Kol's day had been long and messy. Having vanished into the jungle during the early morn to search for a location to wait and hide for a proper attack, the Myrian was running on luck and sore feet. It was by Caiyha's will that Kol had trekked through the thick brush of Falyndar with the kill on his back and it was a by his own will that he actually returned. Traversing the jungle terrain was not an easy task, less so with a bleeding weight heavy on your shoulders. His body ached and beads of sweat rolled down the tips of his nose, enhanced only by the flurry of bodies walking around the fires burning in the distance. But it was almost over.
Just when a few members of his clan came into sight and Kol was aiming to pass on his sacrifice, a rush of color came soaring from the corner of his eye. A shadow followed swiftly underneath it, resting on his body. A light weight pressed upon his head, little talons poking his skull and tangling his hair. Kol jerked to the side, unaware of what what really happening, cursing openly in Myrian. He tried to lift his arm to swat at whatever had landed on him, still unable to get a good look at the the thing, and felt a determined pecking vibrating on the okapi's flesh.
Akia was being eaten.
Call it a short temper from not being able to reap the benefits on his long day, but Kol was in no mood. Yanking free his dagger, the male prepared to swing it upwards at the bird when the sound of yelling stole his attention. A woman stood a ways away, next to another figure that was oddly familiar. The first, who had been screaming at the thieving bird was obviously an outsider, her form notably shorter than most any other grown female present. And then there were her eyes, that even from the distance, Kol took notice to. He paused, caught off guard by both the animal and its owner.
A small tearing of skin was heard and then the weight lifted from his head, mussing up his hair as claws dug into his scalp and pushed off. Kol winced, shooting glares at those from his clan, his sister, Peia, included. They were laughing at the whole situation. He stormed to them, shrugging off the dead okapi, "Save me the hide, eat the rest." He turned briskly on his heel, dagger still in hand to walk towards the black eyed woman. Jaw locked and furious to not only be embarrassed, but that the bird had stole his family's food, Kol's long legs allowed him to close the distance with ease. He weaved through passing Myrians who had finished scowling at the outsider's outburst, his own eye's locked. Briefly, his gaze flickered to the side, landing on the other, disheveled female in the perimeter.
Tazi.
A familiar name. A familiar feeling. A moment of hesitation, before his fury returned to the Chaktawe. He was close now, and saw her eyes clearly. He stared, crossing his arms, refusing to be deterred by her barbarian, black - eyed appearance. "You owe me what your bird stole." Kol did not think of whether or not she understood his words, just that the tone in his voice was clear. Cold, a little demanding... business-like. This outsider was not in just any city, and if she could not keep her animal under control, Kol would be happy to rid her of such a burden.
A dark glare and irritation rolled off the male in waves, and he felt his anger only intensify when he noticed Tazi was not only a little disheveled, but had been crying. And she was bleeding. Had the outsider done this? He raised the danger threatening, pointing it at the Chaktawe, "What did you do?, Kol snapped, a strong contrast to his usual quiet demeanor. He did not know how to translate, nor cared to reason things had this savage hurt his friend. Being protective - perhaps overly so - it would be easy for the Myrian to not only jump to conclusions, but find himself in tricky situations because of it.
And so the party began.
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Myrian
Common
