Disease Courting Death (Wren)

[Aello]

Timestamp: Fall 14, 512 AV Location: Somewhere between Ravok and Syliras Muddied irises trailed over a cleaned strip of uneven terrain. The pines that once lined it having been wrenched from the earth by what Aello assumed to be either torrential downpour, or intense gale winds. She could see shards of lightly curved brown bark strewn haphazardly across the parched soil. Dried, with the lack of recent rains, packed down by creature's step, and the cool fall air which helped keep it in one place. See the last of shriveled leaves, most still green, although some had turned a sandier tone. She watched them furling into themselves, hiding from the elements. Needles no longer than an inch or two scattered amongst the rubble. Grains of dirt which slid easily over the surface with the occasional wind that swept through the forest. Whipping the folds of her long green dress about her ankles. Causing the simple cotton fabric to ripple as it tousled her chestnut colored hair. Sent it flying; splaying across her face, her lips. The frayed edges tickling the plump outer edge before she lifted a hand and pulled them away, tucking them behind her ear so they would bother her no more. The most intriguing spectacle however, was neither of these- the pine's needles, or discarded strips of bark, but the trunks themselves, which had been severed by one of nature's other births. One of its monstrous creatures, which may or may not have been as ethereal as the air. As intangible as all that remained unseen and unheard. Each was cracked near the base. Long jagged rises growing from the lower half. As though each few inches had been carved into one of the native's spears, or perhaps, the mirror imagine of a castle's crenellations. A wolf's massive canine teeth. The bark about these sections peeling away, as one may pull the skin from a banana, or the rind from an orange or grapefruit. The upper portion was much the same, although the diamond backed pattern of the bark tended to strip a little less. To run away from the central stalk in droves. Although, sticky sap, dark as midnight amber, clung heavily. Cascading down the length of the trunk in narrowed strips, which fell into lightly curved lobes, akin to the ends of a human's tears. Droplets of rain water. As her eyes neared the tops of the fallen trunks, Aello would notice several severed branches. Many hanging at awkward angles. Broken arms held out in wait for someone to come by with casts and bandages to repair. To hide their ghastly forms from all eyes. Others, the unbroken and unburdened reached for the sky. The last of their needles swaying slowly in the breeze as the arms themselves seemingly prayed for deliverance, beseeching the sky that no more was sent to destroy them. Or perhaps, the opposite, that something else be rained down upon them, so their pitiful lives could end all the more swiftly, and perhaps, far more peacefully too. As the needles danced for her, Aello listened to their rustling. The soft humming of music they produced as browns and delicate shades of green twirled together, forming a strange symphony of flat and sharp notes. Those with perfect pitch. Intrigued by the sight, the young spiritist allowed herself to venture even closer to the fallen masses. The last of nature's tortured souls, (within her field of vision). When having closed the distance that had rested between her form and the nearest she paused a moment as her fist tightened around the supple curve of her father's old bow. Her thumb trailing over the grip idly as her eyes took in the sight of gnarled and twisting roots trailing towards her feet. Like several miniscule serpents slithering closer; trying to ensnare easy prey within one of their traps. Unable to be phased by such a sight, the girl merely shrugged as she took a deep cleansing breath in through the nose and out through the mouth as she hiked her bow up the length of her arm. Allowing the string to settle upon her shoulder before she rubbed her hands together to warm them. When she felt the heat that rested between her palms rising, and the flesh itself beginning to grow red, she padded forward before jumping. Allowing herself to land upon the base of the fallen tree. Her boiled leather soles skidded against the bark, causing small sections to recoil. To furl, and shrivel before falling away, alongside several chips and clods of mud. She could hear them grating a bit after the initial thud, followed by hollowed ring. For the wood itself, pale and growing increasingly elderly in appearance with the added exposure to the elements, could scarcely stand to bear the weight of her upon them as well. But Aello didn't notice, nor if she had, may she have cared, as she wobbled a moment, her body swaying as the needles had as she fought to steady herself on the soft round of the tree's lower trunk. After a few ticks of the clock, however, she managed by lifting her arms, and holding them out to her sides. Her palms extended, fingers held tightly together, as though they were bound by string grown taut. They rocked as her body rocked, and Aello eased herself along the tree's length. Stepping lightly. Softly, as slowly as she could. With her measured, methodical strides, the young aurist would raise a single leg at a time. Bending the limb at the knee before lifting it on high, and then pressing it down a little further ahead. Over and over again, as though she were marching over the body of nature. Making note not to tread upon needles which may cause her to slip, or into sticky sap which may serve to ensnare as it stuck to the boiled leather soles of her boots. Making it difficult to lift them again and keep on moving. As she continued to breath evenly, Aello gingerly made her way along. Thinking little as she glided, enjoying the early morning. The sun high in the clear blue sky. Its rays trickling down to earth. A soft gold which kissed her skin as it danced over her face. Casting part of it in its light, and the rest in shadow. But, for the most part, managing to warm all, even the parts it left behind. Smiling weakly, Aello enjoyed her trek. Making her way along a near fifty foot tree. (Or so it would seem to her untrained eye). Enjoying the weather, basking in the sun as she practiced her balance. Allowed her muscles to re-awaken after a long night's sleep, huddled close to the fire alongside several other assassin's sent in Rhysol's wake to carry out his ill intentioned will. Soon, Aello knew, she would not only be walking upon nature's grave, but another's. That of other men, some she may consider innocent, and those not, for they would be trying to kill her as much as she was them. Merely because she was commanded to. By one she did not trust. Or like, or believe in. But at the end of the day, was that what truly mattered? OOCSorry, peculiar post is peculiar.

[Wrenmae]

His horse ran with the wind. On its back, Wrenmae marveled once again with the ease of riding the steed. The black horse moved with an equine grace unrivaled by his previous mount. It leaped over stumps and other moguls, thundered between trees...it was all the storyteller could do to cling to its mane and reigns.

He resisted the urge to whoop out gleefully, fearing suddenly the shapes of too close trees, their jagged fingers, their dead-tipped claws. Ahead of the contingent, he had afforded enough of a break to rest. The horse plodded gently beneath the dappled forest canopy, ease in both itself and the world around it more an arrogance of spirit. The beast had been given to him by Vayt and it now strode with a station befitting of its divine heritage.

Wrenmae patted the creature on the neck, smiling. One day he would name this creature. One day it would truly be his.

I vote Thunderfeet.

No.

Vayt's widdle wuverly pony?

No.

Emergency Rations?

Shut up, Zan.

Why? All you do is drool over that damn horse. The god gave you a bloody horse, not the keys to a flying octopus.

Just as well, it would be far too obvious.

Jokes! I make jokes! Do I have to choke you with comedy?

Choking is a specialty of yours, as I recall.

Oh ha-ha. And whose idea was that?

Mine. As are most good ideas.

Sure, Fatface, because we've been dancing in daisies ever since we left Alvadas. Let's catalogue your list of accomplishments, shall we?

I'd rather not?

Too late boyo! Too late! Nothing else to do, and between this and hatching plots with the food you've eaten to give you indigestion, this seems like the most 'me' thing to do.

Carry on then, petcher.

Ok. So. We had the shipwreck, and sleeping with that fish-girl, oh yes! Wolves in the forest! Who could forget those loveable pups? Then Sunberth, ooooo, yeah, where we got tortured for a season and then bounced around serving a sex starved Myrian and his kooky conjurer cohort. Then to Zeltiva where you stir up trouble, kill people, and sign up for a quest to the island of the not-so-pulse-rich. That about cover it?

Fairly well.

Ugh. You're impossible. I'll never get through to you while you baby that damn horse.

You said something?

Whatever.

But it was the movement on a fallen tree that brought Wrenmae's attention from his horse to across the forest floor. Near a collection of shattered trunks, Aello balanced easily on a fallen tree. For a moment, he was reminded of how phantom she had seemed when they first met...and she certainly had not changed. Her pale skin was alabaster milk complimenting an equally light colored dress.

For a moment, his words froze in his throat and he almost coughed.

Swallowing them back, he tried again, calling out to her.

"We meet again, my wild beauty. Tell me, do you think this time is fate?"

[Aello]

The wind whistled; its ethereal grace circling the huntress hungrily, licking at the folds of her simple dress. They caressed her legs, the exposed skin around her neck as they lifted her chestnut colored mane from her shoulders. Causing it to sway around her as her lithe form rocked from side to side with each measured step. As she glided along, her ears prickled, taking on the sound of thundering hooves, and then a voice, drawing her out of concentration. Forcing her to look up, into familiar eyes, which seemed so distant from where he sat; afar. Muddied irises settled, although her brow could not manage, her forehead growing marred by thin lines, which her eye's shade easily fell into. "Wren?" Aello whispered, as she turned to face him, her hands falling to her side as her boots grated against bark. For a moment she stood, silent and still, simply staring at the man atop his horse. After a tick, she cocked her head, almost disbelieving, for she did not recall him having a horse. Knowing how to ride. But then again, she didn't recall his actually wearing clothes either. Even so, the huntress was certain that her eyes did not deceive her, and with a push against her shoulder, forced her bow to pop and slide down her arm's length. Within a moment, she had caught it; her fingers furling easily around the familiar weight of the supple curve. Another tick, and she had straightened, leapt from the fallen tree, and landed softly upon the ground. "Fate?" Aello called out to him as she took a single step closer, her lips curling into a delicate grin as a small sparkle made its way into her muddied irises. She shook her head lightly, her eyes never leaving him as her hair coiled around her neck. Serpents slithering around stark white. "Is there such a thing as fate?" she inquired, as she took another measured stride, serving to help breach the distance that still lingered between them. "Or even destiny?" There was a short pause as she stifled a sort of chuckle, and allowed her thumb to dance over the bow's curve. "Or is everything left up to chance, or perhaps, the god's whim?" Again her eyes glimmered, but more with a sort of knowing than mischief, as they had before. "I am not sure I believe in fate Wren," Aello said, her voice soft. "But they say there is a god for that. As with everything..."

[Wrenmae]

The hypnotist smiled, swinging off his horse and tying it to a tree with fair ease. The ride from the contingent had not been far and he really had been aiming to test the mettle of his Vayt-granted steed than any ulterior motive.

"A god for all things," he said, weighting the words and then shrugging, "Let them have their domains, not a one knows what it means to be mortal and so we'll have all the fun."

They were but strides apart, she with her bow and rhythmic fingers and he in his steel-cloak, black against the noonday sun, and his leather armor, blades twinkling at his sides. The leather creaked as he bowed, smiling, "Lady of the forest, Aello, it's been far too long. And you're healthy, I see. Surely my presence did not cause you too much discomfort before?"

There was something different about him to Aello now. Gone was the cautious, caustic, ambition Shroud had...no, now he was someone else...wholly more together and yet perhaps more threatening than he had ever been previously. There was an easy confidence to him, the kind earned through too many battles and too much blood. Much had happened to him, evidently, since they had last met.

And yet here he was.

"How has the forest been," he asked with a quick smile, "Grown lonely for the want of company yet?"

[Aello]

Her eyes followed him as he dismounted, and began to close the distance. "Perhaps," the huntress said simply, her lips held tightly shut after the words had left her. A thin line that betrayed nothing of what was stirring within her heart. A sense of unease, confusion, mayhaps. The huntress shook her head lightly. "Not that I can recall." The huntress fell silent a moment as her thumb ran the course of the bow's supple curve. "The same as it has always been- an endless sea of trees that conceals all that would lurk in the shadows, and quiets the world's song." She smiled weakly. "No, for there are those who would travel with me. And what of you Wren, have you grown lonely, after all this time?"

[Fallacy]

XP Award! Name:Aello XP Award: N/A Lore: Nature's Tortured Souls Notes: Name:Wrenmae XP Award: N/A Lore: Aello Doesn't Believe in Fate Notes: As per request, thread was graded. Any questions or concerns about the rewards gained please send a PM