was scratching her hunting hound's stomach and hadn't noticed her yet, so she also called out, "Andalusia!" Jean lurched into a light jog again, kicking up some dust and closing the distance between them. "I'm so sorry I'm late. I slept in, and as soon as I woke up I came straight here. I don't know what got into me this morning, this never happens," she said, exasperated with herself. She flashed her friend an apologetic smile. "I hope you haven't been waiting too long," she added, leaning down to scratch behind one of Dante's ears.

[Andalusia]

Everything appeared as a distant blur as Andalusia's eyes focused upon her dog's playful expression. She giggled, happy to be sharing a sentimental moment between herself and the Luvanor. Dante flopped back onto his stomach, ears twitching as he found himself stricken by a familiar scent. Oblivious, Andalusia continued to tickle at the dog's sides, until she was met with the sound of her name being called out. "Andalusia!" the voice was none other than Jean's, of course, as she ran towards the raven-haired girl with an excited, relieved grin. "Hey," Andalusia replied softly, a warm smile gracing her features as Dante rose to his feet to greet auburn-haired woman.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. I slept in, and as soon as I woke up I came straight here. I don't know what got into me this morning, this never happens," she explained, flashing her an apologetic smile. "I hope you haven't been waiting too long,"vshe added as she leaned down to scratch behind one of Dante's ears. The canine yipped happily at the show of affection, bouncing up at the woman in excitement. "I-It's fine," Andalusia giggled as she spoke, grinning as she gave her friend an understanding nod. She got up from her place below the tree, picking up her cloak and dusting off whatever dirt that may have clung onto the fabric. Her sweet expression melted into a wry smirk as she turned to Jean once more, her eyes briefly scanning the area before speaking. "So, th-these arrows..." she began, chuckling to herself as she trailed off. Dante pawed at the ground on all fours, eager to dart around the park and run until he was parched, but he had to wait for his master to allow him to.

[Jean]

Dante lept up for attention, barking with his red tongue lolling. Jean scratched his cheeks affectionately, crooning sweet nonsense to him. Andalusia stood, voicing that everything was alright, much to her relief. She smiled mischievously, motioning for her friend to follow as she gave the hound one last pat on the head. "I found a perfect place for the... arrows." Her smile widened, showing off her teeth. She turned back the way she had come, easily finding the lightning tree again. It was a depressing sight, really, surrounded by all the lush greenery of the park. The old husk reminded her an arthritic old man, bent and shriveled from rheumatism. Jean stood a ways back from the old trunk, pointing toward it so Andalusia saw. "That's our target. Try not to hit any of the other trees, we don't want to hurt them." She looked closer, squinting her eyes. There were several bulging coils blemishing the burnt and rotten bark. "You see those knots? We'll try and shoot those specifically. That'll be a challenge. But of course just hitting that thing will be hard too - it's pretty slender." They were still pretty close, so she backed up a few more paces until she thought she was more of less 15 feet away - a good starting distance. Jean slipped an arrow from her quiver and nocked it, reposition her sweaty grip on her bow. She smiled sideways at Andalusia. A bird called from a branch overhead then a second responded from somewhere behind them. "You go first," she offered, nodding toward the tree.

[Musca]

There was no point in denying it, though her pride rebelled against the idea. She was lost; utterly and magnificently lost. Frankly, with the vague images of trees she had squinted, Musca was quite unsure she was still in Sunberth. She'd always presumed that within the city, greenery would just spontaneously combust just by taking in the rancid air and existing in the same space with the humans. Apparently not. Looking around venomously around the park, the Zith was half tempted to just use her wings and fly away back to safer grounds... but of course, there was always the issue of curious eyes and curiouser weapons that would follow her flight. She'd no doubt that with just a flash of leather wings, the simple minded dolts that wondered aimlessly around would gather and lead a hunt to kill her. Musca sniffed, the idea repulsing her. Zith died either in old age or in battle. Not in some poorly executed escape in... a park. To fully express her displeasure, the Zith snarled at the closest couple that had the misfortune to sit near her. Like petch would she let them be happy around her. Surprised and confused, the couple scrambled off each other, simpering slightly as they traversed to another bench far away from the woman. She gave them a venomous smile and a colder glare. In that moment, a flash of red hair blurred by the sunlight caught Musca's obscure eyesight, the strands dancing as they reflected the sharp light that bounced off it. She could not help but follow the little flame, straining her dark eyes at the effort. Without thinking, the Zith started following; curiously enraptured by the color. They led her to a shade under a tree with only dapples of sunlight streaming through the sparse amount of leaves. Musca let out a relieved sigh, her eyes taking time to adjust to the slight improvement. To her surprise, there was another woman beside her- a black haired woman that barely held the Zith's interest. In her mind, she might as well be part of the backdrop of the oddly placed park. The redhead was playing with arrows and bows. Musca blinked, her curiousity growing deeper by the chime as she indicated to the burnt tree ahead of them. A miserable target. Surely, they wouldn't... Musca grimaced, utterly perplexed. There were better targets to be had. Why settle for a charred tree? From behind then, the Zith stared at them with a puzzled frown. "An interesting target you've chosen there."

[Andalusia]

OOCMaking up for my lateness with a long post! I'm so sorry for the delay, I hope it's alright!

"Sounds like a plan," Andalusia snickered, unsheathing her bow and taking out an arrow from her quiver. As of now, the nineteen slender little rods all fit snugly in their quiver of wood and leather. She feared the day when she'd hear them bump and rattle against each other. She turned and faced the rotting tree, its bark fading from gray to black towards the top, strikingly resembling the night sky, folded into a tree mold, all wrinkly and covered in disgusting warts, coils and fungi. It was more like the witherng hand of an old woman, her frail fingers reaching up towards the heavens, her nails as dead as the few dried leaves that were left hanging, her bony palm reeking of age and death. Suddenly, a feeling of discomfort washed over Andalusia at the horrible thought. She shook her head vigorously, not realizing that Jean had been speaking to her once more. The auburn-haired woman had an arrow nocked, and had already paced backwards, smiling at her.

"That's our target. Try not to hit any of the other trees, we don't want to hurt them," Jean gestured over to the tree casually. Andalusia blushed in embarrassment, wondering if she had specifically mentioned what the target was before hand, and her inner musings had blocked it out. Nodding gingerly, she slowly made her way towards the young woman, her bow and arrow still in place. "You see those knots? We'll try and shoot those specifically. That'll be a challenge. But of course just hitting that thing will be hard too - it's pretty slender," she added, smiling kindly at the raven-haired girl. She must've noticed that she wasn't paying attention beforehand, and decided to repeat herself. Andalusia welled with happiness, returning her sentiment with a confident grin. She moved towards the proper stance as Jean encouraged her to go first. She zeroed in on a knot, and then prepared herself.

"Not too far apart," she noted, as she adjusted the distance between her knees. She had her torso and her feet placed perpendicular to the target, her face and neck turned towards it along with the bow and arrow. She held the bow steadily with her right hand, and had the arrow tail by her left. She stared at that one knot intently, as if calculating the amount of strength she'd need to reach it. Lightly, she held the arrow tail between her middle finger and forefinger, her arm parallel to the ground as she stretched the bowstring and prepared to shoot. "Eye on the prize," she mouthed, pulling the arrowtail until it touched her anchorpoint, right around the corner of her mouth. Her right eye stared at the large knot, busting with a certain pus that could be nothing else but the decaying tree sap, mercilessly trapped in the swells of the daunting tree. She held her breath, and released her hold on the arrow, and off it went, whizzing towards the knot, hitting its side and causing the stinky pus burst in a disgustingly thick, yellowish heap on the grass. Thankfully, from their distance, not a drop had splattered.

"Good enough, I-I need work," she chuckled, gesturing towards her arms. At a glance, they looked ordinary, but upon closer inspection, they were slightly shivering. "N-Not that steady yet, b-but I think, I think I've g-got the stance," she giggled, pointing her open palm over towards the tree for Jean to take her turn. But then a voice, low and sultry, and undoubtedly feminine, disturbed their silence. "An interesting target you've chosen there," the voice said. Andalusia spun around gently, only to come face to face with a pouting female Zith. Despite her little frown, she exuded seduction and attractiveness, as well as intimidation. Andalusia found the sun in her eyes as shhe gazed at the gray-skinned woman, her eyes squinting to focus upon her features as she attempted to speak. Her entire appearance was rather alluring, but also unsettling. Andalusia's grip on her bow tightened for a moment, wondering if the woman was safe to interact with or not. "H-Hello," she quipped, managing a small, shy little smile, "y-yes, we're just practicing, at the m-moment."

[Jean]

Andalusia's stance, once again, was a learning experience for Jean. She watched her friend anchor her shot and position her body. It was different than how she did, but probably for the better. Her friend was the more experienced marksman. She even held the bow a little different. Jean examined that most of all. Her fingers were more relaxed and positioned another way than she herself held them. She'd try it that way next time. The arrow was released and hit home, right into the side of one of the knots. She was startled to see an arc of yellow, putrid puss explode around the arrowhead. Her lip curled as it splashed onto the ground. Andalusia automatically started discrediting herself, making Jean smile. Her eyes shone with amusement. "Well you're much better than me. Don't even expect my arrow to hit a knot. Anything smaller than a rabbit and I might as well just shoot up in the air and hope for it to hit the target," she jested good naturedly. Her friend really wasn't giving herself enough credit. As she was about to pull the string of her bow, a woman's voice interrupted. Andalusia turned much casually than she did - Jean spun on her heel, tense and gripping her bow like a lifeline, afraid it was someone going to hark on them for shooting at the tree in a public place. Zith. The word hammered into her mind as her eyes narrowed against the sun. The luscious stranger was covered in very fine fur, which was the dead giveaway. She'd never met one, but had read things and heard stories. Andalusia was docile as usual, speaking kindly and even smiling. Jean's mouth was set in a hostile line and her eyes were flinty. She tried not to be prejudiced, but there were just so many stories, and they were hard to ignore. "Yes, we are practicing. Do you need something?" she barked, not meaning to sound so harsh and standoffish. She had wanted to sound indifferent so her suspicions weren't floating right at the surface. Too late now. Jean cursed herself mentally. Petching smooth, she thought bitterly.