Tell Me a Story [Open]

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

What was he doing up here? Surely the man had to be joking with him; Keeping an eye on you. He answered silently to himself as he continued to watch the man’s actions. Was he really that aloof to what was going on around him? His actions didn’t make sense…especially asking what he was doing atop a dune with a longbow aimed at him. Serrif figured that much would be evident. Either the man didn’t see him as a threat, he was insane, or he really was as aloof as he appeared. Each circumstance posed to be very interesting to Serrif.

He was urged to wait, it wasn’t like he was just going to fire on anyone for no reason. But Ishara’s raised hand eased his mind somewhat indicating that the man hadn’t hurt her…he did seem relatively harmless. But relatively was a funny term, it didn’t mean he was harmless. So for now he eased the tension on the bowstring and held the bow horizontal to the ground his right hand still holding the arrow knocked in the bowstring. He could draw it back up and place an arrow on the man if need be.

Kelvic! He had met a Kelvic once, a small girl that was a bat of some kind in her animal form. That explains it a little better. The Kelvic girl he had met seemed to have no understanding for the culture she was in. And maybe this man had no idea as well. When she changed forms she was nude, just like this man…maybe Serrif had jumped to conclusions. But in the very least he hadn’t pegged an arrow into anyone…yet…this time.

A slight smile came across Serrif’s face as he started to realize what was going on here…Ishara had no clue that this man didn’t understand the standard rules of society. He was an animal inn human form…simplistic in nature. Why would he need to wear clothing when he was nude all the time in his animal form? The question made sense to Serrif.

The arrow found itself being placed gently back in the climbers quiver as he made his way down to the camp from atop the dune. Still sporting that Cheshire smile, seemed this was a joke of kinds being played at Ishara’s expense. A harmless one…this time.

“I believe he is.” Serrif stated drawing closer to the two.

Being around a nude man didn’t make him as uncomfortable as it likely made Ishara. After all in the slave camp many of the men were kept this way until the winter came around…to the slavers every one of them was an animal. But this man was an animal and a man. He shook his head slightly side to side almost in disbelief.

“In the future it is best practice that you wear clothing while in this form.” He said offering some advice as he grew a little more composed; he was not at ease...not yet. But it would appear that he was.

[Ishara Dossari]

Disbelief colored Ishara's expression, then dawning realization as Serriff descended towards her meager camp, his words confirming her suspicions. Her gaze was traded between the two, and a hint of embarassment flushed her cheeks. Silly girl, she chided herself, dusting the sand from her legs and backside a bit self-consciously. All this nonsense over a naked man by her campfire... Not that it was a common occurance. For that matter, it hadn't been an occurance ever. Ducking her head to hide her burning cheeks, she dropped the stick she'd wielded back on her small wood pile. "Well, yes..." Serriff's words further emphasized the fact that a naked man was standing mere yards away, "clothing is...well, it is necessary, when in public. Or in the company of others. I mean, those others not accustomed to you...to your..." Ishara's eyes swept to Serriff for help with what she was trying to say...and the cheshire grin he sported showed plainly what he thought of the situation. She was torn between indignant anger and laughter, as the whole absurd scenario replayed itself over in the back of her mind. As the emotional impulses battled for dominance, the adrenaline drained from her system, and suddenly Ishara was tired. Her shoulders sagged, she expelled a deep breath, and crouched there on the sand. Combing her dark hair back from her face, she sat there for the span of several heartbeats, holding her head. Vaguely, she was aware of a stinging sensation on her right leg...probably a small abrasion from tumbling over the wood pile in her hasty retreat. Raj nudged her arm once for reassurance, transferring a look that could only be described as admonishing in the ferret-man's direction. A spicy scent permeated the air, and as it registered Ishara shot up off the sand with a very uncharacteristic curse and made a beeline for the fire. Dinner was beyond done, possibly burning. Using her scarf to cover her hand, she moved the pot from the coals and set it aside. Still avoiding eye contact with either of them, she raised the pot's lid and seemed satisfied with what lay within... "Dinner is ready."

[Dex]

oocSo sorry for the long wait. Real Life decided to butt in for a few days. John watched as the first big person scrabbled around a bit, threw up a hand at the big person on the sand, and asked if he was a kelvic. "Of course I'm a kelvic. What else would I be?" The person on the sand dunes walked forward into the light, showing a human with a bow sliding slowly down the sand dune toward the camp. He made a comment about him being a kelvic and that he ought to wear clothes. "I didn't have any." He said it simply, and watched as the first big person, whose name he ought to know soon, checked the funny smelling pot over the fire and said dinner was ready. "Dinner is the thing with odd smells?" John kneeled down in the sand, sniffing at it as she prepared a few things with it.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

He could tell that Ishara was a little mixed in her expressions, and who wouldn’t be after a nude man flashed into your camp only for you to find out he was a Kelvic, and that you brought him here. They would have a good laugh about this later; but likely not now. Maybe one day when they were training or something she would bring it up and laugh. It was possible. The man’s bewilderment puzzled him, the only other Kelvic he had ever seen was a mute one. Her emotions seemed rather…primal. He always wondered what she would say if she could speak. And hearing this man helped him understand her a little better than before.

Simplicity, it was interesting how simple and honest his every word and emotion seemed to be. He was curious almost like a child of some kind. He didn’t see how he had harmed anything and almost certainly didn’t see any reason for anyone to be alarmed. In a way if Serrif had known that the man was a Kelvic he never would’ve drawn down on him with his bow. But the man seemed to have no real awareness for how dangerous the situation had become. But again he was simple.

“Not accustomed to your body when you are in this form.” He said completing Ishara’s train of thought nicely as she looked up to him to help her piece together something that made sense to tell his man he needed clothing badly. "If you don't have any you should get some if you intend on interacting with people again. Others may not be as understanding as we are."

His attention briefly turned to Ishara, she had tumbled over the firewood and had likely hurt herself to some extent in doing so. He could aid her but only with her permission. He noted she started to favor her right leg a little. Not a much to indicate a break, but when she moved it he noted that she would emotionally display a small amount of pain.

Gently he placed one of his large hands on her shoulder as she crouched over her pot and moved it from the coals setting it aside. It was uncharacteristic of her to rush to do anything…but burning dinner was indeed a cause for alarm. He gently squeezed her shoulder for reassurance that it was all ok, and as an apology for his earlier behavior in being insensitive to her. He knew she likely didn’t find this funny at all.

“Do you need a little assistance with your leg?” He asked offering of course his ability of a healer openly and freely to her.

[Ishara Dossari]

Ishara started as a hand dropped to her shoulder, and turned to frown upon Serriff. Her glacial eyes narrowed on him briefly, until...until his words of concern melted her frigid resolve. She sighed and dropped her gaze to his feet, too weary to fuel anymore anger. He was here to help her. "I...I think it is just a scratch," she murmured, gesturing to the previously mentioned leg. Raj had settled in a grumbling crouch on her other side, amber eyes intent on Serriff's hand as it continued to swallow her shoulder. Ishara reached out to quiet the hound, placating him with a gentle nudge...and Raj grudgingly slunk a few paces off. "Hey..." and it was then that Ishara realized she had no name for the Kelvic. He was currently poking around the pot of spiced rices and vegetables that was steaming off to one side, probably hungry. She spooned some into her small wooden bowl, and offered it to him, her eyes affixed to the sandy earth that stretched between them. He was still lacking garments, and as a result Ishara was still too embarassed to meet him eye-to-eye. "I...don't know your name." As she drew back and winced, the weight of Serriff's gaze on her grew heavier than the weight of his hand from before, and Ishara sighed in defeat. "Ok. Here." Glancing up at him with that familiar half-smile of hers, she sat back and pulled up the leg of her breeches, the raw abrasion glistening on the golden skin of her calf. Ok...possibly a bit more than a scratch.

[Dex]

John shrugged as the man came down, carrying an odd piece of wood a with a string on it, and a second piece of wood somehow connected to them. He'd heard it called a bow, and was used as a weapon for fighting. How, he really had no idea, except maybe to beat people over the head with. If that was it's purpose, it really was a pathetic choice. A rock would be much easier. "Call me whatever. I don't care about names for myself. But what are yours?" After smelling through the pot called "dinner", the big person number one dished out a some into a bowl, and handed it to him, to which he took and started poking through, eating some of it, smelling others. "And I meant I didn't have any clothes with me right now. They're hard to carry. I have some back at my den though." John still didn't have any idea what the big deal was about clothes and nakedness. Everyone was naked under their clothes, or feathers, or fur, or whatever. Maybe that's why people had clothes, because they didn't have feathers or fur. Still seemed silly to him. Big person number two had walked over to big person number one, and they talked about her leg and a scratch. "I told you, you shouldn't stumble backwards like that. You'll get hurt." After watching them intently for a moment, wondering what they were going to do about it, he watched as big person number one pulled the leg of the pants up and showed a rough spot where it got scraped. Curious as to what they were going to do about it, John just sat and watched.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

If there was anything for sure about Ishara it was her stubbornness; but she was a good person and had her mind about her so she would let him help her…even if she was really a little cross with him. When she said it was only a scratch though he gave her a look of slight disbelief, she should know better than to lie to a healer. Because he knew how the body reacted to wounds quite well. He would fix two problems right now, and he would start with the problem that was right here with them.

“Here…let us settle this for the time being.” Serrif said as he stripped the shirt from his body. Underneath it was a pure white bodysuit, it was re-enforced in places with leather but overall it was like wearing a glove…one that he had gotten used to.

Yes, with the shirt off the night bit at him a little more viciously than normal. But he was used to cold; to suffering a little. So giving up his outer layer really wouldn’t bother him that much. Just as long as he stayed relatively close to the fire. “Take this and…” He undid his belt and handed the man his simple white cotton pants “and these as well.”

He was now wearing a simple white bodysuit, it wasn’t very thick, but it covered him completely neck to ankle. There were some belts here and there to help tighten it to his form and a few re-enforced areas at the elbows knees and such. In all it was clothing, more than the Kelvic was wearing only a few moments ago and it also dealt with the man not wearing any clothing at all. It was likely rather big for the man being that Serrif was over six feet tall, but clothing was clothing.

“Now onto you.” Serrif said turning his attention to Ishara. She had lifted up her breeches on her one leg and he saw the glistening raw abrasion there. Even with herbal remedies this would’ve been an easy fix. And with Rak’keli’s grace it would be even easier.

“A scratch?” He said with a sly smile that mirrored hers. There was an understanding between them that she was sometimes a very headstrong woman.; however when it came to healing and medicines he often knew best.

“Well…let me see what I can do about this.” He knelt beside her his knees in the sand as he leaned to the side some to see it better.

She had agitated her skin a good amount falling over the wood pile. It had to hurt and he could do more than just simply ease the pain; he could heal it. He closed his eyes and began to meditate. He found doing this often helped him channel Rak’keli’s gift more effectively. Concentrating on what he wanted to do his mind began to visualize what he wanted to happen, how channeled through him Rak’keli’s gift would heal her wound. His breathing steadied, and his mind cleared. It was in this state that he sent up a silent prayer to Rak’keli and thanked her for the gift of healing.

He opened his eyes, calm and serene. The mark on the inside of his right forearm began to glow a very distinctive opalescent color; in the night this was even more apparent. He could feel the warmth of the gift pulsing, the soothing feeling flowing through him. His eyes connected with Ishara’s and he asked her gently.

“There will be no pain. May I?” He was asking her to experience something surreal, a gift granted by a Goddess to a mere mortal man; a gift he wanted to use on her…Rak’keli’s mark of healing.

[Ishara Dossari]

Ishara's eyes quite nearly bugged right out of her head as Serriff reached up an began to disrobe. Before she could even register the white bodysuit beneath his clothing, her cheeks ignited and her eyes dropped to the sand at her feet. Surely he was not...! She sneaked another glance. As the bodysuit beneath his clothing was recognized for what it was, Ishara had a brief moment of disappointment. Before she could linger about that particular thought much longer, she dropped her eyes to the sand once more, furious with herself...for reasons she could not explain. Serriff handed the clothing off to the Kelvic, and Ishara silently hoped he would take them. The sooner he got dressed, the sooner Ishara could relax. When the healer's attention was transferred to her, Ishara could feel the weight of his gaze. His teasing remark stirred the coals, and she snapped back at him... "Yes. A scratch." Her frown was stubborn, and the way she pinched the fabric of her pant leg between her fingers suggested the presence of a strong debate bouncing around her skull. But her eyes had calmed to still pools of cerulean. As he knelt beside her, she flinched. She felt more than saw him go still. Several heartbeats passed in what seemed like several hours, and Ishara's curiosity began attacking the walls of her resolve. It wasn't until his arm began glowing that Ishara couldn't stand not to look over at him any longer. It was that mark--...Ishara's frown vanished, replaced by a look of wonder. Herbs? Tinctures? Poultices? All of those she'd expected. This? This was not at all what she'd expected... "There will be no pain. May I?" Not trusting her voice, Ishara nodded.

[Dex]

John shrugged as Serrif took off and then passed the clothes to him, apparently for him to wear. He put the pants on first, sliding them on before slipping the shirt over his head. When he glanced back at the two big people, they were both on the ground, one looking bewildered and the other being very very still. Slowly, gracefully moving across the sand towards the duo, watching carefully. As he was about to poke the one being really still, he opened his eyes and something on his forearm glowed. Then he asked a question, if he could do something without no pain. Seemed silly to him to mention that, since if you get something through pain, it's obviously not useful. However what really bewildered him was that his arm glowed on this one spot. "What's that? Why is your arm glowing? Does it hurt? What's the little drawing? Why doesn't my arm glow like that?" John scrabbled forward in between the two of them, careful to avoid the big persons wound. Then he grabbed the wrist of the glowing arm to keep it still and then proceeded in poking and prodding the weird glowing drawing, trying to figure out what it was.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

She was as stubborn as a goat, but as beautiful as a wonderful Murian Lilly. Maybe one day he would show her the isle that changed him forever. But he didn’t need to show her the isle for her to know how far he had come; he was about to show her just how much the isle had changed him. From Seven to Serrif. He was both, but neither at the same time; he lived in the body of Seven but with the mind and abilities of Serrif.

The Kelvic was curious as anyone would be. Most would consider him a nuisance, but Serrif had a different perspective on the event. He was about to likely show this Kelvic something he couldn’t comprehend. Something he couldn’t even begin to fathom; because it required faith…unyielding trust in the ability to heal. The man questioned him, poked him and was curious. Serrif laughed a little as he then nodded.

“I am marked by Rak’keli, it does not hurt it only heals.” He then gently with a guided hand moved the man out of his way.

Being animalistic in nature the man would likely feel Serrif’s gift as he laid his bare hands on the man’s arm and shoulder gently moving him. The man’s inner self would grow calm, he would feel whatever calmed him the most as it gently washed over him. He could attribute it to the mark on Serrif’s arm; but truth was it was something completely different in itself…even if the two gifts did work quite well together.

“Just watch then you will understand.” He moved back to Ishara’s side kneeling beside her.

Lym had taught him several careful lessons about healing with his mark, one was that it helped if your patient was calm and collected because if they had never experienced the gift before…It was described as one of the most astonishing feelings available to any living being. The feeling of the overwhelming grace Rak’keli offered, the healing from damage and illness. One had to experience it first hand to know what it was like…and he had. But even deeper than most, because his healing had been done by the goddess herself.

She had in a single touch mended all his bones; repairing years of damage and abuse. He still remembered how that felt…how humbling it had been knowing full well he didn’t deserve it. And in a way he knew Ishara would feel that same gentle warmth he had felt, grace…his words came to her like a whisper as he instructed her.

“Close your eyes Ishara and simply feel.” Once she did he would gently place his left hand atop her knee.

She too would experience his gift before the grace of Rak’keli repaired her shallow wound. He then carefully guided his right hand to walk down her calf. He believed he could heal but only by the grace of Rak’keli. This was what he was now. A healer, a man of grace taken from the ashes of dismay and horror. His touch was light on her leg, but his gift made up for this. Her wound would first have no more pain, she could no longer feel it at all. Then as his hand gently approached the wound just began to heal as if being erased from her skin entirely. It was replaced instead by matching skin bronze in color like the incident had never happened at all.

The moment between them was almost intimate, she would now know exactly what he was as well as what he was capable of and what his gift meant. He finished but still one last time ran his hand up her calf for good measure almost as if to admire Rak’keli’s work through him. But truth be told he wanted to touch her, just like she had snuck that glance at him hoping he had actually disrobed earlier.

“That should be better.” An understatement.