A Welcomed Friend [Hex]

[Vanator]

TS: 50th Day of Spring, 510 AV Location: One day's ride from Endrykas Status: tag Hex-Closed Rating :NC-17 The wound was not deep, the danger more likely stemming from possible infection than blood loss. A crimson, ragged line traced between the curve of bicep and tricep on Vanator's well-muscled left arm. He had rinsed the gash with water and tied a blue rag around his upper arm to staunch the bleeding. The Drykas cursed the stupidity that had lead to his injury. The wounded elk had seemed spent, panting shallowly and staggering to its knees. Vanator had approached it warily, ready to finish with his ax what his arrows had started. But the beast suddenly lurched to its feet and lunged at him wild-eyed. The hunter had stumbled back to avoid the massive antlers, but a sharp spur snagged the flesh of his arm and spun him to the ground. The quarry then bolted, leaving Vanator bleeding and empty-handed. He had abandoned the hunt, returning to camp. The grassland had heated as the sun passed its zenith, and after tending his wound, the horseman thanked Syna for the warmth as he paused to scan the horizon. Vanator took a moment to appreciate the saturation of color displayed, the azure sky, adorned with only wisps of tattered clouds, the powerful green of the waving grasses, dotted with a few splotches of solitary darker green trees. It was a stark contrast to the dull gray and brown of the same landscape as it appeared last winter, when Hex and he passed these same plains on their way to Endrykas. Backlash sidled up next to her rider, sniffing carefully at the bandage and nudging her head gently against his back. The Drykas wrapped his good arm around his Strider's smooth neck and entangled his fingers in her dark mane, resting his head against her firm cheek. "Its alright, just a flesh wound." he encouraged the buckskin mare. Vanator turned to hang the waterskin on a low branch of the gnarly little tree around which he had erected his camp. Wincing, he stretched the injured arm slightly, fearing it would stiffen. Leaning against the tree, the horseman slid down to his seat, resting in the soft grass, the sparsely leaved tree offering a mottled shade. He rubbed vainly at the few blood spots staining his tunic, then leaned his head back against the smooth bark, allowing his eyes to slip shut. A balmy breeze stirred across the grass, making a hissing sound and stirring a few strands of hair as it cooled his skin. Vanator released a relaxed sigh. This is what I needed, he thought. Life in Endrykas could get hectic. Even when traveling with the pavilion, he treasured the times he could slip away for some time alone in the grass. Though he had grown quite fond of Pygmy, he even welcomed a break from the energetic Kelvic girl. Vanator tried to push aside the throbbing pain in his arm. Relishing the soft kiss of the wind on his skin, he slipped from consciousness, his last remembrance as he faded off, a gentle wicker from Backlash.

[Hex]

A handful of cold water splashed against Hex's face as she bent over the small stream she had been following. Her hands massaged the skin of her face, sliding over her oily skin to remove the The days were growing warmer but a thin, crisp layer of winter chill licked the tops of the grasses as it breathed across Cyphrus. Distant mountains stood looming over the grassland like curious gods peeking in on the actions of mere mortals who ran around the grass mazes like frightened field mice. One particular mouse, Hex, clambered down the rock face of the mountain base after hearing the whining and stamping of Backlash below. Hex surveyed the area, and while no predators showed their auras close by, the noise of the mare would inevitably draw something near. Quickening her feet, Hex sprinted across the short grasses to close the distance between the horse and her and it didn't occur to Hex just how far away the steed was until she had been flat out running for almost ten chimes. Backlash had seen her and she turned her body to the side, shaking her head in discomfort. Something was very wrong. Hex fell back onto her heels into a stop, clouds of dry soil cartwheeling into a fog around her feet. She bore her eyes into the creature who emoted the tale of her fallen bonded one; attempting to read the signs of her stamping and thrashing with her Auristics. Even with the fuzziness of the horse's aura, Hex felt tangled in the single thought that came through: Vanator had been hurt and needed help. The thought rung clear and true through Hex's head and she snapped back into the scenery of the grassy field around her where the mare had settled into a soft pace in front of Hex. "Take me to him" she spoke loudly to Backlash, drawing the horse's attention and walking to her left flank. The yves strapped to her back held in place as Hex hoisted herself up onto the giant horse with a third and final try, her legs kicked and wiggled as she moved from laying on her belly to sitting upright on the yves. With next to no experience personally riding horses, Hex felt awkward enough to freeze uptop of Backlash, wondering what to do next. But before she could search her memory of times she watched Vanator direct her, Backlash took off like an arrow. With a frightened yelp, Hex fell forward and clung on for dear life. The power of the animal running at full tilt intimidated her, knotting her stomach and making her hold her breath. Almost an entire bell later they arrived at Vanator's camp and when Hex slopped down from the yves, her legs wobbled in place momentarily as she got back her stability. She had been clutching her thighs so tightly around Backlash that they throbbed with a numbing sensation, making it difficult to walk. Hex made her way over to Vanators side, slumping down next to him into a seated position on his right. His wound had been cleaned and wrapped she could see, but it was clear the bandages were filthy and needed changing soon. She went to wake him but paused when she looked at his sleeping there under the shade of the tiny tree. The stern look that usually marked his face had dissipated and what remained was the softness of sleep, a deep relaxation that overpowered all usual facial expression, resulting in a most natural of faces. Hex looked his face over, voyeuristic-ally examining the small lines and edges of his brow, nose and mouth, noticing how his plump lips lay slightly parted. Silently, Hex leaned her body across, planting one hand into the ground on the other side of his body and leaning close into his face. She waited for several moments to pass, wondering playfully if he would wake up and be surprised by her. But what first began as a funny thought became a playback of memories she had of him while they had traveled together to Endrykas from Din. Memories of smelling his scent through the thick leather hide of his armour clouded her mind, his musk was an intoxicating aroma that had haunted Hex during their travels. Times when they had slept near each other when Hex laid wide awake, ruminating over the feelings she had developed as she grew to know him personally. They didn't often speak but somehow they communicated through body language in ways that may not have seemed to be clear at first, but yielded great understanding. Completely lost in the lusting emotions she had coursing through her body, Hex bent her head and sniffed the surface of the skin on his neck, noting the salty smell that was his signature scent...

[Vanator]

The first sensation was a foggy sense of a presence intimately close. An instant later he felt the warmth of a softly exhaled breath against his neck. As he strained to flush the sleep from his mind and open his groggy eyes, his hand shot up, encircling Hex's neck just below the jaw. Vanator's eyes still focusing, his olfactory senses already offered him recognition. He inhaled deeply, recognizing the unmistakable scent that was Hex. He caught whiffs of the aromatic lotions and oils she used to keep her skin smooth and supple, and herbs she had employed in the past to tend to his wounds. As his hand rested against her throat, ready to crush, he detected the aroma of savory and honey that escaped in a breath from her lips. The Drykas' hand slipped from Hex's throat, his eyes open and alert now, with the help of the throbbing pain in his arm. He found Hex's lithe form stretched across him, her torso inches from is own. He was startled, but did not flinch. He simply allowed his gaze to gather the length of the healer's body. He began to question hHex's sudden appearance, but a glance over the woman's shoulder to the Strider beyond answered his question. He could tell the buckskin had been ridden, a lather of sweat giving the mare's coat a sheen. Backlash turned her head as Van looked to met her gaze, then glanced back, a quick nod and nicker confirming her part in the unexpected arrival. He only pondered the mystic's behavior for a few breathes. Vanator would say they were close friends, having experienced intense situations at her side. A bond had formed, a relationship that defied definition, their communication not typical but understood well enough. But, in all the time the two had spent together, alone in the grasslands, he had never sought pleasure from her. Not that Vanator had never considered it. Hex was alluringly exotic, a provokative combination of the best of the Chaktawe and Drykas women. He had struggled to practice restraint, to subvert his passions when Hex was so near. She was no mere woman. She conversed with ghosts, saw the world through auras, seemed to almost speak to the earth. She had been almost holy. But now, with her so near, her breath teasing his skin, his guts knotted with confusion and expectation. Unwilling to move, he turned his head only enough to place his mouth near her ear. He simply whispered in a soft breath, his lips brushing lightly against her earlobe. "Hex."

[Hex]

Driven by simple emotions that peeked her curiosity, Hex found a familiar comfort in the smells of others she knew personally. She reveled in the unique complexity of each person's scent, incorporated all of that person's being into the chemical result of their productivity. When his hand flew up to catch her throat, Hex flinched rigidly in place and shut her eyes tight into her face, preparing for a strike that never came. She accepted that there would be times when catching people off guard or in their sleep would alarm them to the point of violent reaction. For anyone who traveled alone, it was far out of anyone's comfort zone to be awoken in the midst of nap by a figure looming over you. She didn't dare make a move, holding her breath in her throat as she waited for Vanator to recognize her. It had been some time since they last saw each other, and raw emotions surfaced, sparking between them like lightning in the storm clouds. Hex knelt, frozen in a position on her knees over his body, leaning on her one free hand. Her body was stiff but the warmth of Vanator's breath spread over her ear and down her neck, igniting the nerves in her body which stood at attention in reaction. His words came out like the last sweet drops of water on a scorching day in the desert, cool as it washed over her body, traveling down her spine and curling in the pit of her pelvis. Eyes darted around in her head before she eased back slightly to look up into his eyes with a shy disposition, "I only...missed your smell, from when we traveled together. I enjoy your musk". It wasn't difficult for Hex to be honest, as she spoke straight from the heart, but she held back slightly then and didn't fully express everything that was on her mind. When they locked eyes, there was a tension that intensified the longer they held the gaze and thoughts tumbled inside of her head, flooding her vision with fantasies that had kept her stirring awake at night when they camped together. It was for a long time that Hex had felt a curiosity to explore Vanator, he seemed to be such a reserved man with an endless perplexity that branded his temperament. "Your wound.." Hex finally spoke, tearing her eyes away from Vanator's and looked down at the bandaged and blood-stained gash on his arm. It was past due for a cleaning and the skin around the cut was inflamed and puffy. Her free hand toyed with neck line of Vanator's chest armour, running her finger along the edge of the thick leather hide. "There's a stream not far from here, your wound needs to be cleaned again. Come on, I will help you." She grunted through the last sentence as she rose and stood over Vanator's body. She hadn't let go of his free hand, and rubbed two of his fingers in between hers, finally offering him a hand with getting to his feet.

[Vanator]

Hex's sudden, intimate appearance gave Vanator no opportunity to erect the walls that had kept him from acting upon his long-lived attraction. He had awakened without defense, his stirring senses assailed with the exotic scents and the expanse of skin her garments left exposed, draped before him. In the moments after he released his hold on her throat, a heat had already ignited in his core. Vanator met her light eyes as she turned her gaze on him, holding them fast. He sensed it too, a tangible tension like taut bands stretched between them, humming with a sensual curiosity. Surely he could not hide what she had awakened. He stayed still, unwilling to move. He had missed her voice, and as he heard it now, the lilting accent only amplifying her beauty. His gaze did not waver, and he would not allow her eyes to shift from his. He studied them, the porcelain whites, the rich hues of her irises, allowing him to fathom her intentions, and finding delight in what he saw. Only when Hex finally broke the glance, inspecting his injury, did the Drykas notice the throbbing pain in his arm again. Grateful for her arrival, now in so many ways, Vantor grasped Hex's offered hand, raising him self from the ground. He tried no to lean on the wounded arm, yet not pulling the slight woman down either. Wincing, he leaned against the trunk of the tree, regaining his feet. His head did not feel altogether clear, but the burning at his core remained unchecked. He looked down at his friend, sharing a small grin that spoke volumes. "Thanks Hex. You were always there when I needed fixed up." He released her hand, allowing his hand to slide up her arm. Hex's limbs were lean and strong, and he enjoyed running his fingers over the firm contours of her muscle. Without thought and out of character, Vanator leaned in to press his lips against Hex's. It was a soft, quick kiss, allowing him to taste the sweetness on her lips. Standing again to full height, his grin returned, "I like your smell too."

[Hex]

The kiss was sudden, catching Hex off guard as she listened to Vanator's appreciation of her company. In all her time with Vanator she had never thought he would return the feelings she felt herself, and his impulsiveness took her for another loop; she had misjudged his character and was excited about the things she was learning about him. Caught in the middle of an inhale Hex froze in place when he touched her lips, afraid to even blink in case she might miss something. The kiss was rather innocent - an expression of touch that spoke to her "I care about you", a reminder that she had solidified a trust filled relationship on her own since her time living alone on the grass plains. Her face showed an amused smirk that tickled the corners of her mouth, urging her to slide her hands over his masculine body a thousand times over. But resistance shielded her from her desires for the time being, as there were more important things at hand.. or in Vanator's case, arm. An exhale shook from her lungs and she consciously relaxed her wound up muscles before gesturing off to the north. "There's a stream further up from here. It's not too far, let's go". The walk was slow as they took their time, making sure Vanator did not stress himself into dehydration or anxiety. When they finally arrived at the small river that wound through the earth like a compass needle pointing east, several supplies were neatly pulled from Hex's bag; some fresh linen, a needle and thread, and a vial of medicinal ointment made from specific herbs. She excused herself for a short time to change from the leather dress she wore into an over sized linen shirt. The fabric was thin and fairly worn but it covered her up within the folds of its flowy material. Hex sat down on the rock bed that lined the river and removed her boots, slipping her feet into the swiftly moving water that cascaded over pebbles and rocks of all shapes and sizes. Twisting her head behind her, she caught Vanator's eye and flapped her hand towards her, patting the seat besides her. "Come sit down with me, and take off your armour." The request was for practical reasons of course, the leather of his armour would be compromised by the water she was going to use to clean the wound. Yes she thought, his clothing had to come off, it was the only logical way.

[Vanator]

Vanator had surprised himself with the ambush kiss he had given Hex. He could chalk it up to grogginess, or blood loss or something, but the truth was the mystic had stirred long suppressed desires that had found opportunity to spill out. They spoke little in transit, the movement caused the throbbing pain in his gashed arm to pound harder. Van pushed aside the pain, focusing on the intoxicating scents emanating from Hex and the occasional brush of her bare arm against his. Arriving by the small waterway, Vanator watched Hex retrieve her supplies, items he had seen before, used in past encounters to mend his torn body. Vanator eased himself down on the stones next to Hex, removing his boots as well. When you had the chance to cool your feet in some fresh water, you took advantage of it. At his friends instructions, he worked the hardened leather torso and shoulder armor off, gritting his teeth as he moved the injured arm. After Van tossed the protective gear aside, Backlash, who had faithfully trailed Hex and Vanator, moved closer to sniff at the armor, poking it with her nose. Van tried to relax, waiting for Hex to begin her healing ministrations. His eyes drifted to her small feet, submerged in the clear running water, then let his gaze follow the length of her legs, the soft bulge of her calves, the sharp angle of her knees, the strong thighs that vanished under the hem of the shirt. Then he had to turn his eyes away.

[Hex]

Hex found heaven in Vanator as she followed the contours of his bone structure with her eyes; her stare was so intense it could have easily rubbed muscle as if to massage his skin, even as it only lasted as long as Vanator took removing his breastplate. As soon as his eyes searched her face, she looked away discretely to the things near her lap, pulling them into her hands and then turning to inspect his wound. With the tips of her fingers, Hex pulled softly at the unraveling bandage that clung stiffly to his arm like a dry leaf, unwinding it and then flicking it away off to the side in the grass. The skin around the gash had begin to bubble with lymph, oozing with the protective pus that attempted to rid the body of dirt particles. A black kettle that had been boiling on the fire at Vanator's camp was brought along, filled to the brim with steaming water infused with a liquid that Hex dripped into water - a disinfectant of sorts that would do the job despite its mild potency. Removing the top and dipping linen into the hot water, Hex presented the steaming linen roll and paused, it would sting but that would kill the bacteria. Hex warned him with a murmur that it might hurt before pressing the long roll of hot linen over the wound, spilling the excess water out and over the affected area. An audible hiss rose from the wound site, trails of steam evaporating into the heavens like ascending souls. Soaked repeatedly in the water, the linen became progressively more stained red from the dried blood that had laid caked over his skin. When the temperature of the water cooled, the linen was tossed into the kettle and it slipped inside, swimming in the liquid like flower pedals dancing in the wind. The threaded needle was ready by the time the wound was fully cleaned, and without hesitation, Hex punctured the first bit of skin on the side of the wound closest to her, and pushed it through to the other side. The needle was looped through the skin a second time and with a cloth in the one hand and the thread pulled taut in the other, she pulled the wound closed very softly with every stitch; human skin was superbly flexible, even when damaged. As the stitches continued, trickles of blood dribbled down his arm and were obsessively mopped up with the sopping wet linen rag. Twelve stitches later and Vanator's arm looked as tender as a freshly butchered pork back, its reddened skin inflamed by Hex's poking and prodding. An herbal salve was draw out of one of the vials and slathered onto the wound, slimy and soothingly cool over the heat of his swollen skin. The salve would promote a slight fever to burn any infection, and as it was a most uncomfortable feeling to be heat stricken, the river they wadded in was the perfect place to bring down his temperature. With sleeves rolled up to her elbows and half of the shirt neck falling off her shoulder Hex pushed off from the rock she was sitting on and stood thigh high in the water, the cooling effect of the river painting the bottom of her shirt wet and puckering the skin of her legs stiff with goosebumps. If she was cold at all she didn't show it as she folded Vanator's good arm out and washed handfuls of water over his bronzed skin. Her arm dunked into the river, pulling a sheet of water up with her and flowing it further and further up his forearm until the crisp liquid was kissing the sensitive skin on the inside of his elbow. Hex paused and frowned when she looked upon his breeches, leather and still on him. "Take these off" she cooed at him, her voice a mixture of a demand and a beg, just audible enough to be heard over the racing sound of water around them.

[Vanator]

Vanator sucked in a sharp breath that hissed with the steaming rag as Hex applied it to his torn arm. The wound was sore and tender, infection already threatening to set in. As the warm rag cleansing progressed, the pain of the application lessened. He watched as she diligently ministered to his wound, and as she threaded her needle, he prepared himself mentally for what came next. He did not flinch as Hex thrust the needle through the healthy flesh beyond the gashes edge, but balled his opposite hand into a tight fist. Van suppressed a grunt as she continued to pierce his skin and draw the thread taut, closing the throbbing laceration. Turning his gaze from her stitching to her face, he sought to distract his attention from the pain buy studying Hex. He had always found her to be beautiful. Not like a tall, proud Drykas woman were, but in an exotic, wild, mysterious way. Her light green eyes reflected compassion and sober concentration as she focused on her task. His eyes trailed from her alluring features to her loosed ebony locks and down to her shoulder, revealed by the slipping shirt neck. Her skin was flawless, but for a few scars, her tone slightly lighter in than his. Van studied the soft contour of exposed her collar bone, and he suddenly found himself desiring to run his finger along its groove and over her shoulder. He resisted, not wishing to disturb Hex's work. Finally applying the soothing salve, Hex ceased her healing chore and Van observed the wound. The ointment was already easing the pain along the closed gash's surface. He was not sure what his friend was planning next as she stepped into the stream, but did not resist as she began to wash his healthy arm with the cool spring water. His eyes darted to Hex's as she requested he undress. There were few who dared to instruct or direct the Ankal's son. But Hex was different. Vanator realized she knew things he did not know, saw things he could not see. She had helped to keep them both alive in the grasslands, and had doctored him when he needed it. So Hex had special privileges, and when the healer told him to undress, he obediently stood. Van had to admit, he was intrigued by the rather unprofessional tone of the command. With care not to undo Hex's delicate work, Van removed his tunic and tossed it aside. Then he slid the hand ax from his belt and let it drop to the bank. Unfastening the belt, he slipped his breeches over his hips and let them slip to his ankles before stepping out of them. Vanator stood in all his Drykas glory, clothed only in the windmark on his back, the Lacun mark on his chest, and a short, thin undergarment. The purpose of Hex's cooling bath began to be apparent, as he felt the tingly uneasy feeling of the medicine-induced fever. Still waxing too was the heat that had first stirred when he awoke to Hex's soft breath on his skin. Vanator returned to his place at the edge of the stream, a tremulous anticipation growing within him.

[Hex]

Hex looked away as Vanator undressed, unsure of why she offered him privacy when she had already stripped him of it already. Her intentions were clouded, initially flooded with concern over his wound but progressively transformed into an uncontrollable curiosity to touch every inch of his skin with her mouth. When he settled back into his spot on the grassy rock wall of the river, she looked into his face, becoming enamored in the curves of his face, the fullness of his lips, the depth in his eyes. His skin was the colour of a baked orange peel, like darkened honey held up to the light of the sun. The pain in his eyes shadowed his magnificence to all but Hex. She saw how the darkness had defined him and even offered a contrast to the side of him that had felt compassion and love before it was torn from his hands by the claws of a zith. Upon touching him and connecting with him, she could understand where he came from and how he felt, she could be in tuned to what he needed to hear and when he needed to be let free to follow his way. She couldn't control how he felt about her, but she could do her best to help him recreate for himself all the things he lost to the zith so that maybe his heart could someday be open. Hex stood in the river, her knees numbing but her torso burning as she took over the spans of exposed skin that he presented to her, not shy but humble in his pose. His legs lay draped over the rock seat, spread slightly as he leaned back on his good arm to watch her dunk her body into the pool up to her neck, her long hair floating around her in the water like wriggling sea snakes. Hex let her body float behind her as she guided herself through the water by the tips of her fingers along the river bed, gripping the stones with her nails and inching closer to his right leg. The top of Vanator's knee bobbed in the water, relenting to Hex's hands as she cupped his calf with one palm while the other cupped handfuls of water and washed the skin of his knee and thigh. Hex lowered her head to the skin over his kneecap and planted kisses along the inside of his leg, deliberately keeping her distance from his groin area. She used both hands occasionally, drenching his lower half with the cool water until his skin tightened and his mouth fell open in ecstasy, cooling him of his growing temperature. In one motion Hex pulled her body out of the water, the flowy material of the t-shirt clung by the water to the contours of her body and accented every curve and lump. Within moments she was face to face with him again, as if challenging him to meet his match. Her hands crept up the outsides of his torso as she crawled towards him on the rock and straightened up until her face was inches from his. She consciously made the effort to avoid touching his injured arm and so instead flattened her palms against his stomach, smoothing them up over his chest and rounding them over his muscular back. His neck was delicious and raw, sun kissed by all those years, and she bent her head to kiss the soft skin of his jawline as her hands crawled into his hair. The water from her soaked shirt dribbled over him, spilling down his chest and disappearing into the thin linen shorts he wore. It was all excessively erotic to Hex, and as soon as the linen shorts had become a transparent sheet to all the glory of him below, Hex nearly crumbled right there and then. He let out a hiss of pain in reaction to her grasping at his shoulders and Hex froze, attempting to apologize, but what came out was just a mess of moans, her body accumulating heat from the anticipation that built between them.