Being Tame is Overrated [Sylkra]

[Pash'nar]

Timestamp: 78 Spring 512, Morning Sometime Location: The Suvan Sea, closer to Syliras than Alvadas Syna had risen in a red and ominous horizon, promising rain and rough seas. Pash'nar returned from enduring the darkness at sea to the palivar at the first hints of her light, once again clothed in his tanned and inked mortal seeming—just another weary Svefra after another long night keeping watch. He willingly let one of the older Tidewater podlings catch his tow line and pull the Timeless close enough for him to scramble aboard the larger ship, foamy spray of the already choppy waves a shock to his drained system. With a top-knotted nod and a few mumbled words of Fratava permission, the lanky but competent Jahum boy traded places and slipped the tattooed sailor's old boat back out to sea to keep the next shift of scouting on time. Pash rubbed a calloused palm against heavy eyelids and wandered barefoot over the slowly warming age-worn wood of the palivar's deck, the chill of more sea spray against his exposed skin setting his teeth on edge. Breakfast was in order before sleep, and his now-functioning stomach snarled loudly in its need for sustenance. The dark-haired navigator grumbled along with his body's demands and swayed his way toward the cabin hatch to pad quietly below deck, careful in his attempt to keep those still sleeping from waking. The boat swayed and creaked, the stairs objecting to his presence with squeaking protests of their own. Still, he made his way into the tiny mess and rummaged for whatever semblance of a meal he could carry in his inked hands. It turned out to be an impressive amount of food, and it was all he could do to keep from leaving a crumbled trail behind him. Then, not quite as carefully, he shouldered his way back up the stairs and outside to watch the sun creep higher in the ominous sky from the upper deck with what he thought would be his solitude.

[Sylkra]

Sylkra hazily got up, curled up in a ball. She was in human form, and had been asleep since just past midnight.But now, she watched the sun and it watched her. So peaceful. The yellow golden mass of... what was the sun made of? Glass? Sand? Sylkra decided after a long period of thinking that it was magic.

She got up and stretched, her legs still criss crossed. She yawned. the boat wasn't the most ideal spot to sleep. It had been a restless night for her, waking up for a little then falling right back asleep. Sylkra knew she wouldn't be able to go back asleep this time, so got up and onto the main deck.

Her ears picked up a small scuffling noise. Oh no, it was him. The big bully. Sylkra was so annoyed at him. He was such a hot-headed bull. If she was ever nice to him, she would be losing her mind. But where could he be going?

Her mouth resembled a frown, and she silently followed him. Pash, he called himself. She was not too far away but close enough to see him. He went up the stairs to the upper deck, and disappeared. As swift as a mouse, she ran up the hard stairs.

She found herself atop a largea area looking out into the sea. Everywhere she looked came a dark blue hue. She shuddered. If this boat sunk, there would be no escaping. Sylkra wished she was a bird kelvic.

On the top docks was no othe than Pash'nar. Time to make herself known.

"Why hello there."

[Pash'nar]

Pash'nar had laid out his thrown-together feast, stretching his legs on the deck with his back against the ropes that held the jib sail to the stern. The breeze was crisp, but being at the highest point on the ship beside the mast meant he was mostly out of range from the sea spray and waves. It was a petching beautiful view, if anyone had asked him, with the blazing dawn sky and the choppy waves. A flock of terns were feasting off the starboard, the cloud of birds diving and squawking. Sylkra startled him, busy as he was fighting off sleep with food. He looked up with his mouth full. The false Svefra blinked, chewing with an almost taunting slowness, bent on enjoying his breakfast before he, himself, risked getting eaten. Swallowing loudly, he blinked, eyeing the woman who was also a wolf. Or the wolf who was also a woman, "Ah. Er. M'sorry if I woke you." He took a bite of dried fish and spoke again before he'd finished, "Ain't easy t'be quiet onna ship. E'ryone in close quarters'n'all." Cerulean gaze drifted to the rest of his food, guardedly, before looking back up at Sylkra. He wasn't sure if he should take his breakfast and run, so he just kept eating. He'd come to understand the kelvic found him unsavory. He supposed no one particularly got off on the right foot that day on the beach, but he'd also learned to let bilge water be bilge water when necessary. He wasn't one to apologize for being himself.

[Sylkra]

Sylkra was about to let out a low growl. She should just throw him in the ocean right now. But, he was guiding them to Alvadas. Maybe when they were there she could finish him. Sylkra never trusted men. Mysterious, hot-headed men. They were so hostile.

Sylkra managed to show a weak smile. So far, the ride was a complete disaster for her. She had to get on a piece of wood that floated in the middle of nowhere. How perfectly safe. She walked over and sat down in the corner of the platform, facing Pash. She licked her lips at the sight of food. Sweet, salty, tender, juicy food.

She couldn't think of anything to say. This man was a stranger, almost alien, to her. The first thing that came to her mind though was the sun.

"What do you think the sun is made of?" she asked, completely ignoring his previous statement.

[Pash'nar]

Hot-breathed, slobbering, toothy kelvic. They were so unpredictable. Just another animal pretending to be a person. A pet who obviously needed supervision. Dangerous when she had sharp teeth and claws. Had she attacked him on the beach on pure instinct? Surely, anyone more human than animal would have given a sod a petching chance. He wasn't safe, or always kind, but he certainly had his moments. He smirked at her question, wiping a few crumbs from the side of his mouth with the back of a tattooed hand. Pash'nar noticed her interest in his meal, and he suddenly became a bit more expressive and theatrical about enjoying it. Chewing luxuriously, cerulean eyes sparkling like seawater with amused mischief, "Syna? Th'sun?" She may have meant the orb in the sky, but the false Svefra thought of the sun in terms of his once-god's lover, "She's made of warmth and light, gentleness and calm. She tamed Leth's beastly, wild heart." The dark-haired navigator looked away, a wordless pain clouding the depths of his seawater gaze. He stared out over the swift-moving ocean waves and swallowed hard, coughing a little as crusty bread not carefully chewed scraped down his suddenly tightened throat. Light indeed could tame darkness, but only if such darkness was willing. It was always at a cost, however. Something had to be surrendered. Given. Shared. Would he have slipped from his home in the Ukalas had it not been for Syna? For love? Their sacrifice had cost him everything. And he was stuck here for their mistake. Or so he believed. An uneasy breath hissed through too-perfect teeth and Pash'nar dragged his eyes reluctantly back to Sylkra. The kelvic who was apparently bonded to the Drykas swordsman who— "I ain't sure what th'actual sun's made of, but I'm sure it's nice things." He laughed, though it was distant and soft. Talking about such things reminded him of feelings he didn't want to feel and memories he didn't want to remember. So, he simply changed the subject. He picked up a dry curve of preserved fish and shook it tantalizingly in the kelvic's direction, feeling cautiously generous, though afraid for the tattooed fingers of his hand, "Brekkie?"

[Sylkra]

Sylkra watched the sun for about 5 seconds before looking away, her eyes blinking. She turned her gaze back at him. Before, it was curious. Now, it was intimidating. He was trying to make a fool out of her. Was he? Sylkra let out a very small growl, just to show him who was boss. No one was going to control her but Sariana.

The slobber still dripped from her mouth. It eventually was so bad, it dripped onto her knee. She licked her lips and got annoyed. He was using her. Probably laughing at her in his head right now. The fool liked how her mouth ran. Well, she was a dog. Her mouth dropped into a frown. It kind of hurt. Her drool was still running from her mouth, so she licked it clean once more. It stopped then. She instead looking at the birds flying overhead.

The boy told of the sun, and something about a goddess. But Sylkra wasn't listening. Instead, she thought of how she could please Sariana. But this made her wonder, did Pash'nar like Sariana? If he didn't, she would surely rip him to pieces as soon as they got off this wretched boat. He had to like Sariana, she was the nicest girl in the world.

Her thoughts clouded her hearing and sight so she didn't listen at all to his last word. Then again, she wasn't listening to anything he said.

Her mind came back to the real world and she said, "So how's it going between you and Sariana?"

She was going to persuade him to like her. Even if he already did, she would make him like her some more.

Sylkra lifted her necklace and said, "She's very nice. She gave me this."

[Pash'nar]

Pash'nar watched the kelvic drool over his breakfast. It made his chest itch in memory. He stopped eating and sighed. He wasn't sure whether to be intimidated or amused. Of course she would know who he was. Did she smell him on her master that morning she came home after he'd kept the Drykas to himself all night? Did she smell her master in his thoughts—he spent the day attempting to avoid Sariana, unsure of how to tell her he was the same as that shard of moonlight in the night. He'd been careful to leave the parivel before sunset, slinking onto his casinor before his shifting with the setting sun and staying out scouting until dawn. He'd been careful to sleep as much of the day as he could, to spend only a limited amount of time with the three he'd agreed to help transport. He knew their start had been a rough one—he was rough, abrasive, rude. It was an effective defense. "I ain't sure I know what you mean." He lied, pushing his now unwanted food in the kelvic's direction. She could have it. She ruined his appetite with her previous question, anyway. "Should somethin' be goin' on between us?" Pash'nar attempted to play the innocent card, but it was hard to keep the truth off of his ageless, sea-sculpted face. He was hardly, if ever, innocent. The tattooed sailor was indeed a Svefra by day, but only Nira'lia and his Svefra friends knew he was also a pale fallen of Leth's own realm by night. At least, he thought. Had Sylkra seen him? Did she watch him at night while he was out making sure the palivar didn't run into beasts of the sea? Sariana knew both forms, one perhaps more intimately than the other, but he'd been careful to keep his secret. Surely, she would none too happy by his deception, but she also would never have allowed the things that passed between them to happen had he been only the same swarthy Svefra from the beach. He didn't know how to tell her the truth without hurting her. So he didn't. The dark-haired navigator sighed and looked away from Sylkra, keeping the guilt in his eyes from her, "Aye, she's nice'n'all. But I can tell you two share feelin's 'bout me." He knew the wolf distrusted him. Did Sariana feel the same way in the daylight?

[Sylkra]

Sylkra looked at the food he had given her. She gobbled it all up, and when she was done, regretted it. She wasn't supposed to have alot of human food, it made her stomach sick. But, for now, it tasted good. She wiped her mouth with her arm.

The Svefra lied. She could tell. First, by his tone. It was normal, but Sylkra could sense the doubt in it. Second, he had Sariana's scent all over him. And if Sylkra didn't know her own master's scent by now, her name wasn't Sylkra. She snorted.

"Okay then. Can I have the real answer now? You can't fool me, Pash."

She smirked. Maybe this time, he would tell the truth. It was always good to be truthful, for better or worse.

[Pash'nar]

The dark-haired sailor bristled visibly, wind-swept muscles of his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth. The wolf would, of course, be one to cut to the chase. He looked down and away from Sylkra, using a calloused thumb and finger to flick crumbs in her direction with obvious petulance. "Petch you. I ain't got a real answer Not one that matters shyke t'anythin'." Pash'nar didn't look up right away, choosing to look over the rails and stare at the sea instead, letting the boat rise and fall with the waves for a long, drawn out silence. He seemed to pout a bit, struggling with whether or not the kelvic even deserved the truth. Sure, he'd found the Drykas attractive. Interesting enough to peak his curiosity. Strong-willed enough to challenge him. Soft enough to leave him hungry for more. But her Sea of Grass was nothing like the Suvan Sea; they were very different. He'd enjoyed his moment—his stolen moment—with the swordswoman. If she wanted more, she would have to make the moves from here on out. He'd run his course, though perhaps not to its destination, but he didn't know where else to set sail. He'd used Sariana in a way. Used her attractiveness and his own under the moon to get what he wanted. Or at least, what he thought he wanted. Would the Drykas have wanted him otherwise, in the daylight, as the swarthy navigator? No, probably not. But she had wanted, and quiet enjoyed, the statuesque piece of moonlight clothed in flesh. It was not the first time he'd taken advantage of the unearthly charms of his moonlit appearance The false Svefra sighed, still not looking at the wolf, "I ain't sure what you wanna hear. You know more answers than you wanna let on, don'tcha? You can put some o'the pieces together, eh?" He looked up, expression falling into something deadpan and distant, blue eyes finally meeting gold ones without any of the typical caution, "Sariana possesses a devotion I envy, what with bein' willin' to take some dead man's ashes to some gods-forsakenly cold place jus' because 'e asked 'er to. She's strong an' full of her own mind." She was also quite lovely in nothing but lamplight on his own boat, "So, aye, she's a fine lass, but it ain't like she appreciates me in any way. Like you, I know I got off'n the wrong foot an' I doubt there's way t'undo that without some trouble. 'Sides, it ain't like I have time t'waste with folks who don't like the sea."