leith
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Post by leith on Mar 5, 2017 17:17:05 GMT -8
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ daylight was a heavy thing on the mahogany mottled owl. It had flown far the previous night, just like the night before, and the one before that. The fey touched creature didn’t have its own territory. The avian hunter merely roamed, perchance in search of something? That, though, would suggest there was more to the owl than merely feathers, beak, and claws. these woods held an allure to the owl, though being a mere bird, the creature didn’t and couldn’t fathom why. There simply was a draw, and the owl’s wings followed. It could have been the essence of elven magic in the land, where the fey-cursed owl would have a parallel connection. Late sunlight warmed over beige feathers while the owl glided, tired, and hazy. Was there something the bird needed here? A mouse? A spot to rest seemed the most reasonable to the creature. So tired, though. So the bird hovered to a stop on a low branch that hung over a path in the woods. The branch was low enough that a person on a horse would have to dodge it, an unlikely location for nightly predators like that owl. “Who?” It questioned the lonely air, but the animal didn’t have an answer. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- For the past few miles, the weathered looking bowman seamlessly weaved between the line of trees, eyes focused upon the fatiguing owl who glided about. He bided his time, letting the minutes tick by. He had been tracking this nocturnal creature for a reason. Why? Because within this passing light, where the sun created speckles through the canopied trees he recognized profit when he saw it. This bird was rare and would be valued for its feathers. Signs of his collecting were seen in the knapsack he held over his shoulder, little talons stuck upside down at the top of the bag giving indication that he had been hunting down several types of birds. Within a nearby region, locals had put up a small bounty for the collection of certain feathers and gizzards for ceremonial and traditional beliefs. So far, his venture into this unknown woodland was profitable. Though, it was now as the bird settled onto a low branch that he crouched down amongst the forestry, fetching one of his feathered arrows from his quiver. Steadying his arrow, he nocked it off from its rest and the arrow sped forth. His approach took advantage of the owl's exhausted state, hoping to disable it from flying as he aimed towards one of its winged arms. {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ the owl fluffed its mottled feathers after landing, relieved to have some rest on that low branch. Sunbeams angled late into the day, fading out as the sun was setting. Dark eased in along creeping shadows. The owl lifted a wing to ruffle its beak through its down beneath that limb, when a sudden whooshing sound gave alarm too late. the arrow struck true through the owl’s wing, who let out a pained screech while the momentum of the arrow felled the bird from its branch. The healthy wing flapped frantically, but there was no flight for the falling owl, and the movement only caused more pain where the arrow protruded through the other wing. “Donnally—Donnally—“ its hoots called, as if an owl could hoot a name to answer its earlier “Who?” It fell, hard to the ground, though still fought to move, without a plan. In the gloaming darkness after the sun had set, shadows lay long over where the bird had dropped. A testament to the archer’s skill, his range had been far enough that he would have to approach to witness what lay now in the new night’s shadow. For he would not now find the owl he sought to collect, but a whimpering, naked girl, with an arrow through her arm. The fey curse transitioned the owl to Donnally’s true form as she had neared the revealing shades of death by that arrow. The true form was in fact a smallish woman, with mahogany hair the color of the owl’s feathers. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- There were a variety of sounds which inhabited forests during the day; the occasional crunch of leaves or sticks by a deer, an overly twittering bird, a brook with the gentle sounds of water lapping against pebbles and yet amongst these numerous natural occurrences there was one that was not. The hooting of an owl. By nightfall, such a majestic creature usually prowled the darkness but here they were. Sitting upon a low branch, preening and resting in the light of day, out in the complete open where any could attack them. As far as Leith understood of the situation, the bird either had some impairment or was previously disturbed from their nest by an outside predator. Then again, he now thought to go with the first idea as this mahogany feathered one refused to rest until now, perhaps they were confused. Either way, already more than a few miles in, the ranger thought he was doing the poor thing justice by taking its life as the bird looked on, hooting into the developing eve. After his arrow struck its intended target, the archer moved up from his crouched position, and commenced his steadied footfalls. What happened next caught him by surprise, he who had spent great time in the woods came had now come upon something that was only in wives tales. What the hell was just said again? Don...aly? Donely? What was thought to be a well earned hunt now turned the winds of the forests into a different direction. The prize he sought laid strewn before him. Certainly not some panicking owl with an arrow through its wing, instead, it was an unclothed girl...with his arrow through her arm. Picking up his foot, he lightly kicked at the young thing, staring hard, "... .." He was a man of little word but this situation had him speaking, tone low and unused, it cracked, "Are you a trickster?" Normally, a person would have upped and helped the individual they struck but he had been around for awhile. As Leith awaited a response, he knelt beside the writhing girl and dropped his weapons behind him, sliding them a certain distance from the injured one. He would certainly help but to blindly put faith in the forest around you was not considered smart. {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ Donnally couldn’t remember the last time she was human, for the fey curse had held her in the feathery bindings of the owl for a long time. Though, the span of time between then and now was not the first thing on her mind while she writhed and whimpered, and deeply dazed. The fall stunned her, true, but having gone for so long now with wings instead of arms, and taking in the world through the owl’s keen senses to now return to her native human was also jarring. Her eyelids remained squinted closed with pools of tears welling up around her ducts and lashes, a few escaping down her freckled cheeks. She rocked there on that cool path, leaves catching in her mahogany hair and sticking to her skin in places, and to the blood that seeped from that deep wound through her arm, around the shaft of the arrow. How or why this all had happened were lost to Donnally, as the transformation process itself was bewildering enough that she would not piece together that the approaching figure might have shot her from her branch. She only bore a naïve sort of trust, whimpering sounds almost forming words she could slightly remember to form with this mouth. “…hel…ohhoh…p…me...” mewled the fallen creature turned lassie. The good hand had fretted over the hurt arm, but reached for the man as he loomed. Even then, cornflower eyes opened wide and bright against the gloom of the settling evening. She didn’t understand or maybe even process his question, but every smart wanderer was good to question the strange occurrences in a wild and foreign woodland, especially so when one was filled with elven or fey magic. Maybe she was a trickster, because her appearances were too innocent and fair, and her manifestation too much from the realm of the weird and eerie. Still, feather-light fingers reached for the ranger, clasping feebly at the fabric of his coat if he didn’t shirk away. If she found purchase, the wounded former owl, now maiden, would try to drag herself closer, desperate for shelter and aid against the pain. “Donnally…” she murmured through a rising whimper, the same name the owl had called as it fell. Her mind was gradually remembering what it was to exist as a human, along with it, words. “…my arm…” she yelped in an unsteady contralto. Though, her arm being a problem was obvious. The other major problem was: could *she* be trusted? it wasn’t every night an unknown naked woman fell from the trees clutching to a man in the wilderness after all. Trickster? She remembered him asking this. “…no…pleaaase…” she mewled, curling closer if he dared let her. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- As soon as the sun set, the shadows moved amongst the trees, creating an array of color. Golds, purples, and oranges painted themselves against the sky until the atmosphere above began to dim, leaving way for the stars to emerge. And yet, whilst light turned to darkness, that natural phenomena of nature did not interest the bowman rather those dark eyes with light hazel flecks focused upon the wriggling naked one upon the mossy forest floor. Half of Leith was tempted to haul this creature around by the hair and drag them about to field an answer from their lips but only tears sprang from this…owl turned girl. Help it mewled, its vocals imitating the sounds of a young woman -- he did not advance and continued to kneel beside her, gaze looking over the questionable youth whose form came to tremble no doubt from her pain and bewilderment which touched her body in uncontrolled spasms. Was she indeed truly female? No magic stemmed from him; born human and would die human. From his vantage, the ranger saw that the arrow was a clean cut right through her arm, bone -was surely grazed, tissue damaged. He estimated it went right through when her body took to transforming into this nymphlike lassie with creamy, freckled skin. Those wide cornflower eyes of hers reminded him of something -- naivety or what was assumed to be the mimicry of such. Upon her reaching out for the fabric of his leather coat, he flinched, and prepared to draw his dagger until he stilled hearing her euphonious once again, calling out to him, presenting her name, and then ultimately yelping in pain afterwards...again. Steadying his hand, the archer instead let out a low grunt of disapproval but did not shy away. In fact, he actually hovered over the shaking girl and provided aid by grabbing hold of her arm. "...stop moving." His tone was direct and terse, holding the young thing to him as he bent over her, face show disappointment when he took hold of the arrow by its end, fingers running over the fletching until a loud snap of wood was heard. Inch by inch, the arrow was removed from her flesh, until he angled it in a way which would remove it with quick precision. Blood now came forth from the wound but he reached into his pockets to procure clean linen, wiping some unknown salve of his own creation upon the open wound to stave off any building infections, and wrapped her arm appropriately. "Leith." He said quietly afterwards, offering to drape his coat in over her head, now attempting to drag her up from the ground -- that is if she did not fight back against him. {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ there was no way for Donnally to know the levels of caution and defensive measures going on through the archer’s mind. If he thought her some fairy trick, he could have snapped her neck so easily within reach, or taken a knife to her throat or heart. He could have strangled her, too, which might have blocked her from chanting any charms at him if she really were fey. Though the looming archer measured his situation, and took the calculated risk in instead offering to help the wounded, frail thing beside him. Her feet kicked and ground along the path as an outlet for pain, so that her legs, too, lightly flailed. Meanwhile, she had continued to reach to this sole possible savior, knowing no one else and no other means to rectify the ruinous night. She may have lain there to bleed out and die under night’s dark, or taken by scavenging predators without the strength or knowledge to defend herself so close to the bewildering transformation back into her humanity. He was, by a twist of fate, all that she now had, to her muddled recollection. The archer’s shadow stretched over her as he loomed, and she took as much fabric as she could clutch in that frail clasp, wrinkling it all up while her freckled knuckles whitened. He bid her to be still, and she whined and writhed a last turn, but trusted to what brief guidance she was given, burrowing the side of her face into the archer’s clothing now, too. His work with the arrow had been smooth and efficient, so when the snap of the arrowhead on one end occurred, and the careful but knowledgeable draw of the shaft out of her arm followed, the closing echo of her trilling shriek (similar, in ways, to an owl’s) was still only dissipating from the air. It had been a short, sudden outcry, but the salve the archer applied to the wound had a strong analgesic effect that numbed the misery in her limb to more tolerable degrees. She hadn’t watched, nor did she look at the binding, but nonetheless her arm had been improved as best it could be under the circumstances. instead, the freckles of the girl’s nose and cheeks brushed back and forth against the man’s attire beneath the coat he was already draping over her head. He would find she was becoming a naïve growth attached to his torso, where he would either have to peel her away and leave her there on the road, or accept his fate to carry her elsewhere. If he found civilization, how would he explain bearing this strange, naked lass from the woods? Admitting to shooting her from a tree might draw undesirable suspicion upon him, too. He dragged her up from the ground, choosing the latter fate, and found himself with the fey-cursed Donnally naked in his arms, burrowing all the further under his jacked the best she could with each passing moment. It would be a crime to the truth of the situation to deem any of the strange fate sensual. It was strange, bewildering, and in its ways, reservedly comedic. “’Leith.’” She repeated as she calmed, borne up from the path by the very archer who felled her whilst in owl form. “…I might have died without you, Leith,” she mumbled from beneath his coat, mahogany hair bunching and arching up annoyingly close to his mouth, perchance tickling in an annoying way at the height of his neck, below the jawline. The truth was, she might have *lived* without him, too, if he hadn’t shot her. But she didn’t know that, and in the longer scheme of things, she might have died in a different way had she not been jarred from the owl form. She might have forgotten she was ever human at all if too much more time passed while bound in that prison of feathers. “Go raibh maith aga…” she murmured with less freneticism. She didn’t know what it meant anymore, she had forgotten, but it felt right to make those sounds, it was not a charm, nor a spell. It was an Irish thank you, and nothing more magical than that. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- All things he could and would have done but there was something about the naïve, freckled sylvan woman which had him lessening his hold on his ground. Hands gingerly continued their work in overseeing her wounds, tightening the linen and adding extra salve between the layers to let it soak in through before ultimately adding one more layer to protect her open wound from the outside elements. Her meager attempted words had been previously inscrutable but she somehow managed to string together some known common as made it known that her name was Donnally -- origin of the name unknown to Leith. This owl he previously rendered to be unintelligible just minutes ago, was now some comely, perplexing lassie whose wide gaze spoke of her apprehension towards the approaching ranger…her face now buried into his leathers; great. She would smell previously burnt firewood upon him, the dampness of the forests, and the overall permeating scent that was acquainted with leathers. The archer’s gaze shown his own solidity over the scenario when she came to calm her nerves in his presence, a a sigh of irritation coming when he held up his arrow within the air seeing it streaked with the other’s blood and completely broken beyond measure. These types of unique arrows were not easy to come upon, of course, he wouldn’t let that bog down his thoughts and he refocused his visage upon the young thing which, much to his displeasure, brushed up against his attire once he relinquished his leather coat to her like some needy cat. “…no.” His answer was simple enough, low placid tone projecting enough that he did not wish for this lass to cling to him so but how could he leave her out here anyway? An owl was easy to leave alone but a young naked woman in the middle of the forest? Um, not so much, her naiveite radiated and as time went on, she was now burrowing herself all over his brawny frame. This night was indeed filled with vicissitudes and Leith had a feeling that this girl’s presence would not be leaving him anytime soon -- especially after her latest mumble in regards to how she might have died without him here. "It was my arrow that shot you." He said, a tinsy bit of guilt radiated within his tone but it ebbed eventually and when he took measures to speak again, the bowman stopped, brain becoming addled at her latest sentence. Perhaps some kind of thank you? Leith took it for what it was worth and tilted his head to look lower at the sylvan girl, scraggly hair moving over his eyes, deep voice rumbling, "...lean." If she would do as he asked, he'd lean further against her and bend down at the knee, placing his strong arms underneath slender legs. Hoisting her up against him, he began to gather his things, bow and knapsack included. "Don't move too much, you'll reopen your wound and I don't want to waste another roll of linens. We're going to make camp nearby. Wounded pray draws in the unwanted...especially recently spilt blood." These was his first full few sentences since meeting the girl and they hadn't been the friendliest but it spoke his point well enough, he didn't want to wait around and waist his resources. If she struggled against him, the archer would only continue to hold her, taking punches to the face if she dared to anyway. {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ most people had a sense of personal space, but she was not most people, nor in a situation remotely resembling the normal way of things. She’d been an owl for who knows how long per the fey curse upon her, took a wound, and found some semblance of hope for survival all in very swift strokes. More, being cursed as she had been, the woman had been more open to accepting new twists of fate without much question. It of course helped her acceptance when she struggled with those transitions, needing to remember how to function in a human mind. The owl transition was easier, as the creature operated more on instincts than humans did. Her nature, too, was more carefree and genial, even when she didn’t consciously remember those elements about herself, they were there just as the owl’s instincts were there for the bird’s form. All of these things therefore did not make her recoil where help could be found when it was needed, or a new fate emerged within reach. She was the sort to reach, touch, taste, and explore. What did that fruit taste like? She’d try it. What were the steps to this song? She’d learn them, or make them up. This archer had found her in a terrible state, one he had also put her in (though ironically had also unwittingly helped her escape the owl imprisonment). Still, raw elements of what she was bore through that dark gloaming within these strange woodlands. She was hurt, and help existed within reach, so she grasped for it. Though, in her befuddled state, with the owlish haze still clearing her mind, she blurted with a trill in her quiet, but demanding question. “Why would you *shoot* me? I was just on my branch, looking to rest—“ though she trailed off, confusion crinkling her brows while she turned her cornflower gaze upward, to make a study of his face from the angle she had at it anyway. Questioning, yet still clasping close to him, for she had no other refuge to speak of, than the very archer who had shot her owl form, yet tended to her human wounds. Fate wound in strange patterns. it could seem presumptuous to make such demands of the man who’d just healed her, and, as she leaned as he suggested, was now stooping to pick her up entirely from the ground to bear her minor weight around. “Why would you shoot an owl? It’s looked down upon, you know!” She didn’t know where or by whom hunting an owl was a taboo, but some residual memory suggested it to be so. Although she scolded her assailant and simultaneous rescuer in mild contralto trills, she did as he guided of her, and so she nestled snug and close to his torso, holding fast with her good arm to minimize movement whilst his bore her steadily. She was human, she was born to human parents. Though the fey curse that crumbled her existence down into the feathered form of an owl gave her a certain avian affinity and empathy. So when she happened to catch sight of the bird feet and protruding feathers from the pouch over Leith’s shoulder, she tensed with sudden alarm and more trilling noises, probably a ranger’s least favorite sins: identifying sounds to predators or enemies resonating throughout the wilderness. “You were going to put me into that bag! Into that bag!” She stammered shrilly, her good arm’s hand curling into a small, freckled fist, which thud with embarrassingly small strength against his shoulder several times. This entire situation was entirely strange for the both of them. “Put me down! Give me those birds! How could you?!” Her mind still had half a heart still within the memories of her owl form, and her empathy ran too deep now for those felled avian creatures. How demanding for a wounded ‘bird’ such as she was. If he did put her down, she’d still follow beside him for the camp he said he’d make, though if he kept her held to himself, she’d try to tug the bindings of the pouch from his body, awkwardly, as she only had one good arm, and it still remained, she was hardly clothed and fussing over a satchel of well-hunted birds. “I want them, I want to bury them. Like I would have wanted to if you felled me true! they deserve their burial rites!” Clearly, her mind was still stuck between human and avian traditions, where the latter really didn’t have any at all. “…are you going to start a fire?” she transitioned suddenly, her voice smaller and anticipative. Human as she was, she’d been literally birdbrained for quite a long time prior. Even if a smarter variety in the owl. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- Disoriented was surely one word amongst many to describe this nymphlike girl’s state. Magic could damage you; for that he knew for sure, the numerous scars upon his face said as much {stories for another time} and whatever fate befell this lithe, little thing it was not in the least kind…he saw it in her eyes. These woodlands held unique polarity to them but wise wanderers knew when to draw back and pull away after their needed resources were gathered -- this girl did not know the meaning of such, invading his personal bubble within her inquiry. Raw and unhinged in emotion, the lassie who presented herself as Donnally slowly started to show more color from her previous upset upset state directing her blurting, demanding question towards his direction. “…profit.” Simple answer, really. Here to pluck and gut owls to collect ceremonial feathers but restrained himself from mentioning that part. His deep voice grumbled again when she crinkled her face, watching those multiple freckles now cluster upon her face when she turned that gaze upwards to look at the gruff stranger who called himself Leith. Feet led him a bit further away from their previous meeting spot, ears open to the surrounding sounds -- the creaking and groaning of the trees from the upcoming winds and the occasional cricket whispering their song. It did not seem out of the ordinary, though, when fresh blood was upon the air it brought out the most unsavory creatures who dwelt in the night. The ranger did find slight amusement when she acted out in such a way against him whilst those small hands still clung to the front of his jerkin, digits looping into the braided cords of his leathers, fastening her hold to him. His expression remained abstruse even as she went on to ask about why he would shoot down an owl, especially her out of all the birds he could have shot, and with a tip of his head he answered her in that deep grumbling voice, “.. …you looked impaired, thought I’d put you out of your misery.” He really wasn’t the type to dance around the bush, was he? Thoughts surfaced and he spoke them with reason, otherwise, he often remained noiseless in that placid state of his. And now, as she continued to broach the conversation with her own opinions, his brows came to slightly furrow at the arch upon her mentioning how it was looked down upon to shoot an owl. “ -- some areas.” Leith randomly interjected before letting it slide and would begin his marked trail by the place he deemed his campsite in the understories of this reigning forestry. Even as she continued to chide him, she clung, not even moving away as he carried her along but the gentleness within her deportment would not last for long. For the snug warmth in which Donnally’s body pawed at for stiffened immediately and those trilling, loud vocals resonated so *loudly* within his sensitive ears he almost swore they bled from how ear-splitting her vocals were. Any prior precautions to avoid approaching predators immediately dissolved within that piercing bellow, that girl’s voice did not calm… ..it got worse. Lifting his fingerless, gloved hand, his dirtied palm pressed in over her mouth, stifling her whilst she carried out her frustrations against the archer’s broad chest for the dead birds peeping from his knapsack. He was not able to fully stop her though, her body now writhing within his grasp as frantic words escaped through the crevices of his fingers. "You think my bow is just for show?" Out came another simplistic question towards her, one that would make her wonder for a moment and come to see the reality of the situation {hopefully to see where he was coming from in all of this mess where he had gone to such lengths to shoot her out of the tree for gain.} A realness came to the situation when she realized it could have been her who was in that bag amongst her 'bird friends' but as she huffed and fought up against him within his arms, he let out a displeased groan for her bindings had become slightly undone due to untimely rapid movements over the loss of the avian fliers within his sack. "... ..I'm going to start a fire. Gut them, pull off the feathers, and bury them. *Stop* moving. Leave the bag alone." Nonetheless, he did find her change in personality comedic despite his outward features showing something else -- he did fall to her childish whim though, surprisingly, perhaps it was her simple innocence that amused him so... ..something which was hard to come by when you traveled as long and alone as he did. They eventually did make it to his destined spot and he propped her up against a line of trees, setting to work by making a circle of stone for fire and getting the necessary tools {such as flint and other items, jerky now being presented to the young nymphlike girl...if she ate it anyway.} The lonely bowman had acquired a friend, a very, very unlikely naked friend. {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ profit, he said! Profit! The human mind grasped this as reasonable, however, and the owlish remains in her psyche considered the value of the birds for food. Meanwhile the part of her stuck between the two, human and owl, felt that empathy and lamenting outrage over the signs of avian corpses in his satchel. It all really was befuddling right after a transition into human from owl. “Oh.” She peeped as if the reply about her owl form seeming impaired was reasonable and acceptable, and pipped down a little, briefly. “I was tired in the daylight. But not impaired.” She justified, but in a more mollified state, maybe not what he expected after her little outbursts where he felt he had to cover her mouth before, though his stained hand had easily covered her face chin to nose when he had. She’d huffed through her nostrils like a tiny bull in his arms, but had wound down. The question about his bow had her thinking, and no, it did not look like an ornamental thing, and his arrow through her wing had been solid demonstration, too. “I used to catch mice in my talons,” she recollected aloud, though quietly to honor the quiet Leith had demanded for reasonable safety needs (she didn’t consider the other side of it, where her heightened pitch had also stressed him on a personal level). Her toes wriggled uselessly, no longer owl’s sharp talons, but small, fair useless feet. her wound ached, though the analgesic salve the archer had applied still helped to mask the deep possible pain. Her writing had loosened his handiwork, which shushed her again and she scrunched the right side of her face up with the right eye slightly squinting in an awkward look of apology for that. She was placed down beside a tree, given jerky, and he set to making a fire. “Will you fix it?” She dared ask over the last chews of her ravenous bite of jerky. Both human and owl had enjoyed meat, so there was harmony here in this morsel Leith had given to her. She meant the bindings he’d invested time and resources into setting, which she had caused to sag in her earlier wriggling. She winced at ‘gut them,’ but accepted the compromise, glad he’d even consider her requests. The birds were dead now, if they could be made useful still, it would be better. The idea reminded her of the owl pellets she used to hack up, which stirred an untimely laugh (at least maybe untimely seeming to Leith, as they had been up and down around tense conversation). though, she threw her good hand over her mouth, lively blue eyes widening with playful apology over the rim of her fingers at a stoic ranger who surely had to be exasperated with her antics by now. Still befuddled over personal space, she stood with a little awkwardness and a wincing whimper, forgetting to close the coat he’d put on her at first, nakedness a natural state for her owl form, though when she started ambling his way where he still crouched over his newborn fire, the rustle of the heavy fabric reminded her. “Oh.” Where she then shifted the excessive fabric around herself, then proceeded on. Donnally plopped down right beside him, huddling closer than strangers were usually comfortable with. “I like you, I think you’re a good person. Do you think you’re a good person? I’m not sure what I am yet, I can’t remember entirely, but I want to be good, too. I think.” This crazy, lost girl, and he had the misfortune of shooting the one bird in a plethora of them that ended up being the one with the fey curse. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- Ah, yeah, profit. How else was he going to make his living? Once in awhile, he would creep out from the woods and approach civilization to sharpen his weapons, to regain supplies but other than that the archer was gone by the next day. Leith presented the girl with hard truth and fact, despite how her owlish psyche was only just beginning to recover from the long, excruciating journey he was sure she faced in years forced to be within that small form. He sought no joy in seeing her so befuddled, complexion scrunched up to show her discontentment over her savior’s treatment of those once majestic creatures who took to the skies but this situation was not worth sugarcoating. The only request he became servile upon was hauling the avian corpses about and making graves to appease this unknown girl who lamented upon her ‘friends.’ This side was rare for him to show anyone yet here he was allowing himself to become bidden to do one thing, his chosen actions hopefully mollifying the youthful owlette -- it seemed to work after all when she pipped down a little bit, albeit briefly but it eased the tension on his eardrums. “… ..” Dark, round imposing eyes looked upon her, small parts of him expecting her to be a deity of some sort to wreak vengeance upon him by shooting down owls within her territory -- such did not happen though and he continued those paced footfalls until he settled upon the deemed site for the long night ahead. Her random input suddenly after his latest question in regards to his bow made him cock a brow at the freckled, creamy skinned female as she recollected her memories of being an owl to him. He did not take apart her words as most would have within this situation and he just… ..listened…Leith listened a lot of the time, his voice was something that was hardly used nowadays -- his gruff vocals now just only being put to use as it was her presence which made it so. In his peripheral, he saw her small wiggling toes, though, he didn’t make a comment upon it and went about preparing the evening’s fire after he set the petite girl against the nearest tree’s trunk. Stars now began to appear more frequently, popping out within the midnight skies, a lone moon following afterwards as the veiling clouds shown its natural bright illumination upon the forestation below bathing everything within its path. Donnally's latest daring question had him looking up from the recently sparked fire, his face moving about in the shadows of the soft, orange glow of the crackling fires, eyes catching hints of how she winced and awkwardly stood about. For a time, he only stared at the girl from across the fires he had set up from his flint, as if expecting her to transform... ..never let your guard now, however seemingly innocent that a person was. The woods were not a place to traipse about freely, especially at night. Just as he was about to shift from his spot near the newborn fire, he saw her nakedness once again and told him he would need to shield the girl if she wished for some kind of...clothing. He felt like he held some kind of responsibility since it was he who shot the arrow, causing that wound upon her wing, er, arm. It was then when she decided to shift over to him that he tipped his head, simply staring at her. She spoke a lot. His vocals were not used to stretching this much and you could hear within his gruff voice now, "... ..believe in what you see, not in what you think." Leith's voice carried quietness until he leaned back to retrieve the linen craps from his inner jerkin, grabbing hold of her arm then, when she took it upon herself to cozy up against him, he rewrapped the area, adding another layer of salve. "If you want to be good, then be good. Not all of what happens in the past defines a person." After he finished putting on the bandages and salve, shrugged off his rolled up cloak from his shoulders and laid it down on the ground next to him, canteen being thrown on the ground afterwards. "Rest." He really wasn't a man of many words and this scenario proved such versus the talkative youth who chirped oh-so-happily into his ear. {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ the owl girl, with hair reminiscently mahogany to her old feathers, finally considered the archer’s features as they were. Earlier she surveyed mostly his merits, help, and nature, which shaped how she “saw” him physically through her hazy, adjusting human eyesight. He had long facial features, with shadows in a way, more so with the flickering firelight. The line of his nose was long and slender, while his eyes bore too much weighty thoughtfulness, tinged with something that could appear grim. Though she had seen something of a sparse kindness through his gruff and terse words. He was still helping her, too, which was a continuing concrete evidence of something good in him. moonlight lightened the owl girl’s crown in faint light, while warm, orange tides of firelight easing upward from ground level. It was easy in this wilderness atmosphere for her to seem more than she was, all things considered. Fairy, nymph, or deity perhaps, but the reality was more solidly drab than that. She was merely a human, touched by a deeply overwhelming fay curse, one she did not even remember how she had acquired, thanks to the memory issues her transformations put upon her. The owl’s mind did not transfer her memories so easily, and sometimes, pieces were lost, temporarily, or permanently. She hadn’t spoken with another person in a long time, while bound down in the owl’s feathery curse. Leith became the recipient of her frequent inquiries and vocalized thoughts for it, even though he clearly was not the type that engaged in excessive conversation. He seemed to be humoring her, putting a straining effort on a voice that did not resound very often. She wasn’t a dumb girl, just befuddled by the transformation, so she recognized this and was grateful. “Okay.” She pipped up in her pleasant contralto, giving simple reply to his straightforward comment regarding goodness. Did he think she might quiet with such a simple answer? If he had, there was a misleading moment of no dialogue, but then she pipped up again. “I see goodness. So I don’t think you’re good then, I see it.” Said as if with mild ‘so there!’ in her tone. Donnally sat quietly while Leith adjusted her arm’s bandages, wincing, though not by mishandling on his part, it was going to hurt, no matter how proficiently the archer worked. She had a puncture through her flesh, and it would hurt all through the healing process, and itch toward the end of it. The reapplied salve with analgesic properties numbed the pain again, though, which served to allow the former, sleepy and fatigued owl, to ease closer toward a wish to just slumber out the night (it had been a long time since she had slept during the night, being the nocturnal avian she formerly existed as). If the cloak he had laid down had been for himself, she didn’t process that, and curled up on the garment as makeshift bed, soothed by the fire’s warmth and lulling flickers. He was the only person she knew in her world, all others she might have known were still lost to the jumble of her memories through the transformation, so whether he liked it or not, she felt closeness to him, gruff, stoic ranger versus youthful, gabby owlet of a woman. he bid that she rest, and as she lay down, with innocent intent, she reached her good arm for the archer, scooting closer to use his body as a shelter, and take comfort from the only other person she could remember in her life. Even if she’d only met him hours ago. Her wounded arm lay upward in the air, her back toward the fire, and her loosely clothed torso (with his open coat only just swaddling her) turned toward the ranger. There was simple honesty in how she sought closeness then, without ulterior carnality in mind. He roamed the wilds alone, while in parallel prior, she had swooped a wide, empty sky. Now, she huddled in low firelight to an unlikely friend as her eyes closed and her breaths grew shallower. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- Many tended to doubletake at the stoic bowman whenever he did venture into civilization, whose often-rugged appearance made others uncomfortable, so much so they skittered off into random directions in his approach, warding themselves far away from. And yet, here was this small, freckled young girl who only wished to get closer to him, curling and yet, here was this small, freckled young girl who only wished to get closer to him, curling into the thick leathers of the ranger’s coat which held the strong essence of the dewy forested floors. Upon its creation, the recently born fire crackled and spit embers, black smoke creating billows into the starry skies briefly clouding that bright half-moon hanging in the atmosphere. Those same fires now brought along different angles not just to his countenance but the maiden who sat so close to him, wrapping up in his leathers, coupled with the cloak Leith recently bestowed upon her. After he answered that latest question in regards to goodness; she appeared to be temporarily ‘sated’ but her perky voice pierced the silence, his slightly aging brows coming together at the pleasant voice which poked at him again in regards to his supposed acclaim goodness {though, the forest was their receiving public… ..stars and moon their audience with the occasional hoot, hoot of a nearby owl.} Those thoughts which danced about her head in him humoring her were indeed correct but sometimes even simple conversation was craved out here in the wilderness where only your voice echoed about at you. “… ..then continue to look beyond because if such is not done, it will be your undoing.” He said afterwards, voice showing signs of wear, intoned and lifeless. He poked at the fire to keep it from diminishing, adding another stack of twigs and dry leaflets. There was purpose to his words, letting the petite owlette gain her perspective again; that most recent sentence planting the seed which would hopefully blossom into letting her see beyond one exterior. The world had many façades, he simply desired to see her prevail. Wait. Was he seriously just now considering taking her under his wing? She was not some lust puppy. Though, the little lady wouldn’t survive a day in this region, he knew that. She would most likely eat some berries and end up faceplanted... ..naked, within the nearest stream, drowned and lifeless within just one inch of water. Fingerless gloves swept through scraggly, dark hair, eyes honing in upon the youth as he readjusted the arm’s bandages upon her arm. His gaze said to her ‘don’t move anymore’ {although, meticulous in not making them too tight.} Words did not come again and the ranger observed as the youthful sylvan began to rock back and forth in a familiar swaying which gave indication how close she was to peering into her dreamscape. After he laid down his cloak, he expected the nymphlike girl to fall asleep within his thick leathers. She had different plans and haphazardly curled herself up into his previously spread out cloak, burrowing into its provided toastiness… ..making no room for him. Low grunts of disapproval came from his throat but instead of pushing her away, he allowed the small thing to curl up closer against him, taking on the role of this supposed shelter he obviously had no choice but to alter himself into. This damn girl. He flinched upon those slender arms loosely wrapping about his torso, his brown eyes catching the curves underneath the blankets, body firm and round. Eyelids fell heavy and the elder man ushered another tug upon his cloak to fully 'clothe' her lest she catch cold {that and he did not wish to see another nip slip.} Prudence was not part of his demeanor but there was nothing sensuous about an innocent girl with exposed breasts, curling up to the closest person she had come to contact within the longest of time... ..suddenly, the ranger felt the need to make a resolve this moonlit eve. Hovering over her, he watched the rays of the stars catch her strands of loose fanned out mahogany hair. How queer the woods were, there was never anything simple about them, clandestine and esoteric but there was one prevailing thought. Yes, cuddle up into your swaddle, enjoy the warmth of your fire because from afar they will always be watchful and will always be safeguarding those who respect their realm. Leniency was given this night to the ranger who watched over the sleeping girl -- the woodlands had spoken; Leith was to be her protector and he wordlessly accepted it. {e}
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leith
New Member
Posts: 5
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Post by leith on Mar 5, 2017 17:40:36 GMT -8
A night of wolves & goodhearted creatures
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ for a girl who had been an owl for an unknown length of time, the sight of another human through human eyes was a deep blessing and relief. Donnally hadn’t been in society for a while, where she could learn biases against rugged appearances (“He might be a ruffian!” “He is so grim compared to our dapper Mr. Copperfield!”). To her, his rough look was taken in with truly innocent eyes to all of that, and he was found hospitable. The mossy, earthen scents within the coat he had deposited over her head were the first she had really taken in while human again, too, and were familiar to things she had found familiar while imprisoned as an owl. Society might teach to avoid lone, ranging men like Leith, but she was clean of these biases, and alive and freed from feathers. He might not have expected or even wanted some gabby lass to latch to him as the only human being she could recall, but fate turned as it had, and Leith now had the wounded thing nestling close to him in the simple camp he’d laid out. If she felt or saw his flinch when she tugged herself snugly to the stoic ranger, she didn’t show indication of noticing or caring. Briefly, her bare breasts pressed against his tunic while she curled to him nearly already asleep, but the archer tugged the coat he’d dropped on her better around her form, covering her up. This was another demonstration of dignified respectability in the gruff, lone archer. If society reacted cautiously toward him, he ironically was probably of better personal quality than many. She mumbled in her sleep, and her toes curled frequently, as if memories of her existence as an owl overtook her nocturnal visions. She woke up after a few short hours, feeling uncertain of where she was, and maybe even who and what she was. Though, Donnally didn’t react frantically, her breathing just changed as she became conscious, and cornflower human eyes tried to take in the atmosphere. It was so dark, which was strange to feel so blind in when she had been used to her owl eyes before for so long. “Leith.” She pestered without intention to beleaguer the ranger. “What’s around us?” It might have seemed a dumb or even harassing question if not for her eager sincerity. She’d been an hour earlier in the evening, and for a long time prior, now she felt blind and deaf in the night world she used to feel so confident in. A quiet moment passed, and her fingers curled and tugged on his jerkin. “Pleeease, tell me what you hear, and can you see anything? Tell me?” Was he ever going to have peace and quiet with this former owl pawing at him? }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : There never was not a time he wasn’t alone -- wandered alone, slept alone, ate alone, hunted alone. This sudden company welcome and then not. Her talkative style made him haggard, his own unused voice box suffering from humoring her until she was lolled off into sleep. Thank the wood. Dubbed a light sleeper by his colleagues, one eye was almost always unfailingly open whilst his body slipped into repose. Brawny frame settled beside the small girl, her closed eyes and the rapid movement of her eyeballs gave hint she was deep into the dream realm -- further hints of that came when he saw her tiny hands curling into ‘claws’, toes included as if she were swooping in on an unsuspecting field mouse. Laughter did not emerge from him, his deportment detached as he surveyed the sleeping lump buried underneath those varied, leathered layers. Civilization warned maidens, like the girl twined up beside him, against questionable looking individuals such as this ranger {his actions against her thus far were not obfuscated though, kindly if anything.} His disposition was perfectly described by the youth, good and not good… ..when the situation called for it. Slitting another’s throat was achieved easily if it meant survival for you. Long booted legs stretched out on the swards of sprouting greenery, his muscular frame bathed in the nearby orange glow of the spitting fires. Spring may have been encroaching the soil but it did not mean winter was completely over, there was still the off chance where snow could spring up on them in their sleep. The woodlands were capricious like that; never did they settle. An example of the forest’s volatile mood swing was in the presentation of this owl turned youthful female. Hey, let’s bestow this girl to this archer in his time of loneliness yet make him shelter her, clothe her, and feed her. There was a reason for everything and he was chosen to protect her -- wordlessly he accepted that. His mind started to mull on the ideation of making her learn some skills rather than spoil the small thing consistently. That was the way of the rangers after all. Learn what you can take and cannot take, hunt from the lands but only what you need, protect and you shall be protected. Simple. The newborn fire advanced into its age and eventually came down to its dying point – only a prod and maybe some sticks would keep it going. Leith did not tend to the fires, instead he sunk into sleep… ..or what was thought to be sleep for as the birds twittered and the waning blue hues of the skies indicated that the sun was ready to break way into day -- he fucking heard her voice again. Grumble. Donnally’s inquiry was innocent enough but he sought out to grab his canteen from his belt, quelling his aching throat with drink before he spoke again, “…birds.” A simplified answer but he knew she was earnest to hear more from his lips in regards to the surrounding wildlife. Lifting his fingerless, gloved hand, his palm pushed in over her moving mouth, pressing one simple finger against his own lips to indicate for her to ‘listen.’ Dark eyes studied the wooded area and after moments passed, his rumbling vocals answered, "A loud, talking girl. One deer. Four wolves. Two raccons .. ...water." Wait, water? Gaze cast upwards to the developing skies and it now began to darken, the low rumble of an early spring shower covering these two in light droplets. Lightly, he sighed, bringing his strong arms around her waist to draw her nearer to him, shielding her from the developing rains, he propped his cloak in a way where it covered those thin shoulders and drooped in over her head because of its sheer, large size alone. "Stay. There is no where else with thick branches. The leaves are only beginning to bud here." Rain continued to fall upon them but he remained steadfast, hair and clothes becoming slightly dampened. Leith protected her even now as the night crept by, if she struggled to weasel her way out from the blankets he would only reapply them. {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ with her inquiries, Donnally wriggled upward, adjusting to make it easier to ease nearer to the stoic ranger’s face. She wanted to hear any whisper he might make about the atmosphere around them, eager in her own experience of sensory blindness (relative to her owl form). The gruff outsider sighed with drawn, taciturn annoyance. This did not cause her to waver. she waited through the drink he took, but if he had meant to delay and diminish her interest, it didn’t work. Truthfully, though, she could tell he didn’t talk much, so even though they had a little bit of sleep before she woke them both up, it was not farfetched to her that his voice was strained and his throat dry. “When I used to be an owl,” she began in such a casual. chipper manner, it could have seemed similar to someone saying “When I went to the baker’s the other day,” or something else perfectly ordinary. “I could hear little mouse feet runni—“ the rest of her words were muffled while the ranger’s mitt covered not just her mouth, but the lower half of her face. His other hand drew a finger to his own lips to indicate for her to be quiet. Stop for a moment and listen. So she did. She listened, wide, cornflower eyes staring at the ranger’s longer facial features, as if this might somehow help her hear better. It really only relayed her eagerness to find out what was around them that she couldn’t detect as well any longer. A laugh muffled through his hand when he started off with his observations by saying he could hear a loud, talking girl. He did have humor! It just wasn’t as overt as she was in, well, about everything. Though it would suit a ranger to be subtle, wouldn’t it? Though, when he described the other creatures moving in the darkness, she closed her eyes, to remember what they were like through her owl senses as he named them. muscle memory had her slant her head at a rightward angle, similar to an owl’s small movement, but parallel enough to human behaviors while they were in thought, too. That was probably why the mannerism remained, it existed in both domains. Water? Though the explanation for that formed in light droplets plunking against her face, one catching in her lashes and inciting a few rapid blinks. she didn’t panic at the sprinkling rain or rustling, minor storm gusts through wintery branches above. As an owl, it was easy enough to just sit in a light rain and allow her mottled feathers to roll the water away without really bothering to act. Though when numerous small droplets started accumulating against an exposed calf, it was cold! trapped in the owl form for so long, she had forgotten what rain felt like on her skin, so the sensation was simultaneously novel and disquieting. The ranger acted swiftly and efficiently, dragging her closer and creating impromptu shelter with his extended cloak over her head. Meanwhile he sat taking the brunt of the rain, but his leathers and other garments had seemed to have been prepared for damp weather anyway. The former owl’s legs scrunched upward and closer to the gruff ranger, and it didn’t take effortful convincing to guide her to cling to his torso again with her good arm. The injured arm huddled between their bodies, sheltered and braced from the elements. “Why did you become a ranger?” She asked while the rugged man sat there with rainwater running down his nose and cheeks, drip-dropping from a tendril of hair or from an earlobe. “I bet you used to like when I talked at night, when I was an owl. Like the deer and wolves you heard.” The former owl observed too, only because he’d called her loud and talkative. No hurt was found in her freckled face, though, only a sleepy liveliness (had he ever seen these things combined in an expression before?). “I don’t know where I come from,” she blurted without prompting on his part, but she suspected he might ask (even though he probably wouldn’t have). “Nor why I was an owl, not entirely. Fairy involvement.” Now she was just hopping around fragmented memories aloud. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : She was spirited and free. He was staunch, unmovable, brawny arms providing this girl the needed body heat to get through the night. Naked as a jaybird, he felt her buttocks pressing up on his side whilst she shifted underneath his warming leathers, still, he did not deter from his committed demeanor to shelter the young lassie. Becoming sick out here was troublesome enough, Leith couldn’t afford burying her alongside the avian corpses the next approaching morning. Lips shown displeasure, voice heavy with unuse, cracking as questions were answered. Hand pushed up towards her mouth, preventing her from speaking -- never mind. Eyelids became heavy. He just wanted to sleep a little more, was that so hard to ask for? Casual conversation was not the stoic’s forte yet somehow, she was still seeking for some voice to answer back to her, as if the sound of her own voice coupled with his signified that neither were truly alone right now. Large form settled onto his side, complexion unmovable, rough hand pushing harder against her soft lips whilst doe like, cornflower eyes stared up at the ranger’s hushing facial features. Deadened eyes held a mild, humorous smidgen, only to fade away; groggy vocals describing the sights and sounds the girl so yearningly wished to hear and see, living vicariously through his sight and hearing. His observations were now obstructed by the incoming multiple droplets landing around them. Light enough to endure, though eventually they would thicken depending on the rate in which the storm clouds moved over the canopied branches protecting them presently. The rapid fluttering of her eyelashes indicated this was a familiar sensation to be acquainted with again, like a babe who was like a bear who was coming out from hibernation to experience the joys spring introduced, warding away winter’s gelid grasp with its tepid atmosphere. Her recoiling made him react, coarse fingertips pulling further up on the leathers and just when he thought he was getting some peace of mind... ..she spoke *again.* This time, a more intimate question in regards to his profession. Unruffled, he let the rain continue to drip down his long face, creating streams which eventually escaped down to the collar of his shirt. Hair matted against scarred skin, and still, Leith held no answer to her questions, letting the sounds of the night, joined with the pitter-pattering rain be his answer for now whilst she blurted out inappropriately at the ranger. This girl was strange, this night was strange, everything was strange. Was he perhaps dreaming or something? Her expression matched with sleepy liveliness was indeed unique but it not stop his next incoming thoughts. He let the situation weigh in over his head, the rain developing thicker until his voice spoke through the heavy, scattering droplets. "... ..I killed someone." The bowman fell into silence afterwards before picking up his voice again, surely causing the young thing to become befuddled whilst he remained undisturbed {as if he had made peace with himself long ago,} "...then hoot into my ear, I wish to sleep." Wet head dropped to the mossy forest floor, one eye closing as the other looked, almost expectantly towards the nymphlike, freckled girl. {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ not long ago, she’d been an owl. She glided around, swooped on mice, hooted and who’d the nights away with lantern eyes taking in the depths and nuances of the night with ease. Rain would have rolled off her mottled feathers, and wolves would have been a nonfactor. Then this archer came along and shot her down from her perch. Strange as it was, she truly was grateful that he had, because something about that had jarred the fairy curse on her enough to let her tumble to the ground in her natural, human form again after such a long imprisonment in feathers. When thunder and lightning crackled across the sky, the former owl did not cower, she had lived in the wilderness for so long that aspect of nature was, well, natural and accepted. What did cause her to shrink was the prospect of being murdered. Had she finally annoyed him too much? Pushed this societal outsider over the brink of his tolerance? Her shelter was gone now as he drew away his cloak, which had been her improvised roof against the rain moments before. She thought he was describing *himself* now as a bad man, and with the slide of metal, she was sure she was about to be gutted as he had intended from the start to do, when she had been an owl, with desirable feathers and gizzards useful for selling to people for ceremonial traditions. Now was he going to gut her for being too much of a nuisance? “—no, wait—“ trembled her small, contralto voice. but then he handed it to her, noting that it had been the man he killed that had been the bad man, who had scarred him. There were stories to ask about there, to prod further, but not right now. Definitely not right now. She had been used to having talons for deadly weaponry in her feet whilst an owl, though the knife felt heavy and foreign in her good hand. Still, it gave a sense of efficacy. he gave efficiently short instruction on what she should do if a wolf tried to eat her. She nodded rapidly, tendrils of rainy mahogany hair making dark rivulets against her face, covering matching freckles. She was more useless than she might have been without her punctured arm, whose muscles and ligaments were too damaged for that limb to be of any function. Leith then suddenly hauled her slight weight and hurled her behind himself, showing more strength than she had realized was there before, because he’d been so quiet and restful up until this point. Her bare feet had swung through the air, while she yelped disconcerted surprise. Bewilderment fell away when she realized he was becoming a shield between herself and the wolves, and that she was the better target for the pack, being so much smaller and wounded no less. The bandages Leith had wrapped around the arrow’s puncture wound showed pinks and reds through the fabric, where her bleeding still hadn’t completely stopped. It had been a deep injury, which screamed at her with a shock of pain upon landing behind him and her limbs naturally braced for landing. blue eyes reflected the fire Leith waved around at the wolves, and she felt hopeful that the pack would retreat. Then her old, owl’s predator’s intuition still sent an alarm through her system, or like a human’s sixth sense, maybe both. Like the moment just before the archer’s arrow had pierced through the owl’s wing. She rolled and turned to look behind, only to find a white wolf snarling and pouncing into the air over her. Her yelp was cut short beneath the beast’s body as it landed on her and started to bear its fangs down at her wounded arm where it probably smelled the seeping blood. Did it kill her? Its head jerked back and forth like it was trying to tear through flesh, thunder had cracked, masking the sounds of the struggle. then, the wolf collapsed down, its legs giving out and bearing its deadweight suddenly over Donnally, crushing against her already wounded shoulder and burdening her diaphragm for breaths. There wasn’t movement from either girl or wolf while rain fell over their bodies, the coat had been thrashed around when she’d been first thrown, then struggled with the wolf. so white fur lay to the poor girl’s body directly. Blood poured into rainy puddles near her shoulder, though it was less hers (some from her injury, some from fangs that had managed to drag and snap on her skin) and more the wolf’s, because she did as Leith had said, and shoved the dagger up into the wolf’s mouth, twisting. More thunder, though around it, a small voice peeped up finally, strained and tremulous with adrenaline. “…Leith… h-hel—..” more thunder cut her off. }-
Ereas : With each thunder crack yelps could be heard but ever so slightly from the other wolves, It was here that blue streaks of what appeared to be lightning striking quickly through the tree's. From one tree to the next the streaks went, Each flash of lightning revealed for a second a black and bluish creature of unknown origin. Again with each flash of lightning that followed with the booms and cracks of thunder wolves could be seen being lifted up and then being devoured, When all was settled that blue glow would settle to a dark blue that almost melded with the darkness of the night. Something was out there hunting the wolves as the wolves were hunting the other's, Two glowing slits could be seen staring directly at Leith and Donnally but no threatening move was made as it continued to watch them and the corpse that possibly laid upon the owl girl. Something slowly started to snake it's way over towards the white wolf, It held the dim blue glow as the streaks had died down. Clicks sounded about the area as it continued to watchthem, What ever it was...it was interested in the two but especially the owl girl. Those streaks would leap from one tree to another before suddenly stopping a yard or so away from them both, Another flash of lightning could be seen and a creature before them had become easier to see.<e>
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- And long ago, he had just been a typical ranger. Patrolling the stretch of lands in which his group was known to overlook. Though now, he was here, protecting this girl against the invasive elements, weather and predators. Heartless as he may have seemed by stooping over her, long shadow engulfing her form it was in fact the exact opposite… .. his chest feeling a slight knot upon her small, contralto voice peaking higher than normalcy would allow. She’d learn how to defend herself this night it seemed, instructions given with precision, the dagger’s weighted hilt being pressed into the small of her palm. This was indeed not a time for camp side stories for those beyond the tree line gathered {his complexion did read otherwise to her as if to say ‘another time, lass’}, their growls distant and distinct all the same time, paws running into the mud towards the seemingly unequipped pair who dared to tread within the wolves’ hunting grounds. The approaching storm masked their scent, what it did not shroud was the rising shrill within the younger owlette’s voice, drawing out more white wolves from the tree lines beyond. There was no easy route to go about that subject, face and skin beyond covered in scars, she was going to ask about them eventually… ..he just chose to be open about it now rather than hiding it. Results varied and he took the fault for summoning such distress from her small form because of his sudden confession -- he could not ruminate for long now, for the wolves continued to encompass them, halting off any exits. Muscles flexed, using his reserved energy which was usually used for drawing back the weighted force of his bow, sixty pounds and all {half the nymphlike girl’s size, which made it easier for him to maneuver her flailing limbs around, planting her into the thick, slippery mud behind him.} Yellowed teeth snapped menacingly as Leith moved around his flaming torch, the fire hissing and sputtering from the dropping rain above him. His brawny figure stood dauntingly, becoming a shield for Donnally against the nearing aggressors using those natural shadows the flames procured, angling his face in ways to ward them off. He observed as some of the wolves began their retreat from the fire, one bewildered and yelping in surprise when he managed to graze the roaring fire over one’s eyes who dared to jump at him. Half of the pack was almost gone, yet there was something beyond the numerous trees which had them hold off their offending movements, only to give a howling cry at the others to get them moving along swiftly. Something bigger approached, more menacing than what a wolf’s penetrating growl and heavy stare could do. In this off guarded moment, that was when the lone, young canine decided to part from their pack and pick at the owl girl who appeared ‘weak’… ..anything but. Sharply, the ranger turned onto his heel, blinded by the streaks of lightning that crackled about the skies making it difficult for him to see the struggle in which the other was faced with. Thunder boomed, causing the ground to tremble unevenly as he sought to reach out in aiding the youthful girl but what he was met with was hot, pulsing, freshly spilt blood upon his hand. "... ..D - Don...Donnally..?" His grumbling voice cracked desperately, dropping the flaming torch as it hissed and steam fell within the moss, muddy area beneath them. No care given in his nearness, both of his rough hands reaching out to take the girl by her thin shoulders to overlook her trembling appearance. Carefully, he attempted to pry the dagger from her palm, "... ..breathe...give me the dagger, lass.." Surely the adrenaline pumping through her caused the girl to be beyond edgy but it was now that lingering force beyond the trees which skulked towards this pair. Long, contorted, and unnatural. This creature did not radiate pleasantness and as their tail moved about the moved to be placed upon the hulking voice upon the girl's dainty body, he spoke brazenly, "...that's her kill." If the other wished to combat against him, the safety of the owl girl came first to him, as it was his silent resolve to see her unscathed. His weaponry would be drawn if needed, dark eyes focused in on this unknown 'visitor.' {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ the weight of the wolf made it difficult to breathe, so her intakes of breath became short and shallow, especially so because of all the adrenaline coursing through her small, freckled body. Mahogany hair lay in swirls of mud and rain, and dirt, water, and mud were painted all over her body, almost like an echo of the mottled patterns her owl feathers used to bear, too. in her distress, she had yelped for the gloomy, stoic ranger with the best gulp of air she could muster for it, which wasn’t much under the weight. One arm was in misery where the wolf had caused superficial wounds with its snapping fangs, but also caused more harm with its slouching weight against the deep injury in that same arm. The other just wasn’t strong enough to shove the dead wolf off of herself. She was distantly aware of wolf whines and barks in the distance, where they were being taken down by an unknown creature, but her focus for the moment was hugely focused on the dead animal crushing down on her, and the fact it had just tried to kill her. Also the fact that she had survived the encounter because Leith had put the knife in her hand and given her just enough instruction for her to follow before resuming the daunting task of scaring off a wolf pack in their own territory. Still, for all of the emotion in the moment, she also felt some small pip of triumph, because *she* had been the one to follow through and make use of the knife, even if luck probably played a big part. her knuckles were white (beneath the heavy coating of wolf’s blood) around how firmly she still was holding on to the hilt of that dagger, which she didn’t realize until Leith spoke her name and guided her to let it go. She did release it, and let the ranger reclaim his weapon. Leith helped shove the upper part of the wolf from Donnally’s torso, too, after which she gulped the rainy air for oxygen. that survival sense was tripped again, and she was now aware of some sort of *thing* moving around in the dark, with its silhouette shown in the flashes of lightning. Had the wolf pack belonged to some demon coming to punish them for fighting back against the canines? Unfamiliar, alien clicks emanated from the demonic looking thing as it was plain it studied the owl girl and the stoic ranger beside her in the blood saturated mud and rain. It was suddenly upon them, so close, staring them down, and the owlet of a girl shrieked and contorted toward Leith, though the wolf’s body still anchored down upon her stomach and thighs. In this way, too, she had unintentionally made the ranger into a cover for her naked upper body, where the open coat he’d dropped on her before had been soaked down heavily into the mud during the conflict. She’d been an owl, with down and feathers to warm and cover her before. How blind and cold and useless she felt back in her natural human form, but still, glad to be loose of that avian prison. Leith had seen her nakedness already and proven himself reputable and respectful toward the owl girl, who’d unexpectedly “molted” her feathers and owl prison with nothing to her name but her life. Even now, he hovered close, ready to fight again if this demon thing studying them proved a threat…… and it really seemed like it would. “Don’t hurt him—“ hooted the girl in desperate hope that this frightening thing somehow responded to her plea. There was a sob in her voice that she fought back, but her body was in quite a bit of pain, as well as shock over the ordeals of the night and the cold and stormy atmosphere that continued to bear down on them all. }-
Ereas : The creature would ward off the other wolves within the area with what sounded like a hiss of a soulless creature, Though it would turn it's focus on the ranger whom was protecting the owl girl. It's tail would curve slightly away from them as it had now become visible to them, It was spiked and looked like a spear to some. It's eye's had never left the two of them but it's curiosity had peaked, The creature would leap from the tree it was in and landed upon the muddied surface of the ground. It's hide seemed to hold some form of bark and earthly texture to it as well as a slick lining that resembled some form of liquid coating, The creature would tilt it's head to the left a little bit hearing the male speak up. Of course they would feel threatened by the creature since they had no idea what IT was, The creature would give a few more clicks before finally wrapping it's rather long tail around a tree behind it. It though maybe if it had done that they wouldn't feel as threatened, Though after a given amount of time bristles of fur could be seen growing upon it's hide and form. It would give off gentle click as it continued to watch though stopped for a moment when the owl girl shrieked the creature would step back, It was frightened for the moment but shook it's head and looked to the ranger. Even though it couldn't speak common...it still understood what they were saying, Well that was a lie for Ereas was able to speak common but not very well. The creature would reach one of it's four hands out and soon medical supplies appeared in it's hands.<e>
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- There were many ways this could have gone erroneous. The wolf could have bitten into her neck or even her injured arm, dragging her off into the muddy, raining wilderness whilst he staved off that canine’s growling companions. That wasn’t the case though. He survived, she survived, no, they survived. She was caked in the rain’s mess, mahogany hair fanned out in mud, freckled creamy body no longer held an innocence to it, sullied in blood, her assailant’s vital fluid. Leith wasted no time in bending over her, cooing at the youth to soothe her frightened, addled state, rough fingertips running over soft extremities to pry the dagger’s handle from the girl’s hard clasp. Blood poured not only from the dead, hulking mass upon the petite one, it also stemmed in her wound indicating those sharp fangs bit into her forearm *hard*, creating problems in her near future if the arm did not heal accurately. Low, piqued groans came from the bowman, muscles working to remove the young thing from beneath the heavy, white predator who previously chose to make her their ‘fragile snack’ -- how fallacious the pristine creature had been for a young huntress was born this night amongst the muddied forest floors, blood painting her freckled frame. Internally, he felt his own nerves take hold and yet, this was a celebratory moment for the youth, she could protect her own and she proved thus by brandishing the dagger against this weighing force who surely would have ended her… ..no questions asked. After fingers reclaimed his weapon, he placed it back into its sheath within his leather boot, hands now fully aiding her, using the slippery, muddy area trying to get her up onto her bare feet. Again, she was exposed to the elements, breasts bouncing and all, not done in pleasant actions though, she shrieked and his ears bled for it. His taller form came to be the shield to block any peeping eyes, hands hooking themselves underneath the pits of her arms to hoist her up from that dead weight upon her petite frame. There were far more issues than worrying about one’s decency and honor, out here, your survival trumped your pride. Hearing her soft, pleading distress over his life, he grow grim, not even sure if this creature understood the common language. It shown enough intelligence but how were to know if it could harm them or simply move on its way? He knew, at least, by its movements. Recognition touching him as the way this creature's appendages moved was in parallel to certain animals he'd come upon within his travels in the woods over the years. Still, indiscriminately approaching the one offering medicinal goods was not wise.... ..yet the girl clinging so tightly to his waist was bleeding and injured. This could be a trick it could have been an extension of unwonted kindness that the creature decided to extend to these unknown travelers within their territory. Either way, he was willing to risk it. Lightly, he patted at the other’s back in an attempt to open the passage of her airways, allowing the poor thing to get a grip of her bearings and find tranquility, as if to say 'yes, you can breathe again.' The aftermath of attacks were never serene, he at least knew that much. To further calm her, his warm placed itself upon the top of Donnally's head, tousling her head in this odd form of comforting her... ..giving quiet thanks through his actions for her pleading out upon his life. "I have jerky." He said suddenly, branching out his own 'kindness' towards this shape-shifting foreign one, his free hand reaching into his jerkin to pull out a large folded stash of dried meats in an offering of peace for the exchange of medical goods. {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ others from society might have shied from the grim, dark presence of the stoic ranger whenever he went into a town for supplies or trades, but in the short time the unlikely pair in forbidding ranger and sprightly owl-cursed girl had been together, Donnally had called out to or reached for Leith as a source of goodness and protective experience while she floundered about. the archer himself told her to take from experience and observation, not just guess at things, and she had all along in her judgment of him. He was far from flowery, but he had helped her many times already while the befuddlement of transformation still made her so vulnerable. There might come a time when her memories would sift into meaningful pieces again where she would learn of her usefulness from her previous human life, but until then, she owed her wilderness survival to the ranger. So for now, she was mostly just this useless, nymphlike thing only recently reborn back into her natural humanity. Though, with Leith’s guidance at least she had gained one little skill, which had saved her life against the wolf. +
ᗪσղղαlly : if she ever did find usefulness in herself again, as surely it had to exist somewhere in her memories, mental and muscle-wise, or if she learned new skills as she seemed eager and capable of, she wanted to repay the solitary ranger if she ever could. That was a thought to the back of her mind with the current scenario, though, with this looming, frightening looking creature watching them. Its murderous looking tail drew back and held to a tree, sort of in what seemed like a gesture of deescalating fears (though it could have been a trick, too). The small, gentle gestures Leith gave toward her to help soothe her adrenaline-spiked panic worked tremendously, and might have surprised people who previously judged him as a harsh looking ruffian, thug, or whatever else they thought he was and needed to be avoided. His voice was still gruff, but there was his own style of tenderness whenever he murmured to the troubled owl girl. Even though there was this frightening thing in front of them, though it seemed placid for now, the gloomy ranger took the time to further assure the clearly disturbed Donnally clinging to him. He ruffled her wet, muddy and blood-stained mahogany hair, then more fully addressed the situation with the creature in their presence. It seriously looked like it could just shred them to pieces if a whim led it to the idea. Though instead, the creature demonstrated its intelligence in seeing the nymphlike girl’s injuries, and manifested medicinal items. Was this a trick, too? She didn’t know, and trusted Leith’s lead. He in turn collected the items she truly did need, and further went to offer the creature a chunk of jerky in a show of good faith bartering. Her body was trembling by this point for the injuries, cold, and diminishing adrenaline that could turn limbs to jelly if a person wasn’t accustomed to its rise and fall. she really didn’t like feeling so useless, but followed whatever path suggested survival for now, which seemed to be under Leith’s protective shadow as long as he was willing to offer it, and accepting these vital supplies from the unlikely ally there in the stormy wilderness. Teeth chattered, and tears in response to everything her newly restored human body was enduring blended in with rain, masked. But cornblue eyes brightened in the creature’s direction, while her good arm still clasped, and tugged to be nearer to Leith, cold and frankly goddamn rattled by everything that night. “Donnally,” she offered her name to the terrifying creature, maybe appearances were truly deceiving, it did not act as its appearance suggested it might like to. “Leith,” she added, leaning her head toward the ranger who had his wits about him to make the barter to keep the creature hopefully appeased and placated. It seemed only fair if she could make herself more than useless and give something, too, even if it were merely names spoken through the rain on a small, tremulous voice she couldn’t even be sure the creature could process. Near to the ranger, he might realize how diminished her newly transformed human body was becoming, her good hand held as tightly as her dropping stores of strength allowed, though she leaned in his direction by necessity now. The useless owl girl needed the use of those medical supplies, and probably the analgesic of Leith’s salve again for the aches that spread and the injuries that threatened her well-being. She was determined not to be useless one day, but she needed to survive to that day first. }-
Ereas : The creature watched as the male did his best to comfort the owl girl, If it could blink it would. Though for now it would tilt it's head to the right this time as it continued to observe their actions, It would give of soothing clicks and made no move to harm or even threaten the two. "Help." It spoke but it didn't sound like an elf or even a human nor even an Orc, It sounded as if it didn't belong in this realm. Though when it spoke it's word didn't sound as if it was asking for help though trying to offer, Ereas would take a single step forward toward the ranger and extended the supplies once more. Then the male offered jerky to it, It would shake it's head and continued to make it's offer. "Take." It would speak once more, Though it would be more insistant since it finally knew the extent of the girl's injuries. The creature would look past the male and at the owl creature, If it could the creature would have frowned at this moment. Though it couldn't hold any type of facial gestures, All it could do was give audible clicks of different types. It would give off a simple soft click in curiosity and then another of urgency, The creature was friendly for the now. It didn't want anything in return for it's 'Kindness' due to it had already ate, There would only be small traces of wolf fur upon the ground behind it from when it attacked the other wolves to protect them. In fact it would turn it's head away for the moment to look behind it, The creature would look to see if any more of those thing's were coming to harm them. It seemed clear. Though Donnally had offered her name to it, Well that's what it seemed like to it. "Er...eas...Ereas." The creature struggled a slight bit trying to give it's name back to the owl girl, Then it looked over to Leith. "Ereas." It gave the ranger it's name too, Once the supplies were taken it would step back and away from the two of them to continue to observe and keep them safe.<e>
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- Admitting to become lenient on someone was never his personality. Into the woods, the stoic ranger traveled. Far from civilization and far from human contact, opening up to Donnally as he had these past two days was not considered the norm for him {his allies could attest to that, who he was their seniority, grumbling about older days whilst they commented underneath their breaths of his supposed ‘unfair’ treatment to them.} Old and grim, sprightly and colorful -- they somehow molded together in comradery. It was difficult to comprehend him anything beyond the demeanor he presented to those beneath his age group, yet, he had shown geniality and reverence towards this youthful girl who had somehow become part of the cycle, his cycle. A rotation -c-he scarcely moved from and he helped her many times, wordlessly just accepting that the forest wished for him to protect the mahogany haired youth… ..surely the wolves had been a test. These damned forests were testing him possibly to see if he was a worthy enough protector to be given the task in protecting this human, feycursed owlet. He wouldn’t put it past the woodlands to set such trials, their ways were mystifying and yet frustrating all at once. Tonight, yes, she at least had gained one little skill, hopefully it broadened underneath his tutelage and her skillset varied in color, rather than the blandness she was set with after her transformation from an owl {he hoped for her because she portrayed a strong will and that kind of mindset pushed people people to far greater heights.} Sagacious in his latest actions against this approaching, ambiguous creature, he waved about his fold of folded jerky at it, his movements hopefully seen as amicable for he previously presented himself in an unwelcoming manner. Assurance was given towards the youth at his side, fingertips ruffling her wet hair, twirling into the darkened blood-stained mahogany strands, sensing the uneasiness she portrayed from the draining adrenaline as the scenario weighed itself in on fully now. First kills often happened like that. The rush, the adrenaline, and then the horrible descent of your body realizing it has limitations again. He felt her nearby body, holding to him for warmth and Leith knew the longer she stayed out in the cold, bloodied and not covered in warmth, infection and hypothermia were just minutes away from entering into her body. Now introductions were being offered, not just her name but his name as well, and he stiffened when the creature stooped down from the branches of the large tree to offer this basket of meds. It seemed all they needed was the exchange of their names and he placed the jerky back into his inner jerkin, both hands reaching out to take the basket of goods, still his protection towards Donnally did not reduce and would act if necessary... ..then again, like a fox stirring up a chicken coop with multiple birds molting their feathers...multiple pieces of white fur came from the maw of this creature. "Ereas." The ranger repeated, "Do you know..." He turned towards the girl for a moment, placing the basket into her hands, arms forming a dome over the shape of his head, as he decided to play a little game with the creature, "...of a ca...caaave...nearby? Dark. Cold. Stone." After that, he let his hands fall back down to his side, fingertips looping into the strands of Donnally's leather coat to draw her closer, awaiting to see Ereas's reaction. {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ given the rough situation the owl-cursed girl was in, and her lingering sense of blindness after formerly having nocturnal owl eyes to “brighten” the nighttime world around her, she did not realize fully that the creature that offered this help to them had also been the one that killed the retreating wolves, who could have circled back later in the night to try again while their potential prey was off guard and more fatigued. The ranger, beyond her awareness, at least was the sort to catch these fine details and recognized how this thing had helped them earlier already, too. It named itself “Ereas,” or so she assumed of the sound it made after she gave the human names to it in her gesture back to it. clattering teeth gave some syncopation around her reply. “…th-th-.. thank you…” she managed at last, willing her gratitude through the shiver. If Leith didn’t remain as composed as he did, she would have taken cues that the situation was much worse (or, cues to indicate just how bad it really was), but because he remained calm, she thought things couldn’t be so bad then, even if her body wanted to tell her that it was. The shivers, the aches, the weakness, and the wish to finally go to sleep, too (although the poor ranger had his slumber repeatedly disturbed by the chatty lass, in an ironic way she’d helped them by keeping them awake, and therefore more aware of the impending wolf pack through their consciousness). Leith might have grumbled if she said she wanted sleep now, since she disturbed his so much and knew it, so she didn’t state the obvious. Though, wounds needed tending first, and shelter was another pressing necessity as well. With fatigue, her mind was flowing more along a stream of consciousness, touching on anything it happened by. Her cornflower eyes sank, at first for fatigue, but settled upon the wolf corpse, the predator the former owl had slain in defense. “…I killed that…” she murmured with exhaustion weighing in her contralto voice, and a hazy surprise, too. “…my arm…” she bleated quietly next, as the pain was the next thing to command her floundering attention. Leith collected the supplies, and set them into her good hand, while still addressing the pressing issue of shelter. If this creature had shown a willingness to help them this far, maybe it could guide them to a dry cave, surely this wilderness had some form of shelter they could retreat to. “Whooooo…~” she made a faint, delirious little singsongy sound while she wobbled around a little at the ranger’s side, knees bending briefly with threat to buckle, but she kept to her feet. This time anyway. }-
Ereas : The creature would listen to them both before looking back behind him once more, There was burrow he used to call home since he didn't interact with human like creature's much. Though he would extend further with his kindness, He would speak up to them both gently. "Home...warm...stony...safe..." The creature stated as it would then turn around and shown his back to them, It would lower itself onto all...well six and soon lowered himself further. "Ride." It stated before looking over it's shoulder's towards the two of them, It knew the other needed medical treatment soon or something grievious could happen to her. "No harm." It spoke once more before waiting for them to make their decision.<e>
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- Whatever prompted the creature to help these two souls, he did not know but was grateful for at the same, his placid countenance said otherwise despite the gentleness in his tone when he repeated the that creature’s full name. Studious eyes noted the lingering fur about its mouth, giving indication that that pack of wolves would not be back, if it all. This meant more jerky for him at least and if he could haul off this wolf’s body to a nearby cave and hang them upside down, it meant dried meats, profits as well as new skin for the girl to be donned in against the surrounding elements such as now. He may have appeared stoically calm yet internally he was ready to pounce at a moment’s notice should this unknown entity decide to make the two some kind of meal, holding off the thought that the canine hadn’t sated them enough. Leith remained placid, for Donnally’s sake {as well as his ears, he did not wish to cause her to be further unsettled, her body had already gone through enough.} Fingertips idly brushed through her strands, tucking certain matted down pieces of hair behind her ear before letting the back of his hand fall upon her mud, blood streaked forehead to feel for fever. Body warmth only did so much and he hoped there was medication for reducing fever within that basket, if not then he would need to… ..brown eyes scanned her naked, shivering form… ..yes, he’d need to strip down and press his body up against hers to provide natural heat. The chatty, sprightly lass wasn’t going to be allowed to sleep, no matter how much she ached and complained, providing her body heat was the grim looking bowman’s objective {he’d put up with her damned garrulous ass if it meant she’d survive the night with him, letting her talk away whilst he remained stone-faced the entire time.} As the adrenaline waned and the nymphlike girl looked on in her haze to see the dead wolf upon the ground, Leith's clasp upon her shoulder tightened, a tiny ghost of a smile coming up onto his face, "... ..you did." It didn't last long, maybe he didn't even smile. Her light 'whooo' hinted her delirium, voice projecting singsong tones -- that wasn't good. Seeing her small frame teetering from side to side, the elder bowman crouched and hoisted the small one up against him in an expeditious movement, his bearded face pressed up against the side of her temple, warm lips pressing to the shell of her ear, "...admit weakness." His words hopefully ushered forth another seed to be planted into her recently awakened, foggy senses. Though, it was the extension of the words from Ereas that the weathered looking ranger finally set down his defenses to provide aid to the girl he held. Holding her firmly against him, he reaffirmed her slender limbs around his neck, taking the baskets, and other supplies before mounting this offered creature's back. What the hell, why not? If it meant she would live... ..he'd do it. Ironic to think he'd care about someone beyond himself after all of these years of travel... Though, he stopped and stooped to thank the creature, "... ..thank you, Ereas." {e}*
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ where the girl had been cursed by a fairy in times past, for reasons Donnally could simply not muster to her befuddled memory as of yet, and Leith had experienced prejudiced treatment within his lifetime as well, most of which the owl-cursed girl would wish to press him about (and she would, he could be certain as the sun rises, the gabby lass would ask more about his background at a later time). The unlikely nurturing from the grim, dark-featured ranger continued, with subtle and small gestures toward the deteriorating owl girl. Muddy hair eased from her face, considerate digits feeling her brow for fever. She didn’t know his or even Ereas’s plans, even though the creature provided a few words to explain its goals for the pair, namely, to help deliver them to the shelter Leith had requested. What a bizarre series of events for all of them, so much so that it all could have accounted for the full breadth of escapades some people had in entire lifetimes, meanwhile it hadn’t even been quite a full day’s cycle since Leith and Donnally had met and they’d shared in it all already. maybe she was a trickster spirit after all, causing or maybe even luring so much trouble to the ranger’s life in such short time. Though the truth remained, she had been born a human babe, touched only by a fairy’s fickle curse. To Leith’s reply to support her unlikely kill that night, she gave a drunken, fatigued smile up at him while her eyes lidded out of sync, one blinking closed after the other in a sleepy way. she was glad she had done something that seemed to have pleased the stoic ranger, for all of her “newborn” uselessness, she’d accomplished something yet. If another brief lesson were being imparted upon her by the ranger through the words that he warmed against her ear, to admit weakness, she was too exhausted to consciously sort its purpose. Though what did happen was that she seemed to feel as if she were finally given permission to be as fatigued and worn as she was in those words, so her built up exhaustion crashed hard around her, and she slumped against the ranger, not unconscious, but sinking. It became timely, or maybe the ranger’s goal was fulfilled, that he lifted the drained former owl up from her tired legs, and held her to himself while he also carried her with him to the creature’s back. They accepted the transport it offered, and the shelter to come might have been the thing to truly stabilize the tired girl, medicinal attention and warmth included. Even the faint body heat that emanated through the ranger’s jerkin soothed the shivering thing in his arms, and ushered her closer to the sleep her body keened for. If Leith truly wouldn’t permit her to slip into sleep, to protect from some form of dangerous unconsciousness before her health was stabilized, every time he woke her, she’d grown and mumble incoherent pleas, bob her head again, and continue that cycle until she were, at last, permitted to rest. }-
Ereas's tail would slither out towards the wolf that Donnally had killed and coiled around it, Soon the spines on the tail would shoot out towards the other wolves that were lucky enough to not be devoured but killed. The spines would embed themselves into the flesh and soon something odd happened, What could be seen was the bodies now being pulled towards the tail. After a few moments about five extra wolf carcasses were strung along, It wouldn't be long now that Ereas would take off full speed to his home. It would take at least five or so minutes to reach it since they were near by it, The creature would slow himself before finally lowering himself and crawled through a hole that was creature made. Though once they had entered the creature would then circle about what looked to be a dry camp fire pit, There was wood and dried shrubs. The burrow seemed to be about the size of a large cave, When the sun rose during the morning's it's ray's would come through the hole but never shined upon it's face. The creature would circle once more before lowering itself down upon the stone, It was here were it would remain calm and still. Though his tail on the other hand would release all six carcasses of the wolves, Leaving them where they were. "Fire...make?" The creature spoke as it would look over towards the fire pit.<e>
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- If only he could reply to her inner thoughts at that moment about the rising sun and twittering of birds, her mouth gabbing away to the ranger whilst he attempted sleep {he couldn’t imagine sleeping in another room without the young thing and if they attempted to pry them apart, the ranger would only end up sleeping outside her door… ..that wouldn’t be relayed though.} Preconceptions would always come to a man like him whose face was riddled in scars, appearance weathered and rugged look, unwelcoming and unpleasant to those who dared to consider his direction. Hood was almost always drawn up over his head, hidden from their stares. Sadly, well attuned ears never held off the murmurous voices of those around him whenever he entered public establishments. Ruffian, rogue, street rat, dreck -- many names which hardly harbored any meaning for the elder male whose true home was the gentle sounds of the wilderness {and somehow the voluble, chipper maiden he decided to take underneath his wing, finding kind of warmth from her presence, even now where her small fingers curled into the cords of his jerkin to level herself amongst the muddied mess upon the forest floors.} This scenario felt unreal to him, who he had never experienced the tales in which were passed down amongst his brethren who foretold of similar experiences to this. Riding on the backs of dragons, saving helpless damsels {not so helpless because she did just stab a wolf in the brain}, and being faced with the mysticism of what these unknown woodlands offered him. If this girl was indeed a trickster spirit, he somehow still felt the need to help Donnally along. Just as she held absorption within his background, Leith secretly wanted to know more about this girl who landed into his lap not literally but figuratively. He noticed her drunken, fatigued smile as if she were one of his younger rangers seeking out their teacher’s approval {it was indeed granted with a tousle of her hair and firm grip to her thin shoulder.} In actuality, he may have presented himself to be apart of some group of wandering rangers that went beyond realms, seeking out truth and helping those in need but Leith was in charge of this particular assemblage. Meeting with his comrades only a few times out of the year to present information or to welcome those into his group whilst he went beyond the borders of his homeland... ..they all understood his need to be alone but if threats did come he had ways of communicating with comrades. The situation now presented itself in an unusual way, seeing the bodies of the wolves being dragged along with this walking creature until they came upon an area with light that flooded the inner caves, diving underneath winding pathways which provided safety and shelter. Upon the creature's inquiry, he nodded. Fire was made, Donnally was attended to and put near the fire, body covered in his cloak and jacket once they were dry enough. Wounds were cleaned, wolves were hung upside down, with the creature's help, and the ranger and Ereas now settled beside a roaring fire... ..what an unlikely happenstance. {e}
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leith
New Member
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Post by leith on Mar 5, 2017 18:12:04 GMT -8
Don't cry, look at the stars
-{ the owlette’s head kept bobbing with the weight of desired sleep, but the ranger kept purposefully disturbing that path for her. He was trying to keep her health stable before letting her rest, but he was answered with doleful little groans and pleas that never really formed whole words each time. She’d become distantly aware of the lack of rain, and the warmth from a fire. Of rough hands gently tending to her injuries. Of strangely comforting clicks that that creature had been making. Of a larger body that eased close to hers in a protective way, which was the last little nudge she needed before utterly falling into such a deep sleep, there were no dreams. Leith was kinder than she was when it came to letting the other sleep, because she’d slumbered well past dawn, into the light of a late morning. Her body needed it. She’d been set free from the owl imprisonment, had only begun remembering what it felt to be human again while coping with the deep arrow puncture wound in her arm where Leith had shot the owl, was nearly killed by a wolf, and shivered in rain. it was a rough return to humanity! Though she would not give it all up if it meant she could remain human and not get stuck as an owl again. Human as she was, she was changed. Aside from the befuddlement in transitioning back into her natural human form disturbing her memories, she had been fey touched through that curse, which might cause things in her life she’d not expect now. Only time could tell now what that stain on her existence would bring. When she did wake, she was not only clean, but dry and warm, too. Her arm was bandaged and the pain was numbed, probably from Leith’s salve reapplied. Cornflower eyes blinked open, and roamed around to seek out the ranger she’d essentially become a stray cat toward, like the one you feed once and it follows you everywhere. His coat and cloak were over her, bundled securely but loose enough that movement wouldn’t strain against her injured arm. “Leith!” She hooted in her contralto. It wasn’t an alarmed trill, bubbly more like. There was a smell of earth and stone around them, and lingering petrichor in her hair from the night’s rain and the mud that had clung to those mahogany strands. The owlet was awake and peeping sounds for attention with a kinked, slightly lost-looking, but candid smile. Though, she’d sat up too quickly and had been too eager to bounce back to life. “….ohhh….too fast….maybe I just close my eyes again for a few minutes….” Which turned into hours. the day came and went, and nightfall was upon the world before the sprightly girl revived again to give consciousness another shot. }-
Leḭtḧ : -:-Rough hands were gentle, grumbling vocals swept in with soothing rhythm -- these actions being repeated throughout the dark night to the girl underneath the ranger’s care. Salves were applied; bandages were wrapped and rewrapped to stave off the building infection. Slumber was not allowed for the small girl, her contralto vocals extended far into the evening, whines reverberating about the cave but still the ‘healer’ did not succumb to her requests. Mumbled sentences hardly made it to Leith’s ear, brown gaze filled with an intensity that could be compared to the nearby spitting fires. Upon breaking her fever near down, his long figure stretched out onto his side, elbow supporting the base of his head. Eyes looked on to the finally sleeping owl whose skin portrayed normal traits, her mahogany hair no longer being the more defining feature to her deathly looking freckled appearance. It was not until the break of primrose dawn mixed with purple, blueish hues that the bowman fell asleep himself, weapon cradled to his chest whilst his rough hand rested upon Donnally’s once fevered forehead. Where the mist crept along the ground and an orange haze filled the atmosphere giving hint it was later that morning, the elder ranger awoke, eyelids too heavy from absence of sleep {still the owlet did rest when he glanced upon her, hair and face alighted in warmth, contently shifting underneath his heavy leathers.} Much had transitioned in the past twenty-four hours to this wee lass, whose complexion radiated innocence whilst her hands said 'I can kill.’ She was going to need some good leathers and what she currently had {his own hunting leathers} was not going to do it. A decision was made, he was going to give her a gift of ‘passage.' Quiet to leave her side, Leith approached the large, white canines. All five wolves were properly hung the night prior, their fluids dripping out from their maws in the ranger’s approach of them. Into the pristine, white fur he cut, stripping them of their skin, easily peeling the outer skin away like bark from a tree. His dexterous hands tugged and pulled. coming up to their fluffy tails. Tug here, tug there, their flesh came apart by the guidance of his knife. Eventually he came to the base of their heads, slits for eyes coming to be shown through the gathered furs as he went about washing them in the low, pebble filled streams outside of the cave the ranger and owlet occupied. That creature which aided them was nowhere in sight now. Had it been some kind of an illusion? No. These forests spoke all on their own and they reached out to the two strangers, providing not only supplies but shelter as well. Furs were dried out in the sun and after they dried down... ..the real work began. A bone needle and string were pulled from his inner supply pack, utility knife cutting along the edges of the furs to evenly smooth them out. Amongst the furs, it was the wolf that the owlet had driven his dagger in that he focused upon. Determined to make the skin into a headdress for the young girl, stringing along leather strings into the sides of the once mighty wolf's jawline and eventually out through the back of its head, carefully weaving in and out about until the large skin was ready and folded. Leathers were smoothed out, measured, and sewn... ..to the best of his ability, he was no tailor but knew enough to make it fitting to Donnally's size {ironic considering he used his bow for length and measure as she was such a little thing to him.} It was as he was finishing up her made up leather, booted moccasins that he paused, looking over his shoulder to the direction in which he heard her calling out to him. Distress was not in her tone but signs of bubbly words were there {she was back to her old self.} Pushing himself off from the grounds near the end of the cave, he entered into its dank depths and his silhouette in came at the entrance. "...not so far." his grumbling voice started, "..stay right there... ..don't move." He approached her ever closer now, the orange glows of the fire dancing upon his approaching body. A light plop was heard as he dropped the folded wolf pelt and leathers {he had acquired earlier in the day by shooting down a wandering doe.} Awkwardness now came over him. ".... .." Placid glance stared down at the nymphlike girl and he swallowed, adam's apple visibly moving. Too late, she passed out, and would be awakened the next day to the folded wolf's pelt turned headdress, as well as a pair of leathers {pants and tunic, with booted moccasins, bedazzling was up to her... ..he didn't do that.} He sat with her a majority of the day, food ready and prepared to stir her senses should she awaken. And now, here she was, again, staring up at the roof of the cave with Leith sitting close to her, form drooping, head placed against his propped up bow as he 'napped.' {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ a relief filled her body, the sort a person learns from experience comes after illness, fatigue, and injury, when those things break and one’s health is nearer to full recovery. Though, she hadn’t been human for a long time, and she experienced ails as an owl differently than people do, so the relief she experienced now was novel and especially, and misleadingly, euphoric. this was part of her mistake earlier, she misread her body’s path to recovery, tried to wake up too soon, and then collapsed back into a full day’s worth of sleep. Her owlish sleep cycle prior didn’t help encourage her to be wakeful during the day though either. She had a lot of things to adjust to still, being in her natural human form again. She was learning of herself that she wasn’t a mopey kind of person, but peppy, eager to explore and bounce and talk and play. Were these just the outcomes of her rebirth into humanity? She couldn’t say, because she didn’t entirely know who she was before the fairy curse trapped her as an owl. She only knew how she was now, with faint memories sometimes guiding things she said or did, like her Irish thank you to Leith after he helped her (and even then she didn’t know what she was saying, it just seemed “right” at the time to say). Donnally, the girl who had been an owl, was awake again and awkwardly but eagerly sitting upright, hindered by her injured arm in its bindings. They seemed clean again, just as they had when she woke up before at the start of the day. moods could bring up memories in parallel moods in the past, so while Donnally was in a relaxed and cheery state, her mind burbled with lyrics to songs with words she did not know the meaning to. The sounds of the syllables remained in her memory, even if the connection to their translation were currently lost after her escape from the owl form. She already proved that she wasn’t a shy lass, she didn’t know what she should even be shy *of* because she’d lost so much of her social guidance to befuddled memories. The song sprung to mind when she’d seen the clothing folded beside her, clearly crafted from the wolves that had been slain the night before by them all. “Char bhé'n sneachta ná an siocán aduaidh,” bubbled the contralto lass while she stood up, seeing Leith laying nearby, assuming he was asleep. The owl girl dropped the cloak and leathers the ranger had swaddled her in where she had rested, her freckled body once again bare. “Char bhé'n séideán géar fuar ón oirthear,” churned the song from memory quietly but happily. She plopped the top of the wolf’s mouth designed as the crown of her headdress and attached cloak on first, laughing while her eyes were covered in the creature’s maw, and gamboled about the dim fire, the white furs draped across her back turning the owlette into a wolf, it was delightful to the capering lass! “Char bhé'n fhearthainn a phlúchann aniar!” she warbled on, still utterly ignorant of the meaning of the song. she hopped a loop around the fire, and returned to the joyful novelty of pants, a simple piece that looked designed to cover her upper body, and even little shoes of fresh leather! She swooped down beside these, and wriggled into it all gradually, still carrying on the mysterious song for awhile. “….ach an galar a tháinig aneas,” she slowed to an end as her feet burrowed into the moccasins. Shadows cast across Leith’s long facial features, where she wasn’t entirely sure if he was asleep or not, but thrilled in the gift *he* had laid out for her in this custom outfit for her, and still not the best at personal boundaries, she pounced the poor, beleaguered ranger where he lay on his side. “WhoooOOO!” she sought to imitate a wolf, but still blended too much owl into it. “Leith! I was an owl, a girl, and now, you turned me into a wolf! Ohhh, thank you! This is the best thing I can ever remember owning!” Frankly, she couldn’t remember anything she had ever owned through the transformation’s befuddlement. The owlet-turned-girl-turned-“wolf” hoot/howled again while perched as best she could be (she lacked the sturdy talons of an owl, you see), upon the ranger who seemed doomed to never sleep again whilst the owlette remained around. “Take me exploring! I want to see everything! Tell me every story you know! Leeeith, wake up!” by this point, the poor man was probably very obviously awake for all the ruckus the useless little thing was making. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- Leith’s body readily took to the stages of ‘sleep’, body aching from the long hours whilst watching over this sleeping girl. How were his group of rangers going to react when they found out he took this random young thing underneath him? It was a strange occurrence indeed to see the elder, grumbling ranger took on another so young {especially a girl.} He held no dislike for women, just, seeing him with one was considered out of the norm for one who usually spent his time within thick forests warding off those who were unwelcomed. Ears were ever alert, open to the sounds around him but both eyes took to resting for once. Fingerless gloves reaffirming their grasp upon the slick wooden bow, light content breaths leaving him making it seem that he was at rest… ..when he was really not. Beside him, the warmth of the fire beckoned and his forehead drooped further against the bow in his hands, mouth slightly open. S…sn…snore – no, stay awake. Be alert. His earlier training as a younger ranger tapped him upon the shoulder, reawakening his senses once again, scoping the area for any undesirable presences. Though, he knew while the owlet’s body continued to heal, he had to watch over her… ..why? He stopped questioning himself then, focusing his hearing. However much time it would take, he would continue to nurse the lassie back to full health {even if it meant he would have to stand her gabbiness in the next passing days when she was well enough to hold an actual ‘conversation’… ..which would lead to him just grunting or staring stone-faced at her.} Leith knew it would take more than just two days of sleep to see that this girl was fully healed, so little she was and it seemed that her growth rate was stalled somewhere along the line due to her height…maybe because of whoever cursed her stalled her growth? Magic was not foreign to him, he acknowledged its power, just as the woodlands and their just as the woodlands held their sway over the circle of nature. What he did not comprehend was how her body was transitioning from owl to girl… ..she had to be awake now, she had to eat food, she had to be sheltered -- all things he provided {despite his appearance, he was ‘good to her’ as she put it a few days prior when they first met -- good, yeah, when it was needed, otherwise he was was rather unwelcoming to civilization.} Human decency was rare to find nowadays and the woodlands here thought it appropriate to bestow this random girl upon him… ..but why now? His mind began to mull again. This subject was not an easy one for him to touch upon. Small hints of fondness were found towards Donnally, her sprightly demeanor contrasted against his grim and grumbling older appearance yet he was – h….ha…happy? His ears did perk in hearing the creaking of leather but such only signified to him that the girl moved about in her sleep. Drooping further against his bow, a soft sigh escaped, aged brows twitching as there was more movement from the owlet. Let it go, let her sleep. Too late, her contralto voice echoed about the cave, letting her leathers drop to the ground as bare feet patted against the floors. Urrrgh, let me rest, please, let me rest, his internal voice groaned and opening his eyes, dark brown orbs with light flecks of hazel reflected the dancing, naked heathen sporting the wolven headdress he bestowed to her as a gift. He did not know this song she busted out in full, high pleasant soprano but it had a euphonic effect upon his ears, reminding him of his own homelands. He had not heard such singing in so long and he wanted her to continue… ..that was until she called out to him, causing him to slightly flinch as he had become entranced by the other’s singing. It more than appeared she was happy with the ‘gifts’, small hands picking up the shoes she received, even moving about the tunic gleefully {whilst giggling and twirling like a certain lassie within his youth… ..an old sweetheart – too old to get sentimental, drop it.} Pushing himself up into a sitting position when she called out to him, the dancing shadows of the nearby fire hid his ‘sleepy’ looking position and before he could address her appropriately he was the one staring up at the ceiling as this girl’s mahogany locks tickled at his whiskered, scarred face after she outright *tackled* him with her weight. “… ..!!!” His breath was temporarily taken out from the ranger and he let out a heavy 'piff' of air, feeling as if he were an owner enduring the thankfulness of their pet whenever they were fed or received a new toy. "...you're a wolf now," he began, "... ..though maybe a pup considering your energetic demeanor.." His rugged features took on a deadened expression, eyelids slanting towards the girl who was moving his form from side to side with such exuberant energy -- he was getting too old for this. "...let's go." Leith did not acknowledge the sprightly little thing about stories but he would eventually humor her in his shortened way of speaking. Bones ached and cracked, body shifting from side to side until he found his footing again. Grabbing hold of his bow, he started off near the edge of the cave, expecting the young lassie to follow in after the older, unpleasant bowman. "...sun came first, then rain, then plants, then animals... ..then loud girls." Tipping his head, he looked over his shoulder then to see her expression {he still held a placid complexion though.} {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ the girl was hungry, a bit thirsty, too, but most eager to bedevil Leith with her gaiety over the wolf pelts that constituted the rough outfit the ranger had crafted for her so she wouldn’t prance around naked or close to it while wearing only his coat. She hadn’t fallen from her branch as an owl with human clothing, after all. Prior, those mottled feathers had been her “clothing.” she was far, *far* less observant than the ranger. She also was still largely adjusting to seeing and hearing the world through human senses, where some colors were missing, others restored, and fine details were lost in sound (were there suddenly *no* mice in the world? Where were their scratchy feet on leaves or stone?). When opportunity to swoop down with merry harassment toward the ranger, the song had been displaced and left in her wake. Maybe in other moods other songs would spark up from her impaired memories. The staggered puff of breath she’d pounced out of the ranger acted as a thermal for her spirit’s wings to open over and rise upon. If he ever scolded her harshly for her innocent gaiety, he’d probably crush her. though didn’t everyone need to learn some boundaries? Maybe one day he’d come to the end of his rope with her and lay stern reprimand with cold expressions, but that day hadn’t yet come. Her mahogany hair draped over and around his face whilst she hovered over him, making her cheerful demands of the outsider. His face remained stony, while hers pipped with verve. She accepted his description of her as a wolf pup, because human or wolf, she was too “new” to both to know how to be of any use in her skin (or the dead wolfs’). A laugh tumbled through her freckled lips, and she slid off to the side as the larger ranger sat up despite her small weight that had toppled against him in “wolf pounce,” plopping on her now clothed rear. The girl grinned all the while, even when she winced briefly with a miscalculated move that agitated her wounded arm. She found slight disappointment when it seemed Leith would disregard her request for stories, but then, after a silence and grim airs, the ranger actually teased her with a short telling of the world, concluding with the arrival of loud girls. the former owl gamboled in Leith’s wake, cheery and awkward to his stony, stoical steadfastness. Donnally was still fairly attuned to a nocturnal schedule, and after a solid day of sleep, she was ready to frolic about. Though, her body cautioned against it, for she had developed that infection and subsequent fever, and her arm was still restricted in healing bindings. “Whooo, do you hear them, Leith?” the girl brightened in the moonlight that illuminated the cave’s entryway. For all of the lass’s gabbiness, it would be a surprise for either of them to hear *anything.* Though, the calm, distant trill of owls purred something familiar into the night air to the girl. “I know that lonely song!” she reflected aloud, not sad for it, though. Donnally frolicked ahead of Leith, skipping a few steps here or there, messing up the rhythm, needing to hop, or walk a few sudden steps, then skipped again. The night lights glowed upon the white fur of her wolf pelts, while shadows of mahogany hair licked and twisted around the sides. She circled back toward the ranger in his steady pace sometimes, only to whisk away again while humming the tune she’d remembered earlier. Having exerted some of her energy, she danced her way back toward the grim ranger, perhaps as the happiest anyone had ever approached him, bare of biases against him, and really, as the only person she could recall ever knowing, he meant a great deal to the silly thing who followed him like a stray cat. her personal barriers hadn’t been forced yet, so she eased up beside the ranger, slinking her good arm up upon his side if he didn’t block it or move away from her reach. Her gait was slightly awkward for her lack of movement in the other arm, and for how she took her eyes from the path they walked and kept them cast upward, eager for the archer to share more stories of his life with her. Stories of being human, memories of being a man, where she had been trapped in the bindings of the owl’s feathers for so long. “Was it for money? Did they try to kill you? Was it for love? Were you a warrior? Did you kiss someone? I can’t remember kisses, but a song in my head mentions them sometimes when the words aren’t gibberish. Was it a great fight? Did he die?” the owlet’s stream of consciousness questions flowed like a babbling stream, not intended to annoy him, even if she did. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- Yeah, the merriment was felt all right. Body ached yet she hardly weighed a thing when she pressed up on him in granting her the ability to dress without being covered in his leathers. By the way, those were collected on his way out after she slid off from him in that awkward position, cheeks riddled with a slight flush that may have been confused from the warmth of the fire. Personal space was not an issue to the young thing, whose naked body practically clung to his only two days prior, bouncing about as if it would have no effect upon the older man… ..she was innocent, she didn’t between moral and immoral situations {maybe she did in her past but fragments of those memories were still encased within her owlet turned human brain.} Despite how he came off, the ranger did not appear vexed from her hovering appearance...embarrassed if anything, her long hair tickling different angles of his face before she slowly slid away from his stony gaze, brown eyes watching the grinning thing finally slip away fully from his side. Outwardly, he was fine, internally the taciturn felt something swell within him due to the fragrant scent she naturally gave off to his already sensitive senses – ah, that caused the older bowman mortification but he did not outright show it, shifting about in his spot.} After he exited the cave, body felt whole again once he placed on the strong leather coat over the sleeveless jerkin upon his brawny frame, adjusting and retightening the strings to his liking before focusing on the developing darkness before him. Travel worn boots crushed the forestation underneath his feet once he was fully outside of the cave, eyes focusing to the midnight skies above, stars twinkling throughout the open spaces of hanging canopies overhead. Tug, tug, the bow upon the ranger’s shoulder was adjusted and he now waited for that sprightly youth to come running out into cool spring air. Jerky would be presented to her should she feel the need to take it, as well as some fresh water he recently filled up into his canteen {other than that, he held back for the youthful, freckled girl now deemed ‘wolf pup’ as well as owlet and… ..many other small nicknames the ranger came in with fondness.} Seeing the miscalculation in her shifting movements, he had an idea but whilst he teased her, yeah, actually teased her about the creation of life with his known stoic personality – Leith procured one long, cut up linen to the girl. What was he planning to do with that? Despite her chitter-chatter, he still discerned the woodland’s sounds around him and a very light smile came to occupy his face after her latest reflection upon hooting owls whose presence signified there was small prey near for them to hunt. “…I hear what you heard.. owls…bats..deer…no wolves this time..” he stated lightly with a twinkle in his eye, his taller form hovering nearest to the girl as she circled towards him in his steady pace throughout the woods, eyes and ears open to all things around him {even the giddiness radiating off the pelted wolf pup trailing behind him like his own shadow…was welcomed fully.} Her dancing, her energy, all things which reminded him that he was not young but she kept him further on his toes… ..especially since she had a habit of drawing away only then come back towards him. He stopped mid stride when she owlishly slanted her head into his direction, inquisitiveness eating away at her in the latest question pertaining to the scars upon his countenance. Silence overcame him. Propping the bow beside him, brown eyes with hazel flecks narrowed in on the twittering lass, shaky breath taken. “…my wife’s father.” After giving his answer, the male turned towards Donnally. Extending his rough, gloveless fingertips towards her, pointer finger bent into coaxing. If she stepped into the grim ranger’s direction, he would gently run his calloused hand along her pained arm and began working the long linen into a sling about her thin shoulders. Digits smoothly running around her ribcage and then, he spoke, “Up.” A verbal command for her to put her slender, freckled arms upwards whilst he entwined the linen underneath her armpit making the support successful. “… ..love had a play in it, yes. One wife. Two girls. Not a warrior, a soldier underneath my wife’s father.” Letting his words fully weigh in on the girl, he stood in silence – the ambience around them seemed to be so much louder now that they weren’t talking. So quiet you could even hear yourself blink but such ended when his grumbling voice broke through, “They died of the plague. I couldn’t save them.” He paused, his unused voice becoming scratchy until he sated it with water, “… ..in grief, he blamed me, and said what I did was not enough. He attacked with his loss for his little girl, gave me the scars… ..burnt my face, my body. I killed him. I left. I formed a certain group to reach out to those who are threatened and took what skills I learnt in the army, bettering myself for it.” This was the first time he had spoken the most in forever, vocals feeling the soreness of it all, another swig of water being taken, thirst being quenched for now. Voice cracked. "...I have only kissed one in my lifetime." Easing away from the owlet, he began to trek across the moss covered floors once again, his steps taken slowly for her to catch up. There was not anything pretty in the way he presented these hard facts but it was just the way it was, he didn't know how she'd take it {her mind needed to start reworking itself again though.} {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ when Donnally had gamboled by the ranger, she’d missed the offer of jerky and water on the first pass, but in returning to his side to pour her questions and curiosities upon him, blue eyes caught sight of the offerings, which she thoughtlessly sought to reach for with her bound up arm, finding herself bumbling and restricted. “Oh.” The retracted her hand from his side to take the canteen first and take it to her freckled lips. She wasn’t a good ranger, or rather, a ranger at all, so she didn’t have a sense for conservation. The vessel was nearly emptied entirely to slake her thirst. She gasped for the cool, earthy air once she was finished, offering the canteen back to the grim ranger in exchange for the morsel of jerky, which she chomped whole. Oh….not an owl. She coughed, but managed not to kill herself with a piece of food just yet. When she’d posed her questions to him in all of her dynamism and curiosity, the ranger went more silent and distant then she’d ever yet seen. She reflected on her own words, wondering if she’d said something offensive, but not even sure *what* was offensive to people anymore. “I-….did I-….was something-….” She began to sputter around ultimately trying to ask him if she had done something wrong or finally pushed the ranger past his patience limit for her. They had only a moment before been actually carrying on in mirthful teasing, from *both* parties, the grim ranger included….and now, he had fallen morose and more distant than ever prior in her brief experience with the outsider. Leith then answered after a long, weighted silence. Oh, but his answers felt far worse than his brooding silence before! His wife’s father did this to him? His wife’s father was the bad man he’d described before? Her face was devoid of any talent to disguise her feelings yet, so the dismay lay in miserable shadows upon her freckled countenance at this information. Meanwhile, the ranger himself carried on with his grim stoicism, stepping toward her and giving his efficiently brief instructions again, which she followed, lifting her arms and adjusting as he needed while wrapping that linen around her injured limb. Oh, he made a sling for it! “How can you think to make this for me when you have the saddest story I know of on the air….?” She mewled in a tremulously sad way. It *was* the truth, she knew almost nothing of true, living stories from other people with her befuddled memories. He had a wife and two children in some other lifetime? Plague? A father-in-law crazed with grief? It was too much for the reborn owl girl, she hadn’t been primed with lighter sorrows yet, but she *had* asked. Her mouth became an uncertain line while blue eyes blurred with tears. She had lingered where she had been once the story he told really had begun to hit her, while the ranger kept walking on. He had lost the love of his life, the only one he’d kissed, his family, perhaps more, too! It was so much for the owlet to handle without earlier sorrows to recall and buffer herself with. from behind the grim ranger, the sounds of the mahogany owlet’s whimpers caught the night air, and she was weeping into her one good hand. She didn’t know better to be embarrassed at this sort of thing, nor how to keep back the consequences of sorrows. “I don’t remember if I had anything good or ill..!” she trilled after a time. She had tried to search her own memories, but they were an unintelligible mess. “I think that means I’m dead, too!” She lamented through soggy words and sniffles. Or, she meant that a version of herself was dead, for the girl stood plainly alive there in the wilderness. She hadn’t had a cathartic moment over all of her lost memories, which probably held the hints to a life once lived, and the people she once knew, and perhaps even loved. the wolf’s face stared with empty eyes out after the ranger, filled with strands of mahogany hair, while her face turned downward into her hand. How was he not miserable? She couldn’t comprehend how he held himself together with his tale – yet she had much to remember and much to learn, too. She sat, rump thudding to the ground wherever she stood, plopping suddenly, with a diminished interest in exploring now. They were only out at all because she had beleaguered the poor ranger to guide her about to relearn what she could of the world. Well, she got what she wished for, a lesson from the world. It wasn’t cheerful, not always. The world was difficult and filled with heartbreaking trials. So the owlet wept upon relearning this. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : Sustenance was given in the form of salted jerky and water – he knew her young body couldn’t survive on that forever and traveling to town within the next few days was imminent…that was if she decided to stay with him after his latest exchange of words in regards to his past. Her sense of conversation would come in time, limbs and the working of muscles were still new to her and he knew this, that youthful body of hers was like a newborn babe. The speckled maiden’s thirst was indeed quenched and the dried meats were offered afterwards where she happily plucked them from the tips of his extremities. All seemed all right for now until she tipped back her head taking the jerky as a whole like an owlet taking in a whole field mouse – his natural reaction was to reach out and offer a hard pat to her back before she choked herself to death {yet she righted herself, coughing afterwards with a brief teary expression from the unexpected gag.. ..this relieved him.} Long minutes of silence passed between them when he stopped midstride, letting the permeating sounds of the wilderness engulf these two before he found reason to speak. In his peripheral, he saw her begin to to panic as if she had caused offensive to him but it was farther from the truth than the owlet’s mind construed. Lightly, he shook his head to the side, scraggly tucked hair coming out unbiddenly from his hood. Somberness etched itself into the ranger’s scarred face, jaw tightening, eyes narrowing in on the small girl who thought her words had jabbed him to his limited patience for her {again, the poor thing was wrong and let her mind get the better of her.} His cryptic expression was unreadable whilst he attended to her arm with the self-made sling but the weight of his words in relation to his story were enough for the owlet to understand why the way he was… ..and why he felt the need to protect {at least, he hoped she understood it enough.} In a way, the sprightly youth reminded him of his brightly crimson haired wife with engaging green eyes. Donnally was not her though and he wouldn’t allow his fondness for the other to be messed upon in remembrance of his dead wife. After the ranger made sure that the bindings were tight upon her forearm, he now began to see the emotion begin to creep up onto the girl’s freckled, creamy face. This had not been his intent. The way she whimpered and breathed out with errant, tremulous breaths had him refocusing his attention upon the lass within the surrounding darkness. “… ..long time ago.” His growling voice answered, a tiny hint of heartachr mixed in with his statement but he did not mention further upon it. Answer was simple enough. It carried no hurt for him now, he shed no tears – the elder man was beyond that and he accepted his losses. Travel worn boots carried the male further over the rocky forest floors but he stopped when he realized that his shadow was no longer trailing behind him. Leith understood that the subject was sensitive, it no doubt stirring accounts of emotions within the own girl’s life as she expressed his grief through her spills of hot, streaming tears down lightly flushed, freckled cheeks. Falling back onto his heels, he stopped in front of her whilst she wept for him, lamenting over not only the ranger's losses but hers as well -- for she had no memory of her previous life, "...you died when I hit you with my arrow. Naked into the world you came. Born." Simplistic in nature were his words but to a sobbing girl, it possibly would not be comprehend too well right now because of the emotions running through her mind. Seeing her plop herself to the ground at his feet, he slowly crouched in front of the maiden, intense gaze focused upon the bemoaning girl. Leathers creaked in his descent to face her directly but a hand extended brazenly towards the top of her head and he tousled the young thing's mahogany locks. Drooping over the other, his whiskered face was placed to her temple, and he lightly kissed her temple before drawing back. "... ..pass nearby. Come look at the stars." He did not touch upon her latest question in how he could live with himself and not be wallowing in his own grief -- this pretty much answered it though, keep moving. {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ Donnally’s sobs weren’t loud, but they were heartfelt and burdened with sorrow. She cried into her good hand, wilting forward with parted lips that spilt her whimpers. She was heartbroken for the both of them. No matter what he said or didn’t say, she knew the pieces that meant the most. A long time ago? She could hear the lament in his tone, for he rarely spun too much emotion into his stoic, gruff voice, so when it manifested at all, she was starting to notice, however small. He lost his loved ones and he knew it. She didn’t know if she lost hers, because she didn’t even know who they were anymore, if they even existed. The owlet felt heavy and anchored to where she plopped on her rear with the weight of these sad tales. Though, she had to learn to bear unhappy things again if she were truly to return to humanity, which she desired. It just wasn’t an easy journey, and she was only just reborn to it. Leith’s shadow stretched over the little owl girl on the ground weeping, and a hand weighed to her crown, and ruffled her hair. It was a strange comfort, that tousle, and she answered it with a sniffle. when the ranger stooped to a crouch before her, his shadow still lengthened across her smaller form, but cornflower eyes rimmed in inflammation and glossy tears rose up with an eager underlying hope, even if she didn’t identify what she might hope for or expect. No matter how grim or stoic he might ever seem, she only saw his good, and efficient deeds that saw her well, and spoke of an overall underlying good soul. He might not have even wanted anyone to look at him long enough to make those determinations, but the owlet truly had become something of his shadow, gamboling around and after him to form the most unlikely pair. Her whimpers stilled when the ranger sucked that subtle intake of breath in the way she’d observed he would before he spoke (he was the only person she could remember in her entire life, so she was observant of him). His words, when they came, she didn’t entirely find the comfort she had paused as much of her “noisy girl” sounds as she could to receive. Her quiet only crumbled into another, renewed little sob. She didn’t want to attribute anything related to her symbolic deaths to him. “No, n-no…-” she mewled, interrupted by a hiccup. “I was trapped, I was going to disappear forever if I stayed as that owl! I was starting to forget my own name entirely, the pain, I remember the pain, it struck something that scared me into remembering… Donnally…. Donnally… I’m still Donnally because of you…!” she blubbered to the outsider. “S-so really, you saved me, Leith…. Well, in a strange twist of fate. You saved me as Donnally….and when you knew I was more than a bird, you kept me alive….” Now her sentimentality was teetering from sorrows to fondness, for she was raw and it was easy to shift around the tumult of her rocking feelings. It didn’t make them any less real, her fondness was deep and sincere toward this unlikely ally to her, who could have left her behind to fend for herself and most likely die. When the dark-featured ranger leaned over her, Donnally only looked expectantly toward her only companion, welcoming everything about him into her tiny world. She hadn’t anticipated his whiskers to brush to her temple, which stirred a candid, quiet trill of a laugh through a slantwise smile. Then he kissed her brow there, too, and all of her sorrows from earlier were soothed. They weren’t gone, but given a balm stronger than the salve he provided to her injuries it was her turn to be quiet, and her blue eyes gazed off as if through his leathers and to some fairy realm beyond him maybe. The ranger rumbled in his kindly way to invite her near, and watch the stars with him, which drew her up from her distant, captivated haze. The observant ranger might have recognized some subtle hints of what she did not know to identify yet in her body language, the way one postures while they swell with fond happiness for another. Though the lass’s air rose up in a chipper way at his invitation, and the wolf-clothed owlet bound with demand that he brace for impact and cradle her smaller form at his side for this “event” he invited her near for. She melded down against his side while she forced room for herself, and when she sat, and a few moments went by with blue eyes turning into reflections of the starry sky, mouth partially agape with hints of her cheerful smile, the owlet turned a trickster face up toward her ranger companion (enhanced by the wolf’s muzzle and empty eyes resting atop her head). “Now you’ve kissed two!” as a triumphant, spirited tease. It was far from the type of kiss he had probably implied, but it was the only kiss she remembered receiving in her own lifetime. She plopped firmly against his side, quietly hummed the earlier song in good spirits, and watched the night sky wheel by. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : A human’s body was a miraculous thing. It could heal wounds, stave off infection, and protect you from certain elements… ..yet out of all the things within your body -- the time to heal a heart filled with dolor took its time. For some, alleviating twinges of sorrow were easily done. For others, sorrow remained for an eternity. Plopped before his booted feet; amongst the moss, sticks, and scattered stones of the forest this girl wept. In this one singular moment, the woodlands quieted. Birds perched on branches, foxes watched with slitted mischievous eyes from their dens, and deer stilled in movement to hear those small cries ringing throughout. Through the streaming blur of salty tears, Donnally would see an impassive face upon Leith. It was then his latest words which would hurl her emotions into feeling anchored. This usually sprightly flower wilted, the sun gone from her, roots placed so far into the ground that perhaps no amount of tugging would spring her forth into warmth again. The stony ranger felt for her, his body shifting into a crouched position before the freckled girl to extend this strange comfort which slowed the tears, rough palm moving from side to side upon her head which tousled her thick, mahogany locks. In the past, it had been easy to quell a little girl’s tears or to press a kiss to a certain wife’s lips to hush her disquiet but this… ..this was like reopening an unsaid chapter within leather bound book that was ‘his life.’ Leith wanted to provide some comfort to her; she quietened and listened, giving an inkling to him on how this girl was fairly perceptive of him when he took in that delicate breath prior to speaking. Still, the tears found themselves again at the edge of her long lashes and they spilt into continuous rivulets. His limited vocabulary had been meant with sincerity though he supposed he could have gone a different way about it as the owlet turned wolf pup mewled in her sadness at him, hiccupping afterwards with stumbling words. A tiny part of him expected her to say that his ‘attempts’ at comfort were horrid, instead she came forth words which brought renewal to their conversation. Words pinpointing that the male was not her grim reaper rather he was to be seen as some sort of ‘hero’ for rescuing the doomed Donnally from the feycurse which plagued her for… ..who knows how long. Perhaps this was the reason why the forest put these two strangers on the same path -- out here all things happened for specific reasons {they both were only just beginning to unfold the complicated layers of their personalities… ..but for the girl, she was just discovering who she was and Leith’s walls were beginning to crack.} Somberness was no longer here. The weighty atmosphere teetered all because of this jaunty lass. Her wide, owlet eyes radiated fondness whilst edges still held tinges of remaining sadness. The remaining despair was easily brushed away just as a dandelion’s florets taking to the spring winds, a slanted smiling following afterwards. Those words were taken in and Leith expressed his equal fondness of her by tickling the freckled, little thing’s temple with his whiskers, kissing her cool brow afterwards. Yes, she lived because of him. He would not beholden that to her… ..she was free to make her choices, free to be what she wished with this new life offered, free to still mourn and free to step forward with a lightened heart filled with heavy memories {the road would be arduous but whoever said life was easy?} This small owlet stirred long forgotten emotions or rather refreshed them. Donnally’s ebullient demeanor caused a brief kindle within the placid ranger’s eyes, the building flame extinguishing when he decided to invite the other then to come view those glistering stars above. He waited, weathered leathers creaking in his movements. Leith came to survey her expression, his joints immediately bracing for impact when he saw her preparing to move in towards him {movements he had memorized in their brief time together these past few days.} “… ..!!” There had been enough time to react and dodge the other’s wiggling frame but he welcomed it, letting out a low grumble afterwards as she melded to his brawny frame. Motions were taken to grab her small hand and tug her along the suggested path {whilst she clung the entire way, burbling in her singsong voice and asking what constellations were which.} After they found their spot in the open field where swards of green grass were just beginning to grow, he felt her push up into his side. This did not bother him but what internally mortified him was when the owlet tipped that head of hers in a way, looking through the slits of her wolven headdress to triumphantly claim she was his second. In the overwhelming darkness, his own scarred visage held slight redness to it. Damn this little thing. Somehow, his voice broached through and it cracked upon use, “…shooting star passed by.” he said suddenly wanting to dismiss the prior subject, raising his hand up towards the heavens as a distraction. “Sagittarius is out…he’s an archer who is said to help along many..” How was it that this girl could pierce his defenses so easily? He who had wandered alone for so long…was speaking more than he had in the last decade… ..while it was the woodlands who placed her unceremoniously into his direction, he felt an overwhelming need to protect her and dare he think it… .. felt drawn to her {let thoughts stay thoughts, a young vibrant girl held no interest in an old man like him, let it stay like that... ..he would continue to wordlessly shelter her regardless.}
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leith
New Member
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Post by leith on Mar 5, 2017 18:31:14 GMT -8
We kindle the flames, you and I {part 1 of 2}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ the ranger had consoled the owlet, who had once been in sorrowful tears, now mollified by his quiet but sincere kind attentions. If there were any who found the outsider as off putting or unpleasant, from her experiences, she would never understand those perspectives. Leith had been only things the owlet could admire in her experience. It was only natural to her to feel so attached to the stoic ranger. He could cast grim or stony expressions, but even in those, she found a cheerfulness, sometimes moving her to frolic about him while he stood in statuesque stillness. Donnally was invited by the ranger to put away her sorrows and instead enjoy a simple observation of the stars. It was a good, uplifting diversion for the owlet, whose cornflower eyes still bore the remnant sheen of her earlier tears. Even if Leith hadn’t spoken in response to the way she sprang into him, his body language and exhalation delighted the sprightly lass. She spilled a trill of quiet laughs, encouraged to hold more enthusiastically to the stoic ranger’s side by that reaction, nuzzling the side of her freckled face against the weathered leathers about his burly frame. Whenever Leith sought to guide or instruct the owlet, she easily and trustingly took to his suggestions without complaint or even question. That could prove a dangerous naivety for her one day, but so far the ranger had steered her well. So when he adjusted that he might take her hand into his to lead her to a better place to view the stars, her good hand hid well into his and she complied contentedly. She couldn’t remember if anyone had ever held her hand before, so as far as her known experiences, he was the only one who had. If anyone had ever kissed her brow or held her hand in the past, those memories were damaged and possibly lost thanks to the fey curse. Leith had to know she had either been affected by ill willed magic, or was truly just a trickster fairy or sprite of some sort all along. Yet, he remained with her, to whatever risk to himself. To her knowledge, she was alike to him, just a human with a past punctuated by potent twists of fate. She was happy tottering along there in the ranger’s shadow, so unabashed, she hummed contented notes. When the ranger found a suitable viewing area to sit, she scurried without care for personal space, and nestled warm and comfortable within the shelter of the grim ranger’s side. He hadn’t ever repelled her before, so she held no caution or reservation about her candid wish to settle snug against him. The owlet was observant of her only companion in the world she could recall, namely Leith, but by the night’s dark, with the limitations of human eyes relative to nocturnal owls, and stars to consider, the ranger slid by without Donnally noticing the flush of fluster to his usually stoic face. The crackle in his voice when he spoke up was attributed to a strain in speaking so much already with the gabby lass, so all she sounded in reply was a lured in, “Whoo-ooo~” at the shooting star the moment she caught sight of it. The silly thing tried to point at it with her other hand, but the sling and bandaging upon it kept that arm restrained, and for good reason. He had already pointed it out, but the gesture she failed at had merely been an enthusiastic kneejerk reaction. “So you’re like the constellation!” She announced in an honest burble, blue eyes turning owlish up at an angle toward his bearded face. She was fortunate to have found a living, human Sagittarius, she decided, and it was true more so than she might realize. Between earlier tears and now comfort, the owlet was pushed toward fatigue, and while she prodded the ranger with a series of questions about the stars, constellations, and their backstories, her words gradually slowed, then became slurred, and then her sentences became fragments, until only islands of indiscernible sounds were occasionally made in place of words. Her eyes weighed closed without her remembering when it happened. The hour was late enough to have curved into the predawn dark, about the time the formerly nocturnal owl might have glided back to a nook to shelter in for daylight hours. When next the owlet came to consciousness, she was back in the cave, bundled in furs and leathers for warmth and comfort beside a low, crackling fire. Leith must have carried her back to this impromptu home that that strange creature had offered to them. when she did stir, the ranger was there, in quiet watch over her slumber. “Leith!” she hooted in waking greeting. Though, he instructed her to stay behind, and remain in the cave, which did seem to draw a droop about her shoulders, but as always, she agreed to his guidance. The owlet watched the ranger leave, a slight sense of forlorn, but she had full trust that he would return to her, and had good reason for his requests. So she spent her day in that burrow, toying with the wolf pelts, humming, and generally partaking in restless efforts to entertain herself. Her downfall came when a small rabbit had tumbled into that cave, and blue eyes watched it skitter here and there, twitching its nose endlessly. It spooked, and the former nocturnal predator, now a silly girl again wearing wolf pelts, scampered after it. Her mind justified going to the mouth of the cave as alright. Then going out around the opening would be alright as well. Though, one justification after the other, Donnally was wandering about the trees beyond the cave, marveling at the world through her human senses. She hadn’t meant to go against Leith’s wishes, not intentionally. The day had gone by and she’d become stir crazy alone in that cave. Was it late afternoon now? She couldn’t see where the sun was under a roll of clouds that had pushed in over the sky. Leith probably could still tell the proper time of day even through thick clouds, but the owlet was no ranger, and daytime hours were still foreign to her after all that time trapped as an owl. She was hungry, too, but what use was she in this human body she had to relearn? She lacked talons and the ambush of silent wings and a sharp beak. She also only had one useful arm. So she couldn’t hunt anymore, she would have to relearn how to do that in this body with soft limbs and rounded digits and loud steps on leaves and poor eyesight relative to the owl’s. Though, the rabbit darted through a lush shrub, drawing Donnally’s cornflower eyes to a swarm of bright berries around the leaves. “Whoooo~” she cooed in an owlish sound of delighted surprise. Berries would be an acceptable substitute! Leith would be proud she managed to do *something* for herself, too, right? She did feel useless, even if she enjoyed the ranger taking care of her. so the owlet ambled toward that bush, squat in front of it, and began to examine the berries for the best looking ones, though didn't pluck any just yet. With her wolf headdress and furs, she had to look like a silly and strange canine suddenly interested in flora. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- Last night, stars hadn’t been the only thing to fall out in the dark night… ..for the glistening tears of the owlet were caught by the eyes of Leith as he looked on. His way of consolation came in awkward pats to her head and tousling her mahogany locks. In the end, she became her sprightly self again, giggling afterwards whilst he guided the small thing towards the outskirts of the forest to focus on the vastness – where he concluded would be the first time in ages her cornflower eyes focused on such glistering lights. Oh so tightly she clung to his side, anchoring them both into the dewy open grasses. It was her voice that spoke the most that night, bouncing about exuberantly whilst her free hand {the other sadly burdened by her splint} was guided personally by the rough bowman’s larger hand, pinpointing constellations in the firmament above them. Stories were told, stars were named. Throughout that eve, there were a lot of 'firsts' for the owlet. Tears that were to be kept {but awkwardly counseled}, a kiss to the brow, a tight but warm handhold, and the explanation of how these blazing lights came to be suspended in air. Her ebullient reply towards upon him mentioning his relation to the constellation Sagittarius had the grim ranger becoming slightly flustered but he did not let this relay this as he explained the next round of stars that peaked over the sky {the dark night helped him at least... ..creating shadows upon his scarred face whilst he moved about, gloveless fingers splaying against the backdrop ahead of them.} And as the skies transitioned to the early hues of dawn, they remained sitting out amongst the crawling mists whilst the sun attempted break through the hovering, gathered clouds overhead. Slumber had taken the girl long ago, head propped up against his sternum whilst he remained unusually still. Movement only being seen throughout the thin mists lest he take in a calm breath of air only for it to be released to the frosty chill around them. Motions were taken to prop the wee lass closely towards and up he went, leather creaking in his steps back towards what they had temporarily deemed as 'home.' Home, a foreign word to him now. He laid curled up beside the girl that early morn, an old subconscious habit kicking in as he hovered alongside her. Many years ago, he lay strewn out beside his wife similarly, the whispers of his children just beyond the wall of their room, giggling and running throughout the house causing a ruckus for the servants. Attempts were made to quiet them but in the end it only made the two girls laugh louder, little feet pitter-pattering heavily against oaken floorboards. And whilst his children laughed and misbehaved, it was that time in the morning where he could focus upon the curled up sleeping form of his wife. The nearby fire crackled, low and unyielding as embers spit along the cave's floor. Rough hand pressed itself to the flat of the owlet's stomach, fingers scaling up along her freckled body until he stopped upon her breast. Large hand spread outwards, cupping at the ample mound as his fingertips pressed gently into the flesh, thumb pushing into the pert nipple. It was in the latest high rise of splitting firewood that the ranger's eyes snapped open to see that instead of his former wife’s breast he was feeling up… ..it was Donnally’s. Donnally. He had just been feeling up the lass. A small perk was felt in his loins and he reacted instantly by removing that hand of his from beneath her leathers. Internally, he was mortified but it was one of those rare instances where you could see the lines of embarrassment across his aging, scarred usually placid face. Dropping all contact with her, he scooted across the cave's floor in an attempt to look for his coat, leathers creaking when he finally took the chance to dress himself. Though, it was upon the girl waking up in her bubbly manner which had him quickly cut her down by saying that there were things that needed to be done {like not seeing his rising... ..problem in his pants, thank the woodlands that his leathers were thick enough to mask that.} He left her in a hurry but said he would be back soon. The morning shifted into the late afternoon and he was still not back. Poor girl had grown bored and hungry. Little did she know the ranger had set up traps further along the cave's dwelling to catch some actual *meat* rather than the salted jerky that they had been eating for the past few days since her reawakening into the world. All strung along different hooks upon his shoulder were birds, squirrel, and two small rabbits. Enough to get a good stew going, especially since he found some herbs and veggies along the way. He expected her to be there but upon returning to the path was quick in his footsteps towards the girl and was about to chide her when the rabbit she had been chasing {unknown to him} wiggled on out of the bush -- it was fat too, fat was good. Not even thinking that this creature had become the owlet's intended target for a food source {due to her lack of talons it made it impossible to capture the chubby thing} he noiselessly drew back his his bowstring and shot his arrow right through its head. If his quickened footsteps amongst the forest floor's greenery hadn't signified his presence, this now did. "...drop the berries, you'll get sick." his voice rumbled, now leaning forward to press the tip of his boot towards the crushed rabbit's head and retrieve his arrow, adding the small creature to the gathered stock of game he recently plucked from his traps. Seeing her again caused him to slightly avert his gaze... ..she didn't know what happened earlier that morning. {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ the owlet had been utterly deep below layers of slumber and dreams when the ranger had taken to intimate habits of his own past life. If anything of Leith’s own unconscious, wandering touches had seeped through into her sleeping psyche, it manifested in ways in her dreams that she might have only found soothing or exhilarating, but toward the dream atmosphere. Without realization that those sentiments had been instilled by outside influences to her slumber. By Leith’s rough hands easing tenderly and unconsciously along her skin. When the mortified ranger had suddenly drawn away, Donnally remained asleep, but drawn closer to consciousness by the change. His protection and warmth had been removed. She had only stirred, curling up into her limbs a little more, indication of unconsciously noticing the withdrawal of warmth. Though she still had covers and the low, crackling fire nearby. Not long after, though, she thought she woke naturally, and had hooted the ranger’s name. At present, where she had gamboled into the woodland just outside of the cave to chase that rabbit, bright berries reflected in her blue eyes. She knew nothing of Leith’s traps, and if she did, she lacked tools to accomplish anything with the caught game anyway. She wasn’t against trying to eat fresh, raw meat again, owlish memories depicted this as a perfect meal after all. Sustenance had conditioned her to envision a beak pulling red muscle from a fresh kill in a fond way, because it had meant survival while she was an owl. It was as simple as that, nothing macabre or ghoulish to it. Donnally had plucked a handful of the biggest berries from the bush, her stomach gurgling in anticipation for some sustenance. She hadn’t heard the experienced ranger return, not until the sound of an arrow WHOOSHED by not too far from her shoulder. The rabbit twitched dead, arrow shaft tall out of its head. Her blue eyes were wide, and she had become still. The sight of the rabbit dying hadn’t been the thing to startle her, it was the sudden arrow! Then, the ranger’s gruff, but quiet voice chided her to put aside the berries lest she become ill. As ever, the owlet took to Leith’s guidance completely, and her hand turned sideways, and the berries rolled away into the grass while the owlet donning the wolf pelts and maw over her mahogany hair turned her freckled face his way, apologies etched into her expression. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry, I was hungry, and you said not to leave the cave, but I was restless, and this rabbit teased me so I chased it, I didn’t mean to upset you, don’t be mad—“ she burbled a stream of quiet words, horrified at the possibility that she might have bothered the stoic ranger. Even if he never gave signs of real disapproval toward her. Though he had asked her to stay in the cave, and she had gone against her agreement to do that. She made herself a liar! But hadn’t intended to! Though, as he pulled the arrow from the rabbit’s head, she became curious at how the creature felt now to human hands, versus talons. She reached her good hand toward the felled rabbit, curling her fingers into the fur at its side. Her rounded, soft fingers lacked claws, so all the body did was slightly indent to her touch. “I’m not sharp anymore,” she observed aloud. Though, she gave a slanted grin up at the ranger for that, like she found humor in how useless she was now. He had been helping her to learn basic survival, though, and as the days went by, she was relearning what it was to be back in her natural, human form again. It helped to have the stoic ranger around for that process, too (aside from the fact that she probably would be dead if he’d left her while she was still so uselessly new to her humanity again). Her eyes followed his as they slid away, wondering what the ranger saw, but she found nothing but grass. She stood, picking up the rabbit corpse while she did, hoping to be of some small help to Leith. “What?” She hooted, sincerely curious what he’d seen that she could not. “Leith! I’m glad you’re back, teach me how to eat this with—“ she wriggled her rounded fingers from around the cusp of her sling to indicate her lack of natural tools. Too easily, she bumbled back close to his side, her shoulder melding against the leathers of his jerkin. Poor ranger, stuck with his stray cat who lacked a sense for personal space. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- The softness of the breast he once grasped still ran heavily in his mind. Barely any sounds left the lassie when he had done so, that ampleness slightly overflowing within the crevices of his fingers. It had been far too long since the grim ranger touched a woman – not even did he seek a whore’s touch, the wilds had been the only thing he remained attentive to this past decade or so since his beloved’s passing. Confused emotions stirred within him {more so within his trousers though, continually mortified at the idea that he had felt this innocent girl up.} Leith’s approach towards her was not quieted and he drew back the heavy weight of his bow, letting the arrow zip past as it hit its intended target {slight amusement filling him as the girl nearly jumped from the whizzing arrow’s path.} He wondered what was going on within the other’s mind now. For the grim ranger had left in quite the rush that early morning… ..if only to conceal his rising lower problem and hide away the light flush forming underneath his heavy hood. Rubbing those thoughts away like the blood he smudged from the tip of the offending arrow, which pierced the rabbit’s skull, he tucked it back into his quiver upon his shoulder. Weighted gaze fell upon the berry bush and the amount of brightly colored berries that the girl gathered whilst in his absence. Immediate she was to drop those gathered fruits, the round balls bouncing and going off into different directions amongst the verdant grounds. His brown eyes met with her cornflower blues, brows knitting together when the owlet came forth with a stream of stumbling apologies towards the elder man. He knew she did not know but the way she came at him with quiet words and a disquieted expression had him feeling… ..bad. “…don’t apologize for things you do not know…” After retrieving his arrow and cleaning it, he was about to extend his hand out towards the lump of dead fur when the little thing’s hand decided to reach out and poke at it. In her observation about not having a certain sharpness to her anymore, he couldn’t help but lightly grin towards the bubbly thing whose head canted in a way to make the wolf headdress upon her person daunting. His own eyes did wander away from her fully, trying their best to avert the memory of those breasts out of his mind… he felt that slight perk – never mind, it was downgraded when she brought up on how she wished for him to teach her how to eat. Shaking his head, he centered himself and a low grumble came from unused vocals, “…if anything..I should be sorry for leaving you alone for so long…” he started, a light ‘piff’ of breath leaving him when she came in on his personal space, melding closely into his side {though he shown no signs of irritation whilst she latched so closely to him, only placidity.} He was too used to it by now and never shown disapproval for her intrusive nature. “… ..I will teach you, yes…” mind now searching for ways to stop her questioning as to why he was looking off the way he was – gaze now falling upon the scattered berries upon the ground. “ – there’s a use for those berries.” He gently removed himself from her side and reached out to roll and eventually squish one within his hand. “These can be used for tipping one’s weapon… ..if made correctly.” Leith was not sure why he hadn’t thought of it before, possibly because her safety had been the one thing on his mind these days since he stumbled across the owlet turned human. Thoughts never seemed to be the same when your habitual world was turned upside down, uprooting all that you knew and stirring long forgotten senses. This is what Donnally did to the trained ranger -- little by little, she was unknowingly peeling back the layers of his restricted emotions and bringing forth someone who was thought to be long forgotten within the fires of his past. "... ..making stew." He said suddenly as she rejoined his side, toting the rabbit she had recently killed whilst he escorted them back towards the mouth of the cave, hauling what he had gathered that morning {along with a handful of berries in the other hand.} Preparations were set, hanging the caught animals one by one as he made efforts to skin them. Though, it was the rabbit he stopped on last, brawny body now turning towards the small owlet who was probably more than curious. Waving his dagger from side to side, he approached her, holding out the end... ..this time the handing of his personal dagger was in a less dire setting and he was going to teach her how to skin. "... you're going to learn.. your beak can't help you now." There was a slight tease in his voice but it quickly ebbed away. He continued to hold out the end to her, eyes looking over her form, "...will help in holding it down." His voice rumbled and cracked but as simplistic as his wording was, it held meaning and he wanted to help the owlet advance in her skill set. {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ color scattered across the grass as the berries bounced and rolled here and there, free from her hand. Some other little creatures with heartier stomachs than hers could find them later. Or, Leith’s rough hand would pass down to collect them, once he’d disentangled himself from her intrusive nearness at his side. Though, he hadn’t moved away with any signal to her that said he was impatient with her, so no concern welled in the owlet over it. His expression hadn’t been harsh on her either, even if his brows had knitted, it didn’t seem to her eyes in anger. Really, it felt more like a look to help dissipate her uncertainty that led her to her burble of apologies. So in that spirit, the scarred, grim ranger’s expression only softened her uncertainty and bolstered her cheery spirit. Even his statement, gruff and brief as it was, carried an undercurrent of kind consideration toward her so she had been made content. “Whooooo,” she hooted unobtrusively as he explained the berries usefulness in ways other than food. When he’d stood upright again, the owlet was right back at his side, all the more eager to be near as she’d been alone in the cave all day. He had successfully diverted her from her questions, as she assumed he had become thoughtful about the spill of round berries. The pair returned to that cave, with game, berries, and the odd but desirable company each provided to the other, being that they were such opposites in so many ways, but somehow, different in compatible ways. The owlet perched upon the dry dirt and stone of the cave floor beside the maintained fire, watching Leith go about his work, drinking in the processes he demonstrated. She wanted to remember everything, so her cornflower eyes were truly owlishly rounded upon the stoic ranger while he worked. she couldn’t remember ever having stew, but there were still nonetheless odd, misplaced good feelings toward the idea, suggesting she probably had consumed a hearty meal of it at least once in her jumbled and forgotten past. He had to do essentially everything for her, so when he offered for her to try now, her eagerness to be useful shone through an already cheerful attitude. he brought his dagger back to her, the one he had given just before the wolf (whose pelt was on her back and face skinned to lay atop her mahogany head as a headdress now) tried to kill her during the pack’s hunt upon them days ago. Her good hand reached up, small fingers extending that enthusiasm visibly. Everything he guided her through, she endeavored to follow through with as he guided. Effort and determination to skin this rabbit manifested on her freckled face where eyes were fixated and her lower lip angled outward while teeth clenched the lower right side of her mouth. She burbled a hooting laugh when he actually mildly teased her about lacking a beak, and chattered her teeth at him to show how ferociously useless they were now in this scenario, with squinted eyes while she chomped the air at him. She needed his help to hold the rabbit still, as she only had one good arm to work with. So, while the ranger’s brawny body hovered from behind her, strong arms in parallel to her small limbs, the owlet learned how to prepare a rabbit with human hands now, to replace the tools of the owl she once had only days ago. The small rise of her back was mirrored by the slouch of the ranger’s torso. “Teaching me to be an owl as a person,” she warbled quietly back after a while of highly focused effort toward how he was guiding her learning. “Will you teach me to use your bow, too?” She followed with, no idea that she probably couldn’t even draw the thing. she just didn’t want to continue to be useless to the ranger, and useless in general to herself. Maybe one day if he left her again for as long as he had, she might have enough small skills to make her own stew! Or find berries that wouldn’t kill them all. Or prepare arrows for them both with the berries that were better suited for tipping the projectiles with. “Will you teach me to hunt like you did today? Why were you gone so long? Does it take a lot of time to hunt as a human? I used to only need to open my eyes and widen my wings and—“ she swayed her head left to right within the confines of the ranger’s arms shadowing around her learning task. It was to imitate a swooping owl. “—then I’d have a mouse to take up onto a branch.” the fur peeled back from muscle and bone in a similar way to how she’d watched Leith prepare another animal before. But this time guided by her own good hand while Leith helped steady the carcass and assist whenever the blade seemed to get caught on something. It felt good to feel useful, and her cheer related to it emanated, even while faint traces of blood lay upon her fingers, and a pelt had mostly come loose from the rabbit with a surprising ease. Except around the feet and neck, but she expected the ranger to help her with those parts, as signaled by her turning around within the guiding shelter her provided over her as he helped, taught, and watched. Cornflower eyes rose up to his scarred face, question evident in her own nearby freckled countenance. though for once, she didn’t speak every little thing that flooded her mind, and only asked with that look. Was he teaching her some temperance, too? Probably. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- Like a flower which follows the full circling of the sun, the owlet followed her ‘sun’ {or to really describe the hooded ranger… ..more like some dark cloud which rained over your sunny day.} Never he did appear to be impatient in the slightest when he lightly pried her pawing hands from his leathers to retrieve the scattered berries within the grasses. His expression came to lighten when she hooted in that – winsome…yes, cute, wait…ah – she was endearing in certain way of hers that he had become accustomed to in the past few days. Leith never let his emotions bleed through but with this small creature, from time to time he did – even now he couldn’t prevent himself from returning a gentle grin towards the slanted one he received from her prior. Right back to his side she ventured and he did not ward off her approach, rather, he just grumbled in acceptance as they made their way back to the entrance of the cave. Internally, his mind was glad that he successfully diverted from her curiosity but he knew he couldn’t let those certain emotions take hold of him again. It was easy to see whenever the grim ranger did express himself outright; it was like finding a white bird amongst a flock of crows… ..just that obvious. After the pair returned to the cave, he started his work with what he had captured within his traps, easily peeling away the skin and letting the gathered flesh dry out in the sun before returning to the inner part of their impromptu home. His dagger ran easily into their hides. Cut here, cut there – eventually it all came away like peeling the petals off from a flower, it was just that easy {the owlet now learning firsthand on how such was done in making her wolf pelt whilst she slept.} Eventually, the organs belonging to these small creatures were removed. All of them were placed into small piles about Leith as he went about preparing their meal. The food would last them a few more days until the grim ranger would decide that it was time to move into civilization. He hoped that the sights and sounds of the world outside these woods would not overwhelm her, for the pace he reintroduced her nice was slow and steady… ..but mankind was anything but. Loud. Noisy. Pushy. Rude. Greedy. Things that he never wanted to introduce the owlet turned wolf pup towards but it was a reality that she would need to face nonetheless. For now, it was best to just enjoy the tranquility of the woodlands, his hand now extending to the little thing as he pressed the hilt of the dagger towards her palm’s center. There was much eagerness within her gait upon her approach and he offered a baring of his own teeth towards her when she strove to become this ‘vicious’ huffy thing, very light chuckles following afterwards. How were they to go about this? Awkwardly, he postured himself to the side of her – no, that didn’t work. Neither did angling himself in other ways and he found his defeat when he stepped in up behind her, his long shadow covering over the back of her smaller form. Readying himself behind her, his strong arms reached out to hold the rabbit in place and it was upon brushing up against the young thing’s backside that he was reminded once again of earlier that morning – ah…wait what? Breath struggled now. Her voice came as a light echo into his ear until he straightened himself and the stoic male attempted to center himself again, briefly aware of what she warbled. “… ..skills which will help you..” Leith said quietly but upon remembering her latest inquiry, he inhaled, lips becoming a thin line. “ – yes… ..though, my bow’s draw is too heavy, you’d hurt your arm again…” His heart felt heavy against his ribcage, adam’s apple moving as he gulped back his sanity. Her warmth, her presence, her scent. It took him back to more pleasant times; times where he freely laughed and smiled… ..such was no more though. He needed to step away for a moment but such would warrant even more questions. Urgh, damn this little thing. Instead, he retained his levelheaded demeanor and lightly grunted when a spew of questions came tumbling out from the girl’s lips. Chatty as ever, it seemed. Her cheerful energy causing the rabbit’s carcass to swing from side to side whilst her stony comrade attempted to find solace within the task at hand. “…yes.. ran into someone at the river.. …not long if you know the technique..” Each question was humored but with limited wording, his struggle continuing in the innocent girl’s presence as she shed away the remaining fur upon the hanging carcass {sparing the head and paws to her comrade}, blood touching not only her hands but the ranger’s as well. Leith floundered a moment or two within his thoughts until he was drawn back to what they were doing. Not exactly the most scenic for this pair but it was natural and he was teaching Donnally how to … … .. – cornflower blue eyes now leveled up to his scarred, rough exterior. Her small frame had turned around within his encased arms. How could he have not noticed the shifting of her body within his hold? The proximity of their bodies was once again close, just as it had been that early chilly morning. His hold upon the rabbit loosened and he wilted further over the owlet, seeing that there was an evident question upon her freckled face. “… ..” Silence enveloped the two of them, her gentle steady breathing heard by the sensitive ears of the male only caused his own heart to thunder within his chest. Lips pressed nearer to hers but he stopped himself and ended up grabbing the remaining skin on the rabbit’s body, harshly jerking at it as the moment became interrupted. He felt like he was a blabbing, fumbling teenager again. He was too old for this… ..too old for her. Donnally would not be interested in an older man, it was best to just keep his distance, as difficult as that was with her consistently clinging to him. “…fires are getting low.” his husky voice interjected, stepping away from the mahogany haired maiden {his legs were likely gelatin at this point but he did not show such, attending to the fires and cutting up veggies for the stew that he was wanting to prepare… ..hand slightly unsteady until he collected himself again.} Ever was the ranger an honorable man but how long could he keep himself from dipping too far? She melted away certain icy aspects, things he wished to shield again. How was it after a decade of not feeling anything that he was suddenly open to everything? Leith did not let his thoughts linger and he began to once again instruct the bubbly girl by telling her about the stew. Work was a distraction… ..yes, he needed to be distracted… instead he became abstracted because of her presence – how was that even possible?
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ whenever Leith gave a kindly expression, the owlet responded. She brightened and cooed. Or drew closer, even at unconscious levels drawn more proximal to the grim ranger. Why wouldn’t she? He helped her, protected, her taught her, was patient with her ignorance to the world whilst she adjusted from her feycursed befuddlement. He humored her, and even, despite his seeming detached stoic nature, he comforted the owlet, too. With her memories to her previous life so jarred and damaged by the fey curse that imprisoned her as that owl, she lacked the jaded biases against people that most collected over the years. There wasn’t a healthy amount of caution or leeriness, she trusted him utterly from the moment they met. There wasn’t prejudice to his outsider, grim demeanor, because all she associated with that was his quiet style of kindness toward her, and efficient experience in getting necessary tasks done. So in her way, she was a more honest mirror to his quality of character than the societies he felt repulsed by for their prejudiced or predisposed perspectives. She was in her way tabula rasa. The first impressions to her newly forming human memories were therefore good and encouraging by a grim ranger. He guided her hands through the lesson of dressing game so she could continue to survive by her own merits in the future. The rabbit’s fur peeled away into her hands, soft and mottled like her wings used to be. “Can I keep this?” She peeped up before she had turned. Really, the owlet wanted to try and make something of the fur for Leith, even though she remained pretty useless and uncertain of any skills she held in her muscle memory, even if her mental memories themselves were still jostled. Did she know how to sew before? Surely. What else had she been skilled at? Maybe someday she would know, or maybe not, and develop purely from a reborn perspective and experience. Her expectation for now was that most, if not all people would be welcoming and accepting in the way Leith was, but his unspoken reservations sheltered her from the harsh realities that she’d eventually have to relearn. “Ran into someone at the river? A friend?” She bubbled innocently, curious of other people, too. She only just now thought of it, was this a region he knew well? Lived her regularly? How far did he range within his lonely occupation? “Someday I hope to hunt well like you, like I used to!” Another chomp of her teeth through a crooked smile as a reminder of the sharp owl beak she used to have. though all questions fell aside, to be unanswered for now as the owlet turned, initially with that question in her expression on how to proceed with the rabbit, but his expression and body language communicated back to her, too. She was essentially reborn to her humanity, gathering back experiences and how to function. Though she wasn’t blind, though she did still in that silence that hung between them. Her brows lifted slowly above encouraging cornflower eyes, toward whatever the looming ranger was holding back. Their mouths angled close, and something seemed right about following through with contact---but then the ranger’s low, quiet and gruff voice murmured about the fire, and he moved away. she felt forlorn in that departure, and a small, dejected coo faintly sounded in her closed mouth while she watched him go tend to the orange embers. He set himself busy to preparing root vegetables for the stew he said he would cook for them, and the owlet found herself uncertain what to do. So, she fell into what felt natural to her cheery personality, and eventually moved from the place where she had stood alone for a while, and plopped near the fire, but on the opposite side of the fire from the ranger. She was trying to show a little bit of social learning to him, see? She gave him a little space, was that what he wanted? The owlet was poor at figuring these things out yet. She folded her good arm around her knees and nestled her chin on the top of her knees, watching Leith work, trying to remember how to do it all for the future. Firelight warmed in rising and falling light and thin shadows over her freckled face, and for once, she was actually quiet. Sometimes her freckled lips would part with the form of a question for the ranger, but then she’d close her mouth and try to keep quiet, though it made her restless. her toes shifted an curled in the dry dirt that that perpetual fire kept warm. Small fidgets. Covertly (but quite the opposite), she slid a little bit around the fire. Scoot. Pause, watch the ranger. Repeat. Though she only made it around a quarter of the fire, leaving a little space still between herself and the outsider preparing a meal for them. She slanted her cheek against one knee to watch him at a slight, owl angle. He never behaved in a rejecting sort of way toward her, but, quietly bewildered, even though he remained kind and attentive in his distant way, she felt an uninterpretable distance. Why? It was sad, maybe she misunderstood it? She had to relearn people, after all. It finally all weighed upon the owlet, so the next time she opened her mouth, she didn’t cut herself off. Face still laying to the side against her knee, she delicately pipped. “Leith? Did I do it wrong?” Skinning the rabbit, that was. That was one question. Another? “…..Leith?” Candid, cornflower eyes fixed to him without the bashfulness girls are taught in society, because if she had been taught that, it was lost to the curse’s befuddlement. she paused, another cue she’d taken from how Leith communicated with her, taking moments between words sometimes. She was sure he had seen through her in some way, and so she felt it better to confess through a question. “….I-I I’m sorry if I offended you. I thought….about trying kissing you, I don’t…. I don’t remember if I ever have been, you were close, but—“ she rambled, and lulled her face away toward the fire. “….as soon as I thought it you left!” it was obvious she was worried he had somehow realized the thought and drew away. “But! There, that’s over! I won’t think it again, okay?” she pipped up chipper, more cheerful than she felt (which was dejected and embarrassed, and trying to return to the vague sense of her “normal”). “How do I make the rabbit ready for the stew? I’ll think about helpful things, I’ll be helpful and useful soon, it’s hard with one good arm but I can do that!” She resolved, feeling better, led on by her sunny tone. As an owl, she ate just about every and any part of a kill, with a sharp beak and completely different digestive system. She learned some berries would now make her sick, maybe some parts of the rabbit would, too. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- The owlet’s brightened demeanor almost always caused Leith to become statuesque. She who radiated such fondness to him kindled forgotten emotions within the grim ranger. Her radiance was a breath of fresh air and it dusted away the chapters of his former life that he never sought to touch again. Without hesitance, she approached, fingers looping into the cords of his jerkin or to play with random strands of his scraggly dark hair… ..prompting senses within where he thought he wouldn’t ever receive from another. Parts of him wondered if it was the same for the owlet turned wolf pup, whose wide owllike eyes were almost always filled with inquisitiveness for the world around her like a scholar consuming pools of knowledge through text. Days prior, he resolved to see that this girl was protected underneath his wing and now, here she was – still here; an eager party who wished to learn about not only the environment around her but about him as well. Society often scorned the presence of the scarred ranger… ..the irony of it all was while they uttered venom about him, he still willingly laid his life wordlessly on the line for them. To see the safety of every person. No matter how odious their personalities were towards the hooded man who entered into their markets, gathering what he needed before disappearing off into the woodlands with his ilk – young men he had spent the last decade training. He wanted the little thing’s experience in her newly found form to be kind and to be filled with warmth… ..but the skilled bowman knew that the day to approach one of the nearby villages was fast approaching. Guidance was given throughout the lesson of skinning the rabbit, his gloved fingers pointing to the areas that were easy to cut into and peel away the fur. Yet, as the scenario unfolded further, he became all too aware of her closeness and he mentally slapped at himself for thinking of this young, sprightly thing beyond what he had thought of her days prior. It was alarming to Leith. In such a short amount of time, she chipped away at his stony exterior, and found a character that she willingly attached herself to. If the little thing did not recover her memories, then he would make new ones with her and continually protect her without even thinking of compensation for it… ..her presence was enough for him. Looping in and out of his thoughts, he briefly parted from them, and tipped his head to look down at the back of that mahogany head as the owlet peeped her question. “… ..I will dry it for you.” He answered, eyes focused to the back of her form as she swung from side to side with the rabbit’s carcass, peeling away the ends as he had previously instructed with surprisingly good efficiency. A light grunt of approval came from him and yet whilst praise was given, he saw how near they were {his heart continuously beating hard against his ribcage, even as he answered her latest question.} “…a random traveler.. her name is Callie. Never met her.” It was brief answer that held truth but her bubbling innocence made him feel protective even more of her, “ – don’t trust so easily on the road.” He said quietly, lightly tugging on the skin of the rabbit to continue their lesson. It was there, in that moment, as Donnally’s ebullient personality shown through, that he paused. “… .. … ..” Used to? What did she mean by used to? Were her memories recovering? Whatever remaining question she held for the ranger they were halted immediately in their mouths hovering as close as they did now. That silence, save for the crackling fire, and the occasional hoot of an owl in the distance went on for some time until he murmured that the fires needed tending to. Near as he had been, she had not wandered away… ..possibly because she had been curious, yes? Whiskers lightly tickled the side of her mouth in his withdrawl and he crouched over towards the fire, sparkling life into it once more. Repeatedly, the elder man told himself that she was not interested in and that her naïve nature right now naturally made her curious and invade in on his personal space constantly. All these things were thought to protect himself, to build up the chiseled layers again and to not allow himself to be opened as he had with his first wife. It still filled him with heartache but as he claimed the other night, her death and his children’s had been a long time ago; his mind accepted that, just… ..his heart didn’t. That dejected faint coo caused his shoulders to stiffen but he did not counsel her as he had done prior, instead his energies went into chopping away at the veggies to prepare the stew. The nearby flames crackled and hissed as the hanging pot was placed above the fire, its weight swinging from side to side like a pendulum with each little piece of meat and veggie that was added in. He half-expected for the little thing to be up into his side by now but she did not. There was a lingering emptiness beside him because of it but he did not say anything outright about it; rough, scarred face remained abstruse, the shadows of the nearby fire angling his narrow face in different perspectives. Utility knife cut up the that last piece of meat but he still did not gaze across the roaring flames to hone in on the wide-eyed owlet. Space was anything but what he needed right now. Once again, he plucked away at the peels of a nearby herb he had plucked from the forest, narrowing it down into digestible pieces for the broth. When those dark piercing eyes did manage to look within his peripheral towards the huddled up little thing… ..his heart ached for creating such dejection in her. Though, eventually the gap between them began to be filled and he saw her evening the space between them {something he felt himself warming up to but still no words.} Eyes caught the owlet turned wolf pup attempting to speak and a part of him wished to prod at her, to see what it was she wanted to say… ..he just left it alone. After he finished off another round of herbs for the bubbling, mini cauldron, he canted his head towards her direction. His stomach sank when it was her apologies which she delicately touched upon with her soft, trembling voice. In her explanation it was she whom she pinned the blame upon and he and he sat there stupefied for the moment… ..she wanted to kiss him? What? An old man like him? She who could have dozens of men lined up for her affections right and out of all the people… .. she chose him. No, no, she was just curious, right? His negative mind tried to seek some sort of reasoning for her curiosity – perhaps she was confused? … .. … ..no? Leith’s anxieties were now quelled and he pulled his gaze away from the roaring fires to focus in on Donnally. Suddenly, a light clang sounded, it reverberated around the cave as the grim ranger dropped his current cooking utensils, leather creaking in his ascension from the grounds. Low grumbles of disapproval came from the elder’s vocals and his travel worn boots led him towards her side, his shadow enhanced by the nearby fires as it stretched out over the owlet’s form. “…it’s not over.” Words were said in a cryptic manner; what did he mean? Was he angry with her? Was he going to do something to her that was unpleasant? Up until now, he had been nothing but kind to her… ..what was going to happen? Crouching lowly next to her, he placed his gloveless fingertips towards the cusp of the freckled lass’s chin and looked into her wide, cornflower blues, directing her chin upwards into his direction. “… ..you’re already helpful enough..” Not allowing her to say anything further, he pressed his extremities towards the other’s soft lips in an attempt to hush her, and as they eventually fell away he wilted in over the small owlet. His whiskered mouth came to press in a tender filled kiss to her lips, thumb lightly brushing along her chin before he transitioned his rough palm to her cheek. The cauldron was now slightly bubbling over but as it hissed and spewed steam, the ranger’s meld against the girl’s lips only pressed firmer. It had been a brazen move on his part; he took this risk knowing that neither would see each other in the same light as they had been in the last few days. Would she reject him or show acceptance? It had been far too long since the elder ranger even allowed himself to be spirited lad he once was... {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ the mahogany haired girl had spoken her concern and curiosity to the weathered ranger. Fresh into the world again, she was honest in the thoughts and feelings she verbalized, or relayed in her body language. She had lost any guile, if it existed in her before the fey curse at least. She’d scooted a few slides closer, but hadn’t closed the distance to the ranger as she normally would, trying to show she was learning, but she had evidently been off on this count. She thought that, while he was still patient and kind toward her, he wanted a little more space than she ever afforded him, which was virtually no space since the moment he’d found her. Blue glances flickered toward him while he continued to prepare their meal, back and forth, curious to see if in the next moment maybe his demeanor would show signs of reaction to her at all. Meanwhile, the face of the wolf that had been skinned and turned into headdress and cloak peered vacantly and carelessly upward at the roof of the cave, a stark contrast to how she was fretting in her small ways, fidgeting her toes in the dirt and glancing again toward the steadfastly stoic ranger still distantly going through the motions of meal preparation. Then, low grumbles of what sounded like discontentment rumbled in his throat, and her owlish, blue eyes rounded upon him. Ohhh, was he now upset with her candid confession to him? She had given it to lighten the atmosphere and her quiet little burden, and tried to bridge to something else! “….it’s not…?” she trilled with a gulp, her chin sinking a little lower, though her eyes remained up upon the ranger’s scarred and weathered face. The elements he existed in creased lines and browned his skin, creating an older texture to him. While the owlet was smooth and new again, young and freckled, but fair, without much mark from the sun or atmosphere. She’d been an owl! the mahogany haired girl startled visibly when the cutlery the ranger had been utilizing clanged, dropping from his grasp, either from annoyance or being forgotten for some other thing taking his attention. Or both. She hoped it wasn’t the first, but she was nervous. She could have done something completely wrong without knowing it, as she was still learning how to really exist as a human again. she was also still learning to read the nuances that only barely surfaced about the stoic ranger, and right now, he was impossible for her to interpret, which added to her sudden sense of tension, noted by the deeper curl her toes burrowed downward into the fire warmed dirt. As he crouched, she lifted a sheepish look upon him, with her slanted smile angling an apology and welcome at the same time. the ranger’s hand slowly started to move toward her face then, steady as it ever seemed to be. Rough fingers cupped her chin, making her face seem all the smaller by comparison to his broad, weathered hand framing it. He might even feel her gulp against his digits. He murmured that she was already helpful? Well she did try, but the owlet didn’t really find evidence for how yet. her mouth faltered with signs of her usual deluge of questions and naïve observations, though the ranger’s rough fingertips slid up her chin and alighted against her lips, pressing silence over her mouth in a way parallel to a time when he’d clasped his palm over her mouth. Though that previous time had been done to help protect them in dangerous times. when she had been too gabby and predators lurked. Here, it felt more like a gentle, wordless request that she be still. That there wasn’t a necessity to question and fret. Cornflower eyes bounced around his scarred face and long features. He presented in a thoughtful, fond manner, and it lured the owlet nearer, as she had often been inclined. Small digits crawled against his leather jerkin, finding small nooks and niches to lightly latch to. This was customary for her at this point when she was in a cheery place, which was often. This wasn’t all, though, the ranger hadn’t just abandoned his meal preparation to show that he hadn’t been expressing a wish for space by closing nearer. No, the brawny ranger was now leaning forward, looming down over the small owlet, and… their mouths met. His whiskers brushed against her skin, and he tenderly eased against her freckled lips. The owlet had no recollection prior to the fey curse that trapped her within the owl’s feathers, and so to her memory, this was the first and only kiss she had memory of. His gentle, rough hands were careful and warm around her face, giving her slight guidance but more significantly, the message of an affection toward her, and assurance that he hadn’t wished for space from the owlet, but the opposite. His lips led hers, so that the girl’s mouth tentatively mimicked his. Her other arm was still in the sling, so all she had to hold steadfast to the ranger with was her one, with fingers already burrowing how they could into his leathers for anchorage. An emotional sort, because she was perfectly safe and still on solid land, in a cave no less. Where no elements save for the ones they created could influence their well-beings. The sound of the water hissing steam into the air only made her eyelids open, she hadn’t realized when they had closed. Though the ranger only pressed that slow, careful kiss a little morefirmly to her mouth at this, and lured her utterly back into the experience. Steam and stew and anything else falling away. Her protector, teacher, hunter, and companion was sheltering around her and tenderly granting her this simple, yet profound (to the reborn human who found nearly everything novel again) affection. A euphoric and dazed note swelled quietlyand warmed in her throat, to muffle against the ranger’s mouth. Donnally, the girl who had been cursed into the owl’s form for so long, was walking candor, an honest mirror to what she was exposed to without guile or lie, because she hadn’t learned these things yet. So when it was that her body language and very atmosphere expanded with delighted enchantment, the ranger, no matter what he thought he saw in and of himself, could not hide from the reality that the owlet only now expressed affectionate admiration, and a heightened wish to remain as close as the grim outsider would grant the cheery creature to remain to him. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- The lingering distance between them was more than observed – his eyes making brief connections with hers before letting them than wander back to his distraction… .. no, ‘work.’ She was trying, he knew that. It just – somehow felt lonely to him, as if he had become dependent upon her bubbly warm to buoy him, to remind him that there was a richness to the world around him open if only he allowed the little owlet in. There was no comfort to be taken in any of this, her fidgeting causing him to become unsettled {internally wishing to amend himself, for he did not take comfort in pushing the spirited, freckled girl away.} In that defining moment, she spoke her frankness towards the archer and he now took it upon himself to bestow that same straightforwardness. A simple shake of the head was his answer when the owlet’s trilling voice came up with her inquiry, followed by that visible gulp. They studied each other for a few moments, letting the weight of the atmosphere sink in around them before Leith decided that enough was enough, dropping his cutlery to the ground haphazardly. All prior thoughts disseminated and what was left were two beings simply facing each other; eye to eye. Worn, weathered leathers creaked in his nearness to the young lassie, heart pounding harder against his ribcage by each inch he approached her. Leith simply stared at this magnificent little thing, whose mahogany hair blazed up in vibrant colors due to the nearby fire – creamy skin covered by multiple freckles which bunched upon her countenance when she tipped her head to level that cornflower gaze with his dark eyes. Silly owl, his mulling mind echoed, now pushing in nearer towards her. Dare he do it? Her anxieties, as well as his were coming into play now, his breaths heavier than usual whilst she dug her little toes into the dirtied floors of the cave. Actions towards her were no doubt seen as obfuscated but he only wished to mollify her disquieted emotions. In this one single instance; he felt he was risking everything… ..when in actuality, the ranger was. If rejections were to come, he’d move on – then again, she had placed herself into this position with him, finding fault in herself for wanting to commit such acts against him. Irony played truly for these two individuals for it was his lips which pined to connect with the young girl’s earlier. Though, it had been his reasoning of older age which prevented him from his advancements... ..until now. There were many men within her age range and yet… ..she chose the old, scarred ranger above all else? To be fair – the owlet hadn’t been given the chance to look upon another man since her reawakening, the bowman’s countenance being the only thing she was exposed to during her time awake. He wanted to search for so many reasons as to why this girl was suddenly captivated by him but he no longer fought against himself. His gestures to quiet her commenced, fingers running lightly along the lining of lips {before he had done so to keep her quiet from danger… ..but was this not also a dangerous path they were about to tread down?} Eyelids half-way closed, dark eyes still centered upon her face as she pressed closer – half of him expected her to push him away {that didn’t even happen.} She smelled of the damp earth and campfire in her close proximity, this causing Leith’s skin to become pebbled all over as he hovered towards the youth, her gracile fingers looping themselves into his corded jerkin whilst in his vicinity {a cute habit that the ranger somehow become fond of…} Their lips finally met in osculation, his head bobbing gently into her direction to guide her along in this ‘new lesson’ for the evening, pressing those lips against hers harder as the seconds passed by. His round of actions were disorderly, letting the pot boil over {which was something he didn't do}, mouth refusing to lose its connection with the fondness the owlet naturally provided him throughout the duration of their link. Unhurried, he raised his opposite rough hand to place at the back of her neck, fingerless gloves splaying into her thick mahogany hair whilst he portrayed his affections to the young owlet. Body felt the burrowing of that small hand into his leathers, the bowman’s mouth now coaxing her attention from the hissing stew which rumbled from becoming overly heated. Their only focus was on each other this moment, lips melded, bodies pressed up against one another. There was a certain sweetness to the other’s lips that he hadn’t tasted before, his breath becoming slightly errant as they exchanged kisses. Who would have thought that the unsociable, stony faced ranger would hold such mounting feelings within him ready to spill at a moment’s notice? He wanted to protect this girl, he wanted to teach her, he wanted to shelter her… ..she was not a possession, she was a young woman who was only now starting to blossom into her own – this night was proof of that. His rough hand moved from her face towards her lower body, shifting from his crouch to fully sitting upon the ground and luring her smaller body to straddle his lap. Shivers continued to weave throughout his body, his cloak lightly being tugged upon from his shoulders to drape up over the two of them, hiding them even from the stars which wished to look upon the kissing companions through the crevices of the large cave. Lifting his booted foot, he somehow maneuvered the owlet upon his body whilst kicking the steaming, small cauldron over, drawing his attentions instead to the little thing upon his lap. Internally, he fought with himself, his cravings becoming the destruction of him as he felt a slight bulge. Letting out a shuddered sigh against her lips, he gave one buck against her lower area and then stilled himself... ..trembling now. "...not yet.." his grumbling, husky voice spoke, pressing his forehead against the crook of the owlet's graceful neck. Lips parted themselves from her mouth, brown eyes catching the nearby fire's radiance as the flecks of hazel within his eyes told of his obvious desire but the elder man within him restrained the impetuous youth who wanted out. She didn't know if she was going to be upset with him He didn't know if she was going to be upset with him or not but as the situation enfolded, he still kept her near nonetheless -- that is, if she allowed him to. In his younger days, he would taken her and shown her those long forgotten passions but the more experienced half of him combated against his reckless self asking for order. He respected her and he wanted to show that aspect of himself, despite the raging adrenaline of hormones and the blue balls that would come of it after the rejection of the situation; like right now {his youthful self hated him for it.} "... ..I ... ...have a fondness for an owl.." He said suddenly, looking into Donnally's eyes as they regained their breaths from their previous tumble, rough hand twirling about her strands of mahogany hair. The elder ranger now wondered if she was going to be upset with him... {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ beyond the cave, the wilderness existed as it had every prior night whilst the owlet had returned to her natural humanity. Crickets and toads chirruped their various songs, deer strode in the darkness to find their beds ere wolves could hunt them, tree branches swayed in the gentle idleness of passing errant zephyrs, and stars winked in the dark overhead expanse. yet, within that cave where the ranger and the owlet sheltered, small adjustments had been made to how they experienced that world. Small, tentative, yet impactful gestures of affection. How was one to describe their first kiss in memory? One not committed sloppily in early youth, to childish giggles and awkward secrets, but by the tentative owlet and the matured ranger who had more conscious governance over his actions than some over excitable boy might. In this, he was ardent yet reserved, aware of more than just the present or himself as a selfish boy in ignorant youth might instead focus on only. Leith’s reservations weren’t entirely processed by the youthful Donnally either, though, even though he was ensuring that she knew that she was cared for in an utmost manner. That something more long-term was being preserved from his care and intentional limitations. The owlet was drawn into the grim ranger’s lap to nest, sheltered by his brawny, weathered form. She in her wolf pelts and fresh leather attire, while the ranger donned windswept and battered ranging leathers, coat, and cloak upon that, too. the huntsman gingerly guarded the small owlet, while allowing a manageable amount of his previously reserved affection to warm upon the girl’s freckled lips. There were no frantic hands tearing away clothes or mindless rutting pursued; desire existed between them, no doubt, yet this was truly something of a sincere and innocent kiss pressed from reserved elder ranger’s mouth to that of the reborn human girl who’d recently escaped her owl-formed prison. Perhaps it was true that if the owlet laid her cornflower eyes upon other men, she might have flown to some other in impulsive, youthful haste, but fate granted her the benefit of having been found by Leith in that wilderness, a man who had proven a depth of character and merit that would be difficult for any imprudent lad to ever hope to surpass. So indeed, although Donnally’s fate had been negatively marred by the fey curse, there was some balance to it in her return to humanity under Leith’s care. He guided, and the learning owlet followed. The ranger swathed her back with the reach of his cloak, which now contained the both of them. she was at peace and exhilarated at the same time for this intimate closeness to the ranger, where she often wriggled or forced her way to cleave close to him as it was before – how much more now would the owlet seek to be near to the grim ranger? Such the unlikely pair: naïve in her rebirth and youth, and weathered and hardened good soul in the older ranger. Yet, spirit and heart had been quietly stitching these two together over the time they had together. While the ranger had a stronger willpower with his age, the youthful owlet experienced the surge of hedonistic wishes, especially so as Leith drew the girl into his lap, making certain virile yearnings more obvious to her senses. She warbled ardent notes within her deepened exhalations and intakes of breath, steam and stew hissed and split while a cauldron clattered and rolled in the background, only briefly startling the owlet to cling with alarm instead of gentle fondness as she had prior, wide blue eyes lured away again by the clatter that caught her unawares. Though, her attention was drawn back by the ranger’s guidance, which she keenly complied with. Their mouths conjoined again, devoted and tender, but it did not last. The gruff ranger withdrew from the owlet’s freckled lips, and was followed by confused, cornflower eyes beneath dolefully angling brows. The grim ranger grumbled ‘not yet’ in a voice that sounded difficult to muster while he idled his forehead into the curve of her small neck. The memory of the attentive ranger’s kiss remained upon her lips, which kept her from speaking a moment while her eyes hazily stared off at the back wall of the cave, though her focus was elsewhere. “I—wha—wh—“ she quietly sputtered small, incomplete sounds that were the mere start of questions that she never finished. But he didn’t let her thoughts flounder or her emotions drift away from his reach. though, that it was Leith actively enfolding his arms around the owlet to keep her near, instead of merely standing statuesque while she frolicked and clung to him, did mollify her confusion a great deal. Her owlish, blue eyes drank in his demeanor and long, scarred features while he held the petite thing close to him. Silence laying between them for a time, as it had many times before, but there was something new in it now, too. He spoke of his affection for her, and her chest rose and fell with her increased heartrate for it, not only tangible to the touch for their proximity, but visible, too. She burbled a happy laugh through her slanted smile, and nuzzled her face downward to find his cheek and lift it from where his face lay bent toward her neckline. naïve as it could be said, she was won to Leith that night, even if she had so much more to learn about the world and herself, an confusions aplenty to sort and clarify. Like…. “….then wh…why?....” she pipped up. The young thing’s fingers stretched and curled into his leathers again, burrowing into new crevices of leather. It was as candid a question as any, with sincere ignorance to the purpose he was after in retreating a little from their interaction. If he were less honorable, it would have been all too easy for him to claim the owlet who already adored and admired him so well. She had more to learn of the world, of course. Suddenly concerned, her expression turned panicky and somber. “Leith…!” she hooted his name in a way she often did, but with more hush, as if too much volume might disturb the answers she sought to press from the stoic wanderer. “….but another time?” so she was hopeful for a future of a sort between them, was she? How could it be any more evident than in those murmured words and her expectant, yet nervous demeanor? Though her mind was upon the kiss, and his thoughtful hands. She was still yet a naïve thing. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- His actions, despite their slightly reserved state, shown their affection towards the girl, his seasoned experience guiding her along in her ‘inexperience.’ Both were unsure what happened prior to her feycursed existence but such did not stop the older, rugged archer from melding his lips so affectionately against hers. Despite his conscious management over his limbs, there were still many parts of the bowman which pined to act out of line against her. Years of being a ranger brought on certain restraints to your personality and when faced with the wilds, coupled with the woodlands – you couldn’t let your emotions rule you {even if a certain sylvan youth beckoned you to step further over the lines of intimacy.} He wanted more than anything to slip in between her luscious thighs, to feel the warmth she radiated… ..and yet it was his years of experience and advanced age which tugged him out of his euphoric state. Relieving himself was going to be easy later – yet just the thought he missed this opportunity had the younger ranger within cursing at him repeatedly. Were there going to be other times? His mind was reeling in suspense. Body pulsing in its urgent, yearning state to be connected with the younger girl. The trained male suddenly quelled the temptations he was currently battling against when pressed up against the sprightly, freckled lassie whom he pulled up onto his lap to straddle {another part of him regretting that decision for..to his mortification… ..she more than likely felt it against her inner thighs as she was pressed up so close against the -male’s leathers.} Light breaths exhaled from his mouth, rough hands shaking lightly from the restraint he was putting himself through when faced up against this certain scenario. There were probably many things she did not understand about this situation… ..but the one thing he wished to convey to her was to let the owlet know he really did care and that not all first advancements would lead *that* area with him {as much as she shown him wanton desire with... ..frustrated heavy breaths…focus, Leith.} Shifting underneath the cloaked wolven girl, he attempted to ease his troubles within his pants by putting some distance between them; hormones slightly calming themselves despite what had only minutes’ prior between these two souls. They could have been as reckless and become wild as the animals of the forest but here they were… ..restrained…somewhat.. {at least he was… maybe.} Here, the fates had aligned for this owl turned girl to fall, figuratively, into his lap where he provided her protection, shelter, and guidance – somehow despite all of that he felt himself being lured in by the female’s bubbly demeanor, bringing his inner mind to simpler times within his life where he thought it not possible to feel alive again. As the days went on, little by little, they helped each other in unknowing ways… ..for her; she was learning the ways of the world by Leith’s guidance and for him; he was learning to understand his stony emotions again with Donnally’s help. They provided stability with one another wordlessly and throughout the past few days… ..the ranger hadn’t figured out until now how much he was affected by this little thing straddled upon his lap. Was this the reason that the woodlands of this realm decided to drop this ill-fated girl into his wake – because it knew his true inner depths of loneliness throughout the years of weathered travel? Whatever the cause it was, she was here now, and in her slender, lithe frame fit into the cloak he swathed upon her thin shoulders to bridge the gap between them, creating further warm in their intimate closeness. Though, in his defense, he knew he did not make the situation any better by pulling her up onto his lap, lightly bucking upwards whilst her virile yearnings took over her body. Brief attention being given to the upturned cauldron as some of the juices of the stew spilt out onto the ground – such glances were brief to the clattering noise as their lips once again met again – shivers rippling further throughout Leith’s body. Light groans of irritation left his lips at having to part from her but he knew this decision was the best in the long run, wanting to show her how much he truly cherished the young girl. And into the blissful confusion, he spoke with her, his husky voice grumbling ‘not yet’ whilst his body said ‘show her how a real man handles a young woman’ – absolutely infuriating to control but he governed it with a sound mind nonetheless. Their hazed glances met, the grim bowman coming to understand her befuddlement over the intoxicating situation and how he had just abruptly stopped their advances upon one another. Brawny arms held then to her waistline, the whiskers of his beard tickling along the crook of her neck until he canted his head upwards for their eyes to meet. Fingers did continue their twirling through the owlet’s mahogany hair, free hand placed at the curvature of her slender back, rough extremities mapping along areas he hadn’t quite become acquainted with in touch yet {in sight he had… ..the older man saw her running around naked more than once since her reawakening into this unknown realm.} Now it was silence which touched upon the two of them, breaths being gathered until he refocused his inner thoughts to relay how he felt. The elder ranger wasn’t sure if he was even doing this right – the only woman he had confessed within his whole had been… his wife. He would *never* make any sort of comparison to Donnally with his past but there was a certain warm energy she radiated that took him to a better place of existence. It was scary, it was nerve-racking but he somehow managed to do it with a clear mind, despite the grumbling of his voice… He doted openly upon her, speaking of his affections towards the sylvan girl as if he were a younger lad, his words pushing the pair into a weighted place of thoughts as a light smile followed him afterwards when she burbled happily at the ranger. Though as he averred his feelings outright to the youthful little thing, his scarred features furrowed slightly in the sincere ignorance she shown upon his declaration of feelings and shown wonder as to why he wasn’t acting upon them openly. It was natural for her to ask and she had every right to inquire. A light breath was taken and as he sought to find the proper words, she looked suddenly concerned and turned panicky just as easily as an autumn leaf fell by the coaxing fall winds. After her hoot of anxiety, he felt his own inner embarrassment come tumbling out, cheeks tinged with light red as he tried to decipher her latest words towards him. Did she mean… ..have intercourse another time or… .. Bringing his hand upwards over his rough countenance, fingerless gloves attempted to shield away his embarrassment, grumbling voice starting up again to speak, piercing dark eyes looking through the slits of his fingers to center his gaze upon the ebullient owlet. “… .. ... .." Slowly, he let that hand of his fall and he tipped his head towards her direction. Pushing in towards her, he let his lips lightly brush against hers once again. "...you won't know when they will come..but if you ask... ..I will provide.." It was the best he could do, simplicity at its finest; his internal thoughts going all which ways, her touch teetering the question of his sanity once again. Running his thumb along the side of the other's cheek, Leith leaned in towards her, husky voice coming to surface again, "..or maybe I'll ask from you... ..but..." he took a breath, eyelids slanting, "...I do not act upon my feelings because it is my feelings which wish to grow with you.. ...to respect you.. to cherish you... ..so when the time comes.. we'll know.." His unused voice cracked, husky vocals portraying his inner thoughts to the best of his ability, holding the owlet turned wolf pup closer towards him as the night rolled by. {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ the owlet had been perched into Leith’s lap while he affectionately and ardently pressed their first kiss against her mouth. His lips guided hers, teaching her, while she learned and began to guide her own movements against him, too. There was still tentative curiosity in her motions, but most certainly an eagerness despite it. There was no lie in her body language, she hadn’t learnt guile since her rebirth into humanity. Leith could know that the owlet was sincerely drawn to him. Despite their age difference, and depth of life experiences (where hers was reset and just beginning again, even though she was in a youthful adult body). Despite his perception on their appearances, hers sylvan, soft youth and his rugged, wilderness-weathered age and scars…. The owlet was holding fast to the older man, angling her torso toward his jerkin, the fingers to her good hand crawling and clinging to his leathers, and devoted to their connection through those kisses. He’d straddled the small thing to himself, so her knees were widened around either side of his waist, and….. she was certainly aware of the rising desire he felt toward her….. she felt it physically there against her inner thigh. He’d know, too, because with a pulse of desire on his part, the owlet warbled a needy note on her breath against his mouth. How close they were to truly rutting like any wild beasts in that woodland, the owlet clearly open and desirous to the older ranger pushing into her (even if she never truly had been with someone intimately, memory or not, whenever the time came, he’d feel that reality himself). Though, Leith restrained himself, a testament to willpower given their situation. There was no society to judge them, no possible intruders or figures to bumble in and interrupt them. No one would know but them, but that was what mattered most to the experienced ranger, and so he groaned and slid his hips backward this time, rather than bucking upward as he had earlier (which had wildly affected the girl in his lap). Every touch for her was invigoratingly novel, because she had no memory of ever prior being kissed, caressed, held, or loved. She wasn’t perpetually dejected over all of those losses in time, she’d cried once with him over it when he shared his own doleful past. It just meant that as he touched her now, she wasn’t callous to any of it. Quite the opposite, and her body language was candid in reply, maybe even more so than she realized to his older eyes. NONE of that could make his will to restrain himself any easier, and yet, he managed. Tests of strength of will and character existed in times like this, where no one was watching, with no one to impress socially. Just one soul and the one they were attached to – and he desired more than just her body in that moment, but to build with her emotionally, and bond with her in other intangible ways, so she could learn that there was more to tender affections than leading straight into physicality. She would appreciate that more later, when she was less new to the world again. For now, her cornflower eyes were rounded and confused, and her body ached in ways she didn’t entirely (consciously) recognize or enjoy whilst being cut off. The mahogany-haired owlet leaned closer when he drew distance, her neck bending slightly to seek out another kiss, but he lay his face into the cleft of her neck, and she mewled desirous bewilderment. The poor ranger was tested heavily that night. The flush in the ranger’s long face only goaded the poor owlet on, too. She lacked memories, but she didn’t lack her humanity now, inexperienced as she was. She could feel and see his body, hear his groans and quickened breaths. She wasn’t ignorant to the way their bodies ached to connect further, it dizzied her and tightened her stomach in ways she was unfamiliar with. He leaned up again, though, giving her some reprieved from her bewildering aches when he brushed a whiskered kiss against her eager, freckled mouth again. When he drew his mouth away, her lips curled inward, where her tongue traced where his lips had just pressed, a pained form remaining around her blue eyes, but also willingness to take his guidance, as ever. He spoke in a husky, difficult manner, and she was utterly attentive to the grim ranger to whom she clutched with her good arm, and by her slender thighs which remained across his legs – no longer so snug around his hips since he slid her back a little. So he explained that to relay that he cared for her, and cherished her, he had to keep himself separated from her in that more intimate way…. in her rebirth to humanity, this just didn’t sound logical, and she whimpered around his words, but didn’t protest. It was something she needed to relearn, she decided miserably. Though he suggested some time in the future, they would just know, know that it was alright to explore each other further. Her face wilted with eyes closed over dolefully slanted eyebrows. “…okay…!” she managed to squeak out hoarsely through a faltering, forced smile. The owlet carefully peeled away from Leith, not suddenly or angrily, but out of basic need. It was too hard to remain in his lap and let her yearnings go. She was a reborn young girl, filled with ardor and candidly, a lust for the ranger now that the kiss had tumbled into introducing that to her body. It was horrible feeling like she would be better off curled off to the side on her own rather than up close to the grim traveler, but she didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t angry at him, and that much was evident around her befuddled, lamenting haze, even though she kept trying to maintain small, freckled smiles to say everything was okay – there was always irony in those sorts of smiles. “I… I’m going to … maybe lay down over here, I am kind of ah… kind of warm? I …. Maybe yes here.” She disentangled herself from Leith slowly and without force, and if he didn’t reach for her, she would crawl along the dirt of the cave floor, little wolf tail hanging over her backside from the garb he construed for her, and plop gracelessly to her side with a huff of dust around her outline where she landed haphazardly. }-
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leith
New Member
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Post by leith on Mar 5, 2017 18:45:49 GMT -8
We're swimming amongst stars, you and I {part 2 of 2} -
Ḷeḭtḧ : All sounds around the entwined pair evaporated, minds too heavy for coherency. The once amity between these two unfolded into something neither of them expected. Lips connected, hands roamed, voices echoed their clearly plain desires but it was the toughened, elder male who did his best to transition into clarity – this outline of their coupling only making their decision to break apart harder. Leathers creaked and clothes ruffled. Restrictions thwarted further advancement; Leith’s sensitive hearing picked up on the maiden’s clear hormonal distress whilst their connection heightened. Actions reviving forgotten intimate paths for both, mouths seeking out what was once thought to be lost within their existence. He was conscious of her cravings but did not help in releasing them as he only complicated the situation instead of facilitating it like he ought to of. The ranger’s youthful self-pushed aside rational impressions within his mind and only inclined him to fall into the pit of his emotion for the sylvan girl straddled so closely to him… .. – speaking of that, with the movement of her torso pushing in towards his lower half, he let out an unexpected low groan throughout their shared kisses. Down her lithe body pressed and the owlet shown an unexpected side to her keeper – her needy notes of pleasure {these euphonious sounds only triggering his length to pulse harder within his pants… ..it needed to be stopped..} So close they were to ravaging one another, heading full on into desire but it was the seasoned wandered who pulled himself from the clasp of reckless impulse. Lips did continue to guide the little thing along though, his rough hand angling her head in ways to bob along with his, reintroducing possibly long forgotten sensations to her. -And what willpower he possessed; such evidenced now as he slowed the kiss between them, pulling back with an exasperated groan. Young rangers underneath their master did not doubt his will to subdue any personal emotions but when they would find out that he held himself back against an eager *younger* maiden they were going to give him continuous shit about it {hopefully, none of them found out… ..woodlands be with him.} Extremities explored, pushing themselves underneath the pelts of the other, memorizing the paths in the body he had seen time and time again. There was clearly a demand between the pair, still, the elder ranger did not cater to his inner screaming youth and he pushed his addled brain for sharpness… ..the atmosphere once again becoming clear to him as the sounds of trickling water, twittering birds, and – a really needy, pawing owlet came to the inner shell of his ear, thighs aching to push up into the little thing. Light breaths were taken to mediate his mind and finally, he regained his sense of self {despite the impending blue balls that were to be a continuous reminder throughout the night that he had a chance and did not concede to his inner lust.} He wanted her to feel uplifted and to know that he was not just here to have his way with her and abandon her – young as she was … ..he saw it all of the time. Beautiful women giving up their virtue as well as their time and heart to philandering men who cajoled them using the prettiest of words to draw them in. Whilst he could not aid her in her confusing aches, he would do his best to offer her his affection… ..this was just as new territory for him, as it was for her. Throughout his life, Leith had experience with only *one* woman and to think he fell so easily for this mahogany haired youth meant that there was something to her. In rare instances, in the past, before he developed the scars upon his face – young girls would approach him, lifting their skirts to ‘service’ the soldier but each time he denied them. Their beauty was appreciated but his heart only belonged to one… ..he never thought he’d open himself up again and here he did so, wrapped in the arms of a freckled beauty with cornflower eyes – who now shown her confusion when the other pulled back or at least attempted to…she came ever closer. As she closed in on the space between them, he bit his lower lip upon hearing another sound from her… ..this is did not make it any easier for him but the ranger maintained his grounding. Ah, he really ached now, especially with the way her tongue moved across mouth right just after their kiss. Steadying his heavy breath, fingers curled tighter at the nape of owl turned wolf pup’s neck and temptation once again beckoned when she gave him such round, pained owlish like eyes. Even in her sadness there was an allure to the naïve girl and he wanted to kiss away those sorrows but knew that he needed to address this no doubt confusing situation for her. After reasons were given and explained, he let the weight of the situation fall upon the girl’s frail shoulders. Her latest whimper had his stomach sinking, though, the grim wanderer held himself back from comforting her too much as he didn’t want to give her mixed signals. He didn’t think those eyes could get any sadder… ..but they did {their gaze wide and filled with confusion yet trust and affection for the elder male who was trying his hardest to get her to understand their unraveling scenario.} … .. Momentarily, he paused when she managed to squeak out an ‘okay!’ forcing a smile to come afterwards, urgh, his heart indeed felt crushed now to see her peel off and away from him but in the end this was done to make her understand – to develop her emotional progression into the human realm {as much as it pained him too, his placid expression showing otherwise as he grunted and situated himself within his spot once again.} Forcing himself up out of his seat, he felt his loins screaming in agony at him but he managed to suppress it long enough to grab at her retreating body, rough hand grabbing at her wrist. “Swim.” His low, grumbling words giving hint that she could ‘cool’ off that way {as well as him, there had to be some recently thawed out spring somewhere where the sun warmed it up enough for swimming – he knew he had passed one when he entered into this country…and he was going to take her there.} Once again, his voice strained but he ‘evened’ it out enough to speak his next sentence to the lamenting owlet, “…with me.. come…” If she did as he asked, he would tug the girl up towards him and take her away from the dank cave to the open night sky where the stars reflected upon an open lake… ..that would be their cooling salvation that night. {e}
ᗪσղղαlly : -{ the owlet had curled up in the dust alone without Leith, miserable at the idea of laying there without the grim wanderer, as she’d become accustomed already to huddling up close to him each night for warmth and comfort. She was sincerely confused and aching, and while one arm was in a sling, still healing from where she’d been shot through the arm, then bitten partially by that murderous wolf (whom she now wore as a headdress), she could only cradle herself with her one good arm, which she did. That arm crossed her body and clung to the opposite arm where there wasn’t injury beneath the linens and sling. All the while they had been together, Leith had been refreshing her linens and the applied salve with the remaining medical supplies, though they were running low, the linens mostly, though they kept using the same sling because it wasn’t getting dirtied by seepage or trace blood from her healing wounds. Donnally’s mahogany head perked up from where she lay in that cave when Leith rumbled in his gruff way to invite her out of the cave for a swim. There would be fresh air, a new setting, a little bit of washing, and a little bit of fun. With all this, Donnally brightened, sitting up fully with only slightly awkwardness around her restricted arm. Her slanted smile relayed to Leith that she was eager for a change in atmosphere, and grateful he offered to escort her off toward a small adventure under his watch. The owlet hopped up to her feet with a quiet hoot in her throat, and gamboled toward the older ranger, reaching her good hand toward him to curl her fingers into the leathers of his jerkin as she often had become accustomed to while walking with him these days. He could lead the way, have both hands free, and she could have the comfort of proximity. They both could use a change of scenery probably. Though, the owlet seemed always content, leastways as long as the ranger was guiding her about. She had become momentarily doleful earlier, but the prospect of this small journey lifted her up again. “I don’t know if I know how to swim, but I really would like to!” Cooed the useless owlet with all of her befuddled memories, nearly hopping at the ranger’s side while they walked. they stepped out into the cooler air together, small owlet dressed in wolfs’ furs and the grim, stoic ranger looming nearby. “Look, Sagittarius is back!” She hooted and pointed with her nose toward the sky, as her hands were occupied. She was energetic at his side, skipping a few steps on occasion, humming a few fragmented melodies, or just ambling buoyantly at his side for brief moments of quiet. “Leith!” she warbled his name through her slanted smile, glancing up at him now. “Thank you for bringing me out!” She acknowledged cheerily. “Will I ever meet other people? Or see a city? I think I should like to meet more people, if they’re like you!” sang the owlet candidly. The sound of lightly moving water was nearby, so she released her hold on his jerkin and gamboled ahead of the ranger, mahogany hair bouncing in cheery waves with each skip and step. She hopped toward the water, excited for a new adventure, gathered her feet under her on a large rock, then leapt fearlessly into the water without knowing how cold it might be that night beneath the woodland stars. When her form vanished into the water with a splash, an alarmed yelp rose up in her place. Did she hit a rock? Get caught in some weeds? Find a water snake or some other danger? No. It was *cold!* At first anyway, though her skin was acclimating already. “Leith!” She hooted as she often did. One problem did exist though: her slinged arm wasn’t useful, and all the linens were now soaked through. Truth told, though, it was probably good to get a thorough wash over her wounds, even if Leith had diligently and carefully scrubbed them on regular intervals. That arm in the sling flapped against the water like a flightless duckling’s wing, while the other circled around to help her tread water. The bottom couldn’t have been too far beneath her toes, but she wasn’t exactly tall. She sucked in and spit out a fountain of water, partially on accident at first, then to play since she already had water in her mouth from one of her low bobs that took half her face under the surface a moment. “Leith-Leith-Leith-come here!” she chanted on a shivery exhale and warbling laugh. }-
Ḷeḭtḧ : -:- In his peripheral, he watched the dust particles rise from the slumping owlet, his heart becoming wrenched. Fingerless gloved reached, faltering at first in their course towards her crumpled body. Confusion, haze, hesitation; all these feelings swelled within the air and the stoic ranger felt himself recoiling in the heavy ambience strangling them. Something needed to be done. Seeing the little thing burrow up into her furs caused him to finally stand up, leathers creaking, travel worn boots thudding – each little noise announcing the curled-up owlet that her keeper was approaching. Gruff tones gave suggestion to cooler options and in doing so, up rose the girl from the dirtied floors, cornflower eyes brightening at the proposition. Dampened spirits were balmed… ..how long would that last? It was best not to question it now whilst the sprightly, freckled girl hopped up from her sulking position on the ground to reach out for the older ranger’s leathers. Small fingers caused the ends of Leith’s attire to complain, digits only clenching harder now that they began to move towards the outside which offered fresh perspective versus the poignant atmosphere which only brought somberness to them. The stony wanderer wouldn’t leave unarmed though, shoulder now bearing the weight of his bow whilst his quiver of arrows was fashioned also to converge to his side {should he choose to do so within combat but he wore it nonetheless this way tonight.} Out into the eve, they both walked – their previous encounter still hanging about the elder male like a heavy shroud… ..sadly the sensitivity of his, ahem, condition did not allow comfort in his walk with the youthful sylvan. Tilting his head, brown eyes came to look upon the girl he guided into the woodlands without hesitation; he knew the paths well enough for them to not get lost… ..that wouldn’t prevent his thoughts from becoming adrift though.. He answered her, his grumbling voice replied to her latest statement, “…I will teach you.” And with that, he looked away from the other, dipping into further into the thicket line of trees until signs of running water came to be heard by his ears. Did he really mean his most recent words or was he humoring her? It seemed to be the truth as he was not one to say false things to the girl – he had been most honest with the young thing up until this point, why even lie at all? Remaining guarded, he continued onward, the girl's song and dance causing him to be slightly at ease... ..attention now drawn to the skies as the canopies overhead lessen and lessen to unveil the majesty of the glistering balls of light. "...big dipper..little dipper..." He decided to offer his own input towards the stars that were being pointed out, contributing to her happiness. No one was ever constantly buoyant but the girl shown enough radiant exuberance to last not only her but him a lifetime since their 'fateful' meeting through the woods. His head perking underneath his hood when she warbled his name happily and he'd stop midstride, reaching out with fingerless gloves to tousle her locks before continuing on down the path, guiding the girl along the pebbled, mossy areas where the lake slowly emerged into their vision. What promptly caught him off guard was the inquiry she had about meeting other people... ..including seeing a city and how she wished to encounter others if they were like him. A light 'heh' came as a reply towards the girl who gamboled ahead of the ranger but his stoicism now took hold of him, complexion placid as she skipped over rocks with not so calculated steps. He allowed her to advance; there was no reason for apprehension in this moment, area was clear. Yet, despite the atmosphere having no threats around them he felt the threat of the future weighing down upon him. Before he met this girl, thinking about more than just tomorrow's rising sun wasn't something he did. Now he contained these foreign emotions he had bottled up nearly a decade ago... .. Leith did not wish to be covetous of the other's freedom but there was such a vast world out there. He knew he couldn't protect her from everything but prior thoughts now began to creep their way into his mind as he watched her advance, form swathed in the light of the moonlit eve. Traveling was easy but submerging yourself into another culture when you were unprepared brought uneasiness and these disquieted feelings ate away at the elder's mind. What if she got overwhelmed within the crowds? What if she was to be swarmed by horrid things... ..things he couldn't control? He desired for the young lassie to continue her education of the realms around them, to explore the joys and hurts of humanity but what if her naked, ingenuous personality got the better of her because he had not properly equipped her? On and on, his mind created scenarios -- the last touching upon a somewhat sensitive subject as their recent kiss indicated how he opened a door that could be easily closed if she found someone, she herself was attracted to. He was older, yes, seasoned in the ways of life but this did not make him a prominent choice for the young girl.... .. ... ... all thoughts halted as he made his way out from the nearest line of trees, ears catching the sounds of something impacting the water. Damnit! Had she fallen in?! Immediately, he became alarmed. He dropped his weapons thoughtlessly to the ground and as he came to the edge of the lake, she emerged hooting out his name joyfully, dripping in water from head to toe -- this damn girl. Her attire was completely drenched and a light sigh expelled from his lips when she flapped against the water like some flightless duckling attempting to ride the surface of the bobbing lake. Kicking off his boots, he began to undo the various buckles of his attire letting it all fall from the waistline down save for his pants, skin instantly becoming pebbled from the surrounding cold like the shoreline {which was covered in them} and he descended into the waters after the bubbly girl... ..who splashed about whenever the ranger did attempt to get near to her. After he did away with his clothing, muscles rippled with each movement he made towards the younger girl. Underneath the hanging moon and shining stars, his scarred torso and upper body became visible, the burn marks of his story becoming real… ..he had not exaggerated when he unveiled his past to her. Some parts of his skin held no scar whilst others were stretched out and uneven with slight redness signifying where the ranger’s body ‘endeavored’ to heal. In his approach, his brown eyes met with her owllike cornflowers, low grumbles coming to her when she managed to splash him in the face causing his hair to become wet. "... ..." At first, he appeared 'upset.' Silence passing between the pair; the sounds of the forest became prominent, the surrounding waters lapping against their still forms as Leith allowed the rising scenario to sink in. Lifting his hands from beneath the waters, he instead extended them towards her shoulders where he placed both rough hands. “...don’t stress your arm.” His voice growled lowly {not in agitation though, hands reaffirming their grasp.} The grim ranger began to guide the owlet along gently; mumbling on how she needed to relax for his assistance in helping her swim... ..that and the furs needed to be removed if she wished for any access in being able to float this late, cold eve. Already planning ahead, he began to lightly tug upon her headdress, prying it from her lithe frame and throwing it towards the shoreline whilst they bobbed about the cold waters. Fingers coaxed her to fall back upon his frame and if she did, those same digits would press underneath the little thing’s armpits to amble through the murky lake’s waters, creating ripples about the surface which stretched out the sky’s firmament reflecting below. They were swimming in stars; silhouettes swathed in moonlight. {e}
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