East Bank of the Silver Run River
The lands of the Abode surround you.
At the rivers edge, a pool has formed, sheltered by huge rocks on the west side, allowing the water there to collect and empty out somewhat at odd intervals. Here it seems a good place for the washing out of leathers, bathing of bodies and general relaxing, though the waters you find are chilled. There is smooth white sand, surprisingly, under your feet and you find yourself smiling at this pleasant place. There are a few trees scattered over the beach, providing shade as well patches of cleared ground. The bank here begins tapering off into thick woods, limbs covered with gaily colored leaves as the holt prepares for the season of DeathSleep. Dead and dying shrubs and undergrowth encroaches all around as the bank blends with and eventually becomes the forest. Tiny bugs zip around at ankle height, and occasionally a fish leaps out to snatch at one of them. It is a cool autumn afternoon. The father tree is quiet as elves and wolves sleep in their dens.
A full day and night has passed since both Larias and Savith woke up in the middle of their shared nightmare. During that time, save for the short conversation soon after that rude awakening, Larias hasn't been very communicative, rarely speaking or sending more than a word. Her shields, protecting self, preserving thoughts have been up the entire time, shutting herself off from her Recognized as best she can. Sleep has not come, and with the daystar once again beginning its descent, the elfess is looking a bit haggard. What thoughts could keep her so on guard she won't let herself sleep, for fear they may leak through. But at last, the sound of her throat clearing rings loud in the silent glade, and she finally does speak from where she lays in the shelter, feeling to tired to move herself, "Could... I have some water? Please?" Aww, and polite, something is up.
Savith has been sitting about, resting, loafing, bored really. If Larias doesn't talk, he doesn't either, giving her her space and privacy. The sound of her voice is a bit of a startle, after so long in silence. A glance at Larias, and he gets up and collects a waterskin. As he lifts it, it's too light, and so to the pool, where he fills it from the upstream flow of water before flying to Larias and holding the waterskin out to her.
Larias pushes herself to an upright position, using one hand to keep herself steadied. She glances up as Savith nears, though quickly looks back down again as she takes the skin, face schooling into non-expression, as best she can anyway. Closing her eyes she drinks deeply, several long draughts of the fresh clear liquid. Heedless of the work of art Llune has crafted in the form of a dress, she wipes her lips dry with the back of her arm. A half murmured "Thank you" before she hands it back. Her knees draw up, keeping the blanket on her lower half for warmth, her arms wrapping loosely about her legs.
Savith watches Larias as she drinks, but keeps his mind to himself. Silent. He collects the waterskin when she finishes with it, wordlessly nodding his reply to her murmured thank you. With a thought, it is rehung on a small branch, and Savith turns to stand and float away, once more giving Larias her privacy. Stupid Chosen. Don't you realize she doesn't like being alone?
With his back turned to her, Larias lifts her head, her eyes following his every move. For those watching, its quite obvious she is studying her fellow Chosen, forehead marred by tiny furrows as she memorizes every single detail of his gliding form. Since there is no need to mask her emotions, some play in her eyes, though the watchers don't know her so well as to be able to read them. Very nearly a smile forms as a random thought drifts by. How long has it been since she's eaten? Time to remedy that, once again her eyes dropping down, face smoothing over, voice carrying out towards him, "Is there.. anything left from the basket brought by the Villager?"
Savith's face held a touch of concern at Larias's silence. The raging he can handle. The curt words he can handle. The nightmares, well, he'll learn to handle them. But this? Dropping to the ground by the pool where he can over look the river, he's about to get comfortable when Larias's voice sops him. Food? He nods and stands again, moving toward where he stashed the basket. Looking in, he checks. Just enough. Taking the basket, he flies to Larias and drops to kneeling again to hand the basket over, again, wordlessly.
Without bothering to look, a hand reaches in, blindly selecting something that feels vaguely edible. She doesn't even bother to look before she brings what happens to be a piece of dried meat to her lips. She lifts her head just slightly taking the bite, using the motion as an excuse to glance at Savith as he kneels. A small nibble is taken, chewed and swallowed. Again, she lets the silence hang thick in the air several moments before she speaks again. "Thank you..." There is a tremor in her voice, a frown as she note sit, then, with a sigh she speaks softly, hoping the words do not carry to the sharp wolfrider ears abounding, "What do you think of me?"
Savith waits until Larias says thank you before he starts to stand to go. Just as he tenses to start to rise, Larias speaks again. What does he think of her? What DOES he think of her? Settling to the ground cross-legged, he ponders a moment. That's a good question. Finally, in a voice just as soft, he replies, "Do you want a polite answer, or an honest answer?"
The corner's of her mouth twitch, so very nearly the impassive mask is broken. Larias finds herself having to look down, mm, yes, look at the basket, maybe theres something aside from the dried meat worth eating in there. Her soft voice murmurs, "An honest one," a light pause before once again she is polite, "please."
Honest. Okay. You asked for it. "When we first met, I didn't care about you. Just another glider. Then a traitor. Everything I despised," Savith begins, voice soft. His eyes too drop to the basket. "Then at Raft Holt, you were at first a bargaining tool, or so I hoped, but after those dreams." He pauses again, remembering those dark nightmares he fought so hard to remove from you. The memory makes him shudder slightly. "Then, another thing I hurt, like Wildstorm," he continues, his voice cracking to near a whisper at the name. He knew she died merely a turn or so after he abandoned them. He's silent a moment, as if not goingto say more, then he picks up again. "When... eyes met eyes," he whispers, "You seemed the thing that would end me. When I found you again at Grove, there was hope, finally. A chance to set some things right, fix what I had destroyed, ask forgiveness of what I had destroyed... and pure blooded." He tried to smile, shaking his head slightly, eyes still downcast, "You've no idea now complete it makes me feel sometimes. Despite all your moods, there's times when... I feel whole again."
Her pale eyes remain locked on the basket, though her attention is well and truly on Savith's reply. She remains still and motionless throughout his soft speech. Her expression so very nearly threatens to crack at the mention of her nightmares, again when he speaks of eyes meeting eyes. And to keep her face schooled to calm, Larias closes her eyes as he speaks the last. It takes a few moments before she trusts her voice to respond, evenly, "I see." She swallows, opening her eyes once more, staring at the tops of her blanket covered knees, "Thank you." Her mouth opens to say more, but, she refrains, instead, letting the silence fall one more.
Savith waits a moment, not looking up into her face. Her reply, so flat and monotone, he finds his throat dry from it. When she says thank you, he nods, and stands to fly away again. So much like a good Chosen, dismissed once a report is given to His Lord.
She doesn't even have to look over to note his motion. Her position shifts, allowing her to bend her head and place forehead to knees. The mask falls, not that anyone can see it, considering the position she has pretzelled herself into. Rather than comment on the last of what he said, she murmurs softly into her legs, "And have you... have you set things right? Been forgiven?"
Savith stops a few steps away, and turns to look back. "I'm sorry," he says, "What was that?" He's not sure what she said.
Larias doesn't bother to lift her head, merely turning it to the side, her cheek resting where her forehead had been. Her eyes are clouded, deep troubled thoughts abounding, so easy to see, but still she tries to keep that connection, tat tie of souls choked off. Barely louder than before, its easier to understand now that she's not speaking to her legs, "Have you set things right and been forgiven?"
Savith's head tilts to the side. He can see her trouble, the cloud in her eyes, but... High ones! She's blocking him from it? Floating back over, he sits, and waits until he has her full attention before replying. "I don't know. You tell me."
Her attention hasn't wavered since she actually managed to bring herself to speak and ask for water and food, though, now that the basket is near, it remains untouched. She turns her head away, lifting it just enough to once more erst her chin on the tops of her knees. A deep breath is taken, her shoulders tense as she speaks, "And if I said yes...?"
Savith watches Larias silently, eyes never wwavering from her form. HE listens to her words, leaning back on his hands. If she said yes... "I'd say thank you," he replies, musing it over, as if workin gout a script with her, for her. "Then probably try not to screw up again."
Larias hehs softly, her shoulders jumping slightly with the sound. "And what could you possibly do, that would 'screw up'? Once forgiveness is given, it can't be taken away." Can it? Not so far as she understands. With her thoughts weighing heavily on her, Larias's shoulders sag, that tenuous choke hold on the tie of souls loosening just a bit.
Savith grins faintly as Larias almost chuckles. "Any number of things, actually," he replies, tone less than flat and cold. "And no, it can't be taken away, but the trust gained from it, can be torn apart. As I'm sure you're aware, trust is abnormally hard to rebuild."
'Especially when it is yourself you can't trust.' The thought resounds loudly within her, as once again she moves to lay her head on her knees, arms wrapping snugly between calves and thighs - such a cute little glider ball she makes right now. Voice still s distilled of emotion as she can muster, Larias responds, "Trust is... something I don't find myself understanding anymore." Again, lips threaten to break that mask as the corners twitch upwards, "Perhaps I never did. Alone to long I suppose.How to deal with others, how to express, it hardly makes sense most of the time."
Savith nods. "Well, we are timeless," he replies softly. He pauses a moment, then lifts his gaze to her face again. "That's why you're not letting me in, huh? "
Larias swallows hard, pale eyes closing as her shoulders roll in a shrug. "No.. actually, thats not why." She pauses briefly, a deep breath taken, then let out slowly, "Its a mess in here. You'd not want to see or feel it right now." Her voice drops to but a bare whisper, "High Ones know, I certainly don't."
Savith nods, then moves to stand. "Well, some seem to think things are easier when shared, but I'm not going to press. IF you want to be alone, that's fine. I'm going over there until you're not going to mope on yourself." It's not said cruely, or coldly, just said. Here without anyone that's going to remmebr past a season or so, and no one that is really going to care, he's bit more open than in the mountain, or the village.
Ahh, but there is someone that will recall past a season or more :P The one he speaks to, she is as timeless as he, and older by how many turns of the seasons? Before he can stand, she reaches out in a quick smooth motion, a hand reaching out fumbling for one of his own. Her voice cracks as she speaks, "I.. didn't say, I wanted to be... alone."
Savith stops as Larias takes his hand. He pauses there a moment, looking down at her. Her voice cracks, and he waits anohter heartbeat longer, then he drops to sit at her side again. "You gave the impression," he comments, settling himself more comfortably. "We've been given a guest den for the winter, until you're feeling up to traveling again." He pauses, hand still in hers, and gives it a very subtle squeeze, an oddly affectionate gesture, "So I leave the decision to you, since that's whom this whole trip was for."
A sigh of relief is given as he once again settles down beside her. Odd perhaps, but she does not retract her hand, for the moment, taking a slight amount of comfort. "I could travel now," her voice trails off, hmm, yes, this is better, something to think about other than trying to sort herself out, "Its Rosendo I am not certain of, and their Healer, she may need... help."
Savith tilts his head. After all she's done... "Help? Do you think she will need a quick way to get to her birthplace?" Yes, he remembers her open sent dreams, and the wails they caused in the child.
"She may, it was Savah that finally was able to aid me in full..." Larias squeezes your hand once more before loosening the grip. If he were to loosen as well, her hand would fall, touching no more. "She is a Healer though, and perhaps that will be enough. She.. hadn't realized, why the dreams were there. I think the knowledge, may have given her strength."
Savith lets go fully only if Larisa let's go. Though as she loosens her grip, he starts to, before he decides that the slight lowerig her defenses at the light chatter, the physical contact is helping. So, he grips the grip, though light and firm all at once. He nods softly, "If asked, I'm sure we can find a way to accomidate her, though it may mean leaveing someone behind." Out the group, he's more inclided to leave Volek, but still, the decision will be hard, "It's that or I take her alone, and return.
A smile actually manages to make its way upon her face, albeit briefly, "Do you really think they would allow such Savith?" She sits fully upright, shaking her head, "I doubt they would be willing to trust her in your care for such a trip. Not as she is right now anyway." The smile fades, her head drops back down once more to rest on her knees, still she doe snot retract her hand. "Her dreams... High Ones Savith, she shared them all with me."
Savith shurgs, "I can offer, can't I? And to mae the trip as quick as possible, I'll travel alone. Surely they'll understand that with you all in their care, there is nothing I could do to harm her. Not and risk harm to you, and Mother, and Rosendo, and Volek." At her smile fades, and Larias drops her head again, he squeezes her hand gently again. He nods, at the knowledge, and almost seems to lean forward, "If there's somethign for you...."
"Something for me?" She turns her head to the side, cheek to her knees, regarding him thoughtfully, perplexed. Yes, she is relaxing... some.
Savith nods to Larias, sititng by her side just at the edge of hte shelter. They've yet to move into the guest Den (OOC: WHICH, btw, is inthe Hollow Tree where Piper and Darkedge live, than where I lead you the other day.). Savith's eyes hold a touch of concern for Larias. Hidden by the blankets over Larias's legs, and Savith's own crossed ones, the two are... GASP holding hands. "Yes. To help you."
Larias rolls her shoulders in the form of a shrug, "The dreams this time, they aren't mine.. But," Her eyes close, expression almost pained, "They remain thick in my mind. Her fears... My own, not altogether the same, not so different." She swallows hard once again, "And then, Reed's words." She halts in speaking, lips drawing into a tight thin line.
"Reed," Savith asks softly, not familar with the name. "Someone you met when you went to visit one of the dens?" Look, Ma! They aren't trying to kill each other!
Larias's voice is but a murmur, "A wolfrider maiden, standing guard, or being guarded along with Melisanda... I wasn't exactly sure." She doesn't say as to why she decided to seek out the Underworlder. "She, Llune and I spoke," the pause in her sentence hangs heavily before she continues, "briefly, though, it was educational."
High Ones, is Savith not happy to hear that name. She black sent him when he was all bound and stuff in the Main Hall. He licks his lips, a soft smack. "Melisanda. I see," he says, a touch cold again, then changes the subject, "Still hungry?"
Old habits, buried for so long, have to rear their ugly heads every now and again. Larias shakes her head, "No.. I don't think I should eat much." The cloudy blue eyes close in time for a yawn, "I don't dare right now. A full belly, and sleep will come." And what happened the last time she slept? Nightmares and a tree in the back, with poor Rosendo nearly caught somehow inthe midst - something she has no wish to repeat.
And that is enough to get Savith to make his decision, "Then let's get you and Rosendo into that guest den, where it's warm." If it's warm, Larias won't have to snuggle on him, and awake frightened. Another soft squeeze, "Show me where it is, and I'll get us moved in. At least, until whitecold is done." To the trolls with what Winnowill would want. Family comes first sometimes.
Larias lifts her head, brows furrowed, "Den... Oh, yes." She blinks back some of her wearyness, "We should move into the den if we are staying here." she looks up into the trees, eyes scanning for those that watch over the small odd family, "Now?"
Savith lifts a brow faintly, "Can oyu think of a better time?" One last, firm squeeze and he stays, and starts to break down camp. The guards sit up, looking over. Finally, something's going on.
Larias rises as well, the blanket dropping from her form as she does so. In silence, she begins to aide in the process of breaking camp as best she can. So much more for a camp than she ever bothered with, High ones, where will they store it all once tucked inside a wolfrider's den?
Where else? In travel packs. Anything not being used will be stored away until needed. First rule of travelling. "IS Rosendo with Mother?" And where is mother? Probably with Moonshade now?
Larias pauses in the folding up of blankets, her gaze moving towards the Holt, ** She, went to speak with one of their tailors I believe. ** A pause, ** And yes, she has Rosendo. I... am not much of a caretaker right now, though, she said she would bring him back when he was hungry. **
Savith nods, pausing as he feels what little pallable emotions Larias lets leak through to him. Blankets folding, he gets a thong and ties them into a package to drop into the bottom of a travel packet. "That's good." He was worrying.
Larias inwardly curses at herself, she sent, foolish thing that she is, gah! A glance at him, good, he doe snot appear to have picke dup on anything, whew! She finishes folding up the blanket, and then moves on to fold the rest, shaking off each before she does so, ending up with a small pile of folded glider bedding for her efforts. Once the bedding has all been shaken and folded, she rubs at her temple, High ones, this is giving her such a headache.
Savith gets all of the blankets packed away and looks about for anything else. He folds the few bits of clothing Llune has begun and left here for hte moment. Thankfully she's taken her cloth cutters with her, or he might have found them just now. "That's the last of it, I think." He looks over, "You seen anything we're missing?"
Larias glances about, even moving to see if anything is hiding under the blasted skirt of the Mountain dress Llune crafted for her. With a shake of her head, she replies, "No.. That should be it. If not, we can glide back to find and retrieve later."
Savith nods once, and hefts the pack. Once that's settled on his back, he reaches out the lift the other with his mind. "Sounds good to me," he says, voice a touch distracted as he focuses.
Even tired, lacking sleep, she knows she can handle more than she shoulders right now, and so, she extends her magic, encompassing the pack he lifts, helping to ease the load. Larias remains rooted to the ground, her brow breaking out with a light sheen of sweat at the effort, "You.. should lead the way. I'm not sure where we are going."
Savith nods. Turning, he hides the faint look of worry on his features from Larias. He doesn't know either. Not really. Oh, but Redlance, one of the guards, seeing them ready, leaps down to lead the way. **Here. I'll take you. Ned some fresh meat,** he asks softly, **Strongbow had some luck not long ago.** Savith nods, saying nothing.
Its not hard to hide looks sent her direction, she is, after all, actively avoiding meeting savith's gaze. As the wolfriders come down from the trees, she starts nervously, "Meat? Fresh.. yes, that would be good. First settle in." Her words are clipped, tight, her concentration on the floating pack.
Thoughtful, Tyleet moves over to Larias, "Can I help?" Savith follows Redlance as the tracker leads the way to the Hollow Tree and the Guest Den, not hte Visitor's Den. My bad!
Larias gives the smaller elf maiden a shake of her head, as well as a forced light smile, "Distractions good right now." That said, she follows after her Recognized and the red haired plant shaper.
[trabel spam removed]
Hill
Standing atop the slope, you have an incredible view of the SilverRun river, to the west of the holt and to the Northeast you see the huge branches of the immense father tree in the distance, reaching upward to the sky. The land here rises softly in a gentle slope, then drops off steeply to the river bank which hems in the western side of the holt.
Standing atop the slope, you have an incredible view of the SilverRun river, to the west of the holt and to the Northeast you see the huge branches of the immense father tree in the distance, reaching upward to the sky.. The land here rises softly in a gentle slope, then drops off steeply to the river bank which hems in the western side of the holt. The land around you is covered over with brown and drying grass, dotted here and there with colorful stray leaves from the neighboring trees. It is a cool autumn evening. You hear hushed noises as the holt slowly comes to life as elves and wolves awaken from their daytime slumber.
Redlance, Lostholt's treeshaper, leads a pair of gliders from their poolside camp. Savith's got a pack on his back, and shares a burden with Larias over a larger one. Tailing the group is Redlance's daugher Tyleet. As they move, Savith takes a moment to locate Volek and Llune with his mind to inform them of the move.
Larias's steps are nearly silent, though her feet do touch the ground. A light sheen of sweat is on her brow, the beads slowly growing in size as she stares at the bag floating between her and the other tall one. She looks tierd, worn out, as if she hasn't slept enough of late.
[more travel removed]
Guest Den
Lostholt's guest den is slightly larger than the dens of the normal denizens of the holt. There are four or five alcoves shaped into the sides of the den for sleeping in. Each has its own fair share of warm furs for the use of the various guests that find themselves here. There are also a few shaped stools to sit upon and various shelves and pegs shaped into the walls for the guests to keep their cloaks and other personal items upon.
With Tyleet and Redlance guiding the way, the trip isn't a very long one. Though both gliders had to duck to enter the tree, the guest den seems to accommodate them sufficiently, if cozily. Bowing out the two leave the gliders with some privacy which they haven't had since their arrival. Larias almost immediately collapses onto a pile of furs - not like when she passed out before, but a graceless exhausted heap of a glider, foomping into a comfortable warm pile of furs. The light sheen of sweat has turned into beads, even her dress is slightly damp by the exertion of floating the pack - this is what she gets for sleepless nights, blocking herself from the world, and of course, trying to float something.
Privacy. No one here but them. And so, Savith watches Larias collapse, concern very clearly visible on his face. Leaving the pack where they are, he takes one step toward her, sending, **Larias?** Oh, but the freedom privacy allows, and there's some actual, and geniune emotion. My, my.
Larias pushes herself into an upright position, one hand wiping the sweat from her brow. A faint frown trying to come to surface. She speaks, not daring to send right now, her eyes not daring to look up at him either, "Yes..." a pause and she answers the unspoken question, "I'll be fine."
Savith nods. He looks her over a moment, about ot say more when Redlance returns with that promised fresh meat. Sensing the odd tension in the air, he wordlessly hands the ravvit pair over, a soft smile, as if to say, 'Feed your mate, silly bird.' Savith flicks a brow at Redlance, then gives a faint nod and floats hte ravvit over before turning away. Within the tied ravvit, between their still warm bodies, is a small dagger, sharp enough to cut hte flesh open, and going unnoticed by Savith in his concern for Larias. "Will you eat now?"
Larias is so close to saying no, her mouth opening, drawing breath to speak the word, but then. She nods, frowning as she thinks of Rosendo, if she doesn't eat, neither does he. Again a hand moves to rub at her temple, the head ache from her exertions settling in for a nice long stay. With a light sigh she speaks, "I, will eat some, yes. For Rosendo."
Savith nods, leaving the ravvits for Larias as he turns to unpack them for a lengthy stay for whitecold. As he works his brows draw together. GAH! This whole family thing is hard man!
Larias scoots towards a place on the floor where the stains of past meals reside. She frowns, looking at the ravvits wondering exactly how she is going to go about this with no knife, High ones know she's done it before, but really, that was long desperate eons ago. But then, tired eyes spy the gifted dagger. With deft practised motions, the first ravvit is sliced open, and a few choice pieces are cut, and eaten. Hee, if only Llune could see Larias now, blood on her chin and fingers, carcass still warm before her.
Back to Larias, Savith sets the unused packs away on shelves, and eyes their travel food. Er.. the crumbs of their trvael food. He's got to get his weapons back, and permission to hunt. He's not willing ot rely on the wolfriders for everything. He takes his time putting everything away, then turns to regards Larias, only then spotting the blade. He glances at hte doorway, then back to Larias. Nice one, Redlance. Nice. He walks over softly, crouching, "After this, I think some sleep will help, if you can. And if you think those nightmares will haunt again, you have only to ask."
Larias slices out the liver, making quick work of cutting it into small bite sized pieces. She pauses at the offer, glancing up, "They are not my dreams to share Savith." Another crack forms in the wall between her and her Recognized when she speaks his name. She swallows looking up at him as he crouches near by, though one again, quickly looking away.
Savith purses his lips, "That's not a concern for me." He pauses, pressing with mind and voice, just lightly, as he senses that crack, "You are."
Larias's head hangs low, the food forgotten, as is the knife still held in her hand. Slow steadying breaths are drawn in, only to be haggardly breathed out again. Weakly she inquires, "And if its not just her nightmares I hold from you?" Is that worry in her voice? Nerves stretched thin and tight, mind busy with to many thoughts. Another crack in the dam, a flood pushing behind.
Savith quirks a brow, not reaching for Larias, "She shared more?" A pause, "How kind you are, to hurt yourself for another." Then he stands and moves to see if Larias's sleeping area has enough blankets to warm her and the child. "But hte offer stands, none the less."
Larias looks down at her hands, oh yes, she holds back more than just the healers nightmares, her own nightmares, her own, what? A shake of her head, the knife set next to the barely dissected cooling ravvit carcass. Eventually, she lifts her head, following Savith's movements as he sets the den up, musing, for another yes, but not the one you think. With effort, she rises, eyes closing as the room threatens to spin, but then it steadies and she opens her eyes, "I.. should go. See if Rosendo needs me for anything." Ah yes, ever the one to flee/
Kucky Savith didn't see her sway, but as he turns, and sees just how tired she is, he shakes his head, "No, Larias. You lay down and rest. I'll fetch him for you." And give you your privacy, if you need it, as it seems.
A frown forms at the notion, she can't leave? Muddied thoughts ooze to the forefront of her mind slowly, but if he leaves, she will be alone, and that, is a feeling she doesn't want right now. A clearer strain of thought kicks wildly - then open up to him stupid! You don't have to be alone anymore, he'll be there, always if you let yourself feel, let him feel. So careful before with her expression, the war is plain on her face, with each breath the force of will keeping her from feeling him cracks, crumbles, shudders and shakes. A heavy leaden footstep brings her closer, "No.. don't. Stay, please?" Yes, there we go, if he's near by, the walls can be in place, can't they?
Savith was making his way towrd the door, but the war on Larias's face holds him in place. He watches her fight with herself, brows furrowed. Feeling the cracks, he refuses to press on them this time, letting her be. Her moves closer, just one step, and so, he too moves to her, bringing him much closer quickly as he nods. "Of course," he replies, "Then I will send for Mother, if you so want Rosendo near."
Larias gives a quick shake of her head, if its to clear the war in her mind, or negate her earlier desire to get Rosendo, who knows. She mutters something under her breath, eyes once again casting down to the floor. High Ones, what does she think she's doing? "I.. should sit, I think." Praise be, a coherent thought!
Savith nods to Larias, reaching to offer his arm to steady herself with, but remembering, he does not touch. "Here, to the alcove, and tell me if there are enough blankets to warm you." Cause unless you ask, he's not going to sleep with you. So there!
Larias drifts towards the alcove as directed, her feet taking her to the pile of blankets and furs, and when the hard floor of the tree turns into squishy soft blankets, she drops down, at first sitting up, but quickly floomping backwards. So much warmer than it was outside, and Llune's dress, though wet with perspiration from earlier, isn't enough to annoy her at the moment. "Fine.. the blankets are fine.," she mutter mumbles.
How sweet Savith is, to gently pull a few blanket sup to cover Larias, tuck her in almost, then to sit, floating if he must, to stay level with Larias. He nods, forcing his tone light, "Good." Hmm. now what?
Larias moves deeper down into the blankets as they are pulled over her, how hard is it to stay awake when the body warms up to a nice toasty level. Every step of the way she fights it, almost like one having fever dreams, she mumbles to some unseen presence, "Reed said it was possible. She did." A pause, "If she can, does that mean so can I?"
Savith just sits, listening. If she wants a reply, he murmurs softly, "If you want, you can." What she's talking about, he doesn't know, but agreeing is usually best with a sleeping person. Now, to get that dress off so Llune doesn't fret. When she's dead asleep, he'll use his magic to get it done, then find a way to curtain the area.
The form under the blankets still abruptly, again that feeling of something within her cracking, opening up shudders, 'permission given, and with his voice?' Its as if a part of her soul leaps for joy, dashing towards that choking self-centered self-preservationist mindset.
Savith is at a lost. What the heck did this Reed DO, anyway? His brows furrow, dress forgotten as he barely feels the turmoil within. Refraining from touch, he whispers, "What's going on with you? What can I do?
Though the form below the blankets makes a response to the whispered question, its hard to decipher exactly what it is - after all, she's managed to burrow under for warmth. A hand moves below the blanket, searching for something? Within, a battle rages, spilling over the edges into that tenuous line which seems to grow and shrink, then grow again. The need to protect herself, not just herself, but her very soul, she can't give over and lose all. But, a flicker of something else spills out as well, something more than mere caring for the one who is now a part of her, uncertain and unsure though she may be about it, its still there.
Savith watches Larias, sensing at the odd odd ripples in the bond between them. He hasn't placed such boundaries, letting her erect walls as she needed, and reforcing against dark thoughts, in hopes to spare her their weight. Seeing the blankets shift, he reaches out to smooth them again. "Shh... rest," he says softly. Well. He could sing that lullabye, couldn't he? If it worked for Rosendo... Ah, heck. There's no one else here, and he starts at a hum.
As the hum reaches her ears, the form below the blankets does indeed settle. Though only outwardly, body stilled, her mind sparking, warring with itself. The tenderness of her Recognized only serves to reinforce one half of her wants, while the other calls it little more than a ruse, he'll trick you again, cage you again. Another murmur below the blankets, "So... it matters not now.."
Savith shakes his head sadly as he adds light words to the melody, that same lullabye for Rosendo. 'Poor Larias,' he thinks silently, 'Bad dreams again? Nothing I do helps, does it? Ah, what a matched set. You torture yourself as I do.'
A hand move sup and out of the blankets, pushing the material down under her chin. Pale brows are furrowed deeply, her forehead pursed, but Larias's eyes are closed, and tightly. The visible hand grips into a fist, then unclenches, only to clench again. A muttered word, "Free?" and she rolls abruptly onto her other side.
Savith continues singing softly, watching his Recognized toss and turn. Whens he settles, he dares to nearly touch, brushing a hand just over Larias's temple, using magic to brush the hair from her face. That done, his hand drops to rest near by, but doesn't move to take her hand again, not realizing she may be looking for it. "... Right now all you know to fear, are the shadows on your wall... And I'm here, close enough, to kiss the tears you cry... And I will sing, my Angel's lullabye..."
Larias's furrowed brows relax slightly at the almost touch, the bare whisper of magic moving hair gently. Her hand moves forward, relaxed, the fist no longer there, brows furrowing slightly once again as she knows something is there which she can not find. Her breathing becomes deep and even, and with the words, sung so sweetly, a dam created by herself bursts, a broiling sea of emotions, neatly tucked away flooding senses.
You sense in a locksend, Larias's wall crumbles rapidly as the words of the lullabye reach her sleep deprived, slumbering mind, eerything she has been holding back washes through, anger, fear, worry, terror ride the first waves, but behind, a sea of calmer emotions and feelings, trust, care, awe, and, flickering on the horizon love.
Savith's song stumbles at the flood of emotions. He leans to the bed area to steady himself, pressing more weight to that spot where his hand is. Anger lashes through, washed down by a cold shot of fear, quickly faned by worry, to be shaken by terror. The calmer emotions leave his near breathless, the trust soothing hurts, the care easing tensions, the awe giving him strength, and love... He's only felt this kind of emotion from his mother. And the lullabye is ended. Savith can't remember where he was... Ah... Blinking his eyes back to focus, he peers down at Larias, eyes widened slightly.
Larias's brows relax entirely, her hand finding that place where weight is though she does not open her eyes, or even wake up to seek it out. The touch is light, the grip barely there, another flood of the calmer lighter emotions roll off the sleeping elfess. Whatever Reed told her, coupled by the lullabye - oy, High Ones help her when she wakes.
Savith watches at Larias takes his hand. He hesitates a moment, then he turns his hand over to grip her hand more firmly. Unblocked to her, Savith feels those lighter emotions. So much like his mother's. Calming, soothing. And fatigue threatens again. But he shakes his head, and forces himself to stay awake, and restarts the lullabye again. By the High Ones, he's going to finish it this time.
[FTB with fast forward to waking up]
The hours pass without noise. Llune's come in silently, keeping the baby and bundles herself into warm warm furs. Llune's done good, taking Moonshade's advice of giving him simple fruit juice to tide him over, and after the long day out and about, the babe still sleeps. Savith himself, after fighting sleep for a few hours, ended up dropping fully to the ground himself, falling foward to double over himself, face near Larias's shoulder, nose in fur.
The only problem with tiding a baby over with fruit juice, is the effects it has on the mother, missed feedings is something bodies don't care for. Though she's not slept nearly enough to make up for the time she forced herself to stay awake, stretching herself thin. And the headache she now has, is proof of that over extension. Brows furrow, but oh, its warm and she really doesn't want to stir yet. A pressing need urges her forward towards wakefulness, though she goes to move hand, s se can drape that arm over her eyes, blcoking out any trace of light, hence blocking out some of the headache - or so she hopes.
Savith is ... um... laying on .. said hand, heavy with sleep.
Larias ehs, she's not hand her arm stuck the ground before. Strangely, no panic sets in this time, her eyes flutter open, her head lifting so she can see exactly what she's done to get her arm stuck. Blink! That sight gives her pause. A ginger send, ** Savith? **
Savith mutters, "hmm... not yet. Still sleepy." mutter mutter grumble. He shifts a bit, not at all comfortable. But there's something about the send, and after a moment, his eyes drift open. **?**
Larias send murmurs, ** Sit up.. please? Just a moment. ** A pause, confusion filters into her eyes, she sent to him, there are no more walls. Her eyes grow wide, High Ones, what did she do. With cheeks growing to a scarlet shade, she waits, waiting to move her arm.
Savith nods and pushes himself up, rubbing at his eyes. "Ah... sorry," he glances about as he settles to his heels, "...Ddint' mean to fall asleep."
Larias flexes long thin fingers as the blood rushes back to her arm. A sideliong glance is given Savith, her cheeks burning, ** You.. must have needed it, like I did. **
Sleep rubbed from his eyes, he keeps his expression neutral, almost willing himself not to feel rather than build walls to hold things back, "Yes, but I might to give you space, and I don't seem to have done that."
Larias moves to an upright sitting position, some of the rings under her eyes have dispersed, though not all of them, the green velvet sticking to her as it was damp with sweat when she fell asleep. A long moment she regards Savith before Larias sends, ** perhaps I did not want space? ** not from you anyway.
That stops him. Savith thinks about it a moment, but instead of commenting, he turns to collect Rosendo, "You wanted him?
Larias reaches out to collect the child, rising into the air after she does so. A tickle and a bit of a poke, and he wakes, gurgling. "Are you hungry little one? I certainly hope you are." She doesn't even bother to trn her back anymore, after so many wolfriders watching her all the time, whats the point. And so, the laces on the dress are undone, and the child is held to suckle. She glides towards the door of the den, ** I.. need to get some air, and he will be dirty shortly after he eats. ** The unsentrequest, will you join her?
Savith draws himself up fully, and nods in answer to the unsent request. The hint that the child will be dirty is enough. After all, Larias doesn't like clean up duty. Looks like someone cleaned up the ravvits from teh night before, for they and the dagger are gone.
Larias slips out of the den after noting the nod, gliding silently all the way.
[travel spam removed]
Forest Path
The path circumvents the holt proper, used mostly by the elves for travel to the woods behind the great Father tree. The path is now choked with gaily colored leaves of gold and red that crunch beneath your feet as you walk and leaves flutter softly to the ground. Clinging vines hang dying from the trees lining the pathways and small scurrying animals can be heard from under the huge piles of leaves. It is a cool autumn night, perfect for a hunt or perhaps a howl.
Save for the rustle of long skirts, the two gliders emerge from the Hollow Tree more silent than even a wolfrider. That is, until the sound of a happily suckling infant echoes through the quiet forest. The female, looks tired, but somewhat rested and confused.
Well the male floats silently at her side, looking rested, and confused as well. Dressed as a Chosen, Savith's weaponless and helmetless.
A tall figure, bulking larger than the elves, moves among the trees. NOT silently. In fact, toneless humming can be heard at irregular intervals when movement pauses.
Larias so ready to actually smile, for once, perplexed at being relaxed - she come sup short, hovering about half a foot off the ground once she catches the noise. It desn't take long for her to spy the source of the noise, and when she does spy it, her eyes grow wide - how long has it been since she's seen one of those!
Savith turns to look at the noise as well, defensive in this land of enemies and dangers. A troll. Not immeditately a threat, but with an infant... He moves subtly to put himself between Larias and Chisel, but his motions remain loose, and fluid, not screaming his intention or worries that surely Larias can feel. Waiting until the troll spots them, he nods, "Greetings."
A troll comes into clear sight. A small one. Without warts. Chewing the end of a charred stick absently as he considers something on a bit of leather in his hand. This is the source of the off-key music. At Savith's greeting, the troll looks up and pauses, taking them in. Tall as Darkedge and pale too. Hm.. but flying? That's something new. Lifting the hand holding the stylus, he says with his usual offhanded manner. "Hi there." The infant catches his attention, being the one making noise. "New here are you?" he asks for all the world of Two Moons like a member of the holt himself. :P His eyes stray to the young elf. Why.. that one's even smaller than little Redstar.
Indeed, the babe suckling at his mother's teat is barley three moon phases in age. And even small when compared to others that might be of an age with him. Larias cradles the infant a bit tighter, though, her expression has turned more curious, than wary or nervous. "We..." She looks around, then responds simply, "Yes, here, we are new."
"And yourself," Savith asks, voice haunting. He's not so tall as Darkedge, though Larias is, if you stand them side to side, a full inch taller than the overprotective underworlder. The Chosen eyes the stylus a moment, then finds it not a weapon of significant threat, and so continues regarding the troll, touching minds with Larias briefly, **Troll.**
Chisel finds a handy tree to prop himself against. "The name is Chisel," he introduces blithely. "The entrance to the kingdom of the Southern Trolls isnt far from here." So technically, you COULD say I live here. Or rather.. under here. Noting the protective stance of the male - yes, that one's male. The other has the babe so.. - Chisel relaxes and sticks the stylus behind one ear and the map back in his belt pouch. (What is it with male elves with females or young? Are they all overly protective?)
Larias smirks at the back of Savith's head, of course she knows its a troll silly, its just rare to spy one on the surface, and in a wolfrider holt no less. She offers the troll a nod as greeting, and responds in kind to the introduction, "I am .. Larias." Where some might chafe from the over protective nature of her Recognized, herself included, for once, she doesn't ask him to move, happily keeping Savith between herself and Chisel.
Savith watches Chisel a moment until Larias says her name, then he adds, "Savith."
Larias studies the troll rather closely, ok, so he's not quite the make or model that she last saw, you know, the huge trolls which wield crossbows and swords meant for slicing through elves? Self assured, she glides around Savith, her words soft so as not to disturb the babe in her arms, "What brought you here? It is rare to see one of your kind above."
Chisel tries to peer at the tiny elf in the female's arms - no, NOT the exposed teat, the babe! - surreptitiously. "Oh, I trade with Cutter's folk. Metal and jewels for meat and furs. Darkedge likes our brew." Nevermind that the trolls harvest dreamberries from the surface to MAKE the brews. We're not in the import/export business, but an honest to goodness straight barter, eh? Let's not complicate things. "And what are you here for? Gonna stay long?" What ARE you? is left unsaid.
Savith floats with Larias, staying at her side. As diplomatic as he was ordered to be, it is Larias that has a way with the locals. He regards Chisel, studying him, not having been one of the Chosen when Voll flew to the Frozen North, and to his death.
Larias glances at Savith, hrm, he's gone awfully quiet. She adjust the child so her bosom is fully coverd by babby head, her cheeks turning pink after noting where the troll's gaze lingered. She coughs once, Rosendo's arms flaggling s she does so, then once again settling down as he happily eats. "Ah.. we, will be here for a short time. We came.. to visit."
Larias is a great liar, really she is =)
Chisel notes the blush and jerks his gaze away. "Uh.. yours?" he asks, waving a stubby, green hand to indicate the child and looking at Savith now.
Larias turns her eyes to regard Savith, a light hint of a smile daring to appear, "No.. he is ours."
Savith is about to nod, but as Larias speaks he glances over at her. There's a flicker at his brows. This is new. First time she's openly said that, and... is that a smile? His lips twitch, though whether to smile back or sneer it's hard to say. Instead he turns back to Chisel and nods, confriming Larias's words, "Yes. Ours."
How charming. Chisel rather surmised that the babe would be Larias' *smirks* which is why he asked Savith. Well. It's touching that they claim equal and mutual ownership. As is often the case in dealing with elves, Chisel suspects he's missing some byplay here. The trick is, dear trolls, to ignore it.
Pondering a moment, Larias runs through the list of items the troll said he traded in, with the LostHolt elves. Another glimmer of a smile appears, "You said you trade in metals, yes? What kind exactly?"
Savith flicks another glance, followed with a thought at Larias, **Hoping to trade some of mother's outfits for a blade or two?**
The little troll perks up. "Well." He reaches for a small leather-wrapped handle beside his belt-pouch and pulls out a small knife. The blade catches moonlight, chasing it along the edge. "Greymetal for the most part."
Larias chuckles softly, glancing at Savith, ** Somehow I doubt this.. Chisel, would find much use in one of Llunes dresses. I do think they would be more than a bit snug on him. ** High ones, is she actually showing a sense of humor? ** I am curious ** She switches to speaking one more, eyes now upon the troll, "And what do you take in trade for such things?"
And Savith brings a hand to his mouth, to hide the snerk and near chortle that threatens to escape. A troll.. in a glider's dress. he coughs a moment, and bites his tongue, shooting a jab at Larias, light and gentle, **High ones, Larias! Don't make me laugh!**
Chisel shoots Savith an alarmed look at the male elf's odd paroxyms. Firstcomers, please not another protective male who is against the female trading and such. "Leathers and furs. Fresh meat. Sometimes, medicines," he repeats a bit slowly now, with care.
Larias ahhs softly and nods, smiling. She looks down, oh, wonderful, Rosendo's done.She turns in the air, back to the troll and sets Rosendo before her, floating much as she does. The lacings on the dress are redone and the boy plucked from the air, now set to shoulder for burping. "Are there.. particular ailments you would need to see treated.. So, should I wish to trade, I will have something in need, rather than something your kind do not use."
Savith ducks his head until he's more in control of himself, then lifts his gaze to Chisel once more. Though guarded his eyes are not distrustfully cold. He stands, silent, letting Larias make her trade arrangements.
Ah.. now he can look at the babe without danger of getting decked by the male! Chisel notes how even the young one floats. Fascinating. To Larias' question, he shrugs. "Stomach ailments. Wet noses." Those are the common ones. For anything more serious, they never really know what will strike.
Larias nods one, smiling to herself, "Then, next time you bring your goods, if I am still here. I will make a trade with you." What tht trade is, she doe snot say.
Chisel makes a little bow, oddly suave for a bullky figure that he is. "And what goods does the lady seek?" he asks, switching to trade talk.
