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Amaury did his best to hide his relief at the absence of her hunting party. With the circumstances at hand he was half sure she'd order them to rob him blind; after all, they didn't exactly have a rapport. Still, he smiled pleasantly and pushed his pack inside the newly pitched tent. "Hold on a few seconds more." The mason knelt down and crawled inside, pulling out his bedroll and unrolling it down the tent floor. Truthfully the shelter wasn't meant for more than one person, and though it was possible for them both to lie down inside he wasn't planning on that. The bandit king looked as though she were about to collapse, so his mind was made up on who had dibs.

"Hey, don't worry about that right now. I'll handle it. You should dry up a bit first; it'll make bandaging easier. Oh, and you might want to start on that booze." Though the mason sounded careless, he was immediately worried that he was too patronizing. Amaury brushed off the worry and walked toward Iskra again.

When Marenithiel tucked further into the shack he glanced over the tent and shot another smile, trying to be disarming.

Had she been in a bad mood, she probably would've; when Iskra got angry, she could be quite ruthless. But the fact of her situation was that she wasn't prepared to face the situation by herself, and that maybe attacking the one person (and, in this case, creature as well) who was willing to help her was a bad idea.

Iskra watched Maren move, and since Amaury didn't seem to realize what she was doing, the bandit stepped into the shack, picking the bench up to the best of her ability, "Thank you..."She said softly to Maren, realizing the unicorn must've understood their language, at least. She pulled it out of the shack by the time he had exited the tent, and set it down in front of him, "P-Put it wherever...you seem to be the one in control of the situation."

Iskra however, made no move to enter the tent, staying close to the wall of the shack without making Marenithiel too uncomfortable. She had, however, begun drinking from her flask, not hesitating to listen to that bit of advice, "So... tell me, stranger. Why exactly.... is a mason wandering about in these woods...at night...?"

Maren’s posture relaxed once Iskra spoke her thanks to her. She could see clearly that she was in pain and glanced away in what might have been shame. The light from her horn dimmed by a degree as she thought over her options. How quick would it be to heal her wounds, and does she even deserve it considering that if she were healthy she probably would seek to harm her? A creature in pain was hard to ignore for Maren, but she decided to wait and see.

She stepped back to her original resting place in the shack so she could see out comfortably and watch the two. Iskra’s proximity to the shelter did not cause her any worry now that she knew the condition she was in.

((Edit: added a bit more))

The mason watched Iskra retrieve the stool in a mixture of uncertainty and awe. For all that the situation had calmed, he was still blown away by the appearance of Maren. He shrugged at the bandit's initial observation. "Control? True... for now. Lucky that I'm a nice guy, right?" He glanced back at the tent, and then at her. "You're... not going to-- Well, ok. Let me see..."

Amaury approached the unicorn slowly, though not so painstakingly that it was odd. "Sorry, I just need to get my hat..." And if Maren permitted it he would do just that, giving the beast a low, if stiff bow. The bandit king's question did not ring on deaf ears, and he responded smoothly. "I got lost. Actually I've been lost for a little while now and I decided after the second week that it was worth the risk to seek the road as much as I could, regardless of the hour. Running out of supplies, and all that."

"It is weird though. I could swear I haven't been far from the road most of the time wandering out here. Maybe that monster had me under a spell? Hm..."

"It was an aufhocker, I hardly imagine it was what had you under a spell." Iskra was slowly sinking to the ground, sitting there quietly for another moment, "However...sometimes the places the make home...can charm travelers. Makes for easy prey, aimlessly wandering people...they are tricky beasts, it's...so uncommon they live to that maturity." Iskra was in pain, quite a bit of it, and she glanced apprehensively at the tent, then at the mess of dried blood and mud on her leather armor. Standing was getting more difficult, so she managed to kneel, ditching the ruined pieces of armor against the side of the house before very quietly, as if not trying to attract attention to herself, she slid into the tent.

The bandit king wasn't used to help. Hell, she didn't like help; being a woman, in her position, she had developed a very firm stance on not looking like some damsel in distress. But it was hard to hide the "in distress" part, and she sure as hell had behaved like a damsel, what a fool she was. Iskra shut her eyes, appreciating the shelter the tent provided from the rain. She really didn't want the pity or worry, yet it was nearly impossible for her to avoid while still receiving the mans help, "So...your name. I prefer to know the names of those I owe." She spoke with added confidence, maybe from being able to hide in the tent, or maybe from the fact she was doing pretty well chugging the alcohol she had brought along with her. Probably both.

Maren angles her head to the side slightly and fixes her large equine eyes on Amaury as though appraising his bow. She doesn’t stir when he bends to retrieve his hat but she watches his movements carefully, the muscles under her slightly damp coat were tense with expectation.

The smell of blood from Iskra worried her and she focused once more on the light emanating from her horn; even in the rain the scent of blood might carry to those with sharp noses.

Although the mason was reluctant to take Iskra's care into his own hands he fretted a bit when the fighter retreated quietly into the tent. "My name's Amaury. If you can manage, the bandages are in there... ah, hell. Sorry about this." Amaury stepped away from Marenithiel harmlessly and went back to the tent, carefully pushing the abandoned armor scraps aside so he may crouch in front of the tent flap. "Thanks for the heads up, by the way. I had no idea what an aufhocker is until you explained. I mean it."

Despite his better judgment the mason moved inside, averting his gaze from the bandit king to show some semblance of respect while reaching gingerly for his pack. If permitted he'd remove the bandages he'd mentioned as well as a handkerchief. It wasn't much to help with all of the rain but he figured it'd help to clean up the location of the injury.

Iskra didn't seem to be on edge, only watching him as he took out the bandages, "Well, they're a... little complex. Shape shifting creatures, they like to attack people who are alone... travelers, or, in your case, people who get lost." She leaned her head on her shoulder and shut her eyes, "They're never usually so up front about attacks... unless their desperate for prey, or they're very mature. And that one had a very... nice snack when I found him. They like to jump on the backs of their victims, slash their throats like that, it's a messy kill. Sometimes they'll land on you as a bug...grow in size until they crush you beneath their weight."

She was certainly a lot less menacing without her armor and cloak, looking tired and wounded how she was seemed to deter from her overall dangerous appearance. Her thin hair stuck to her face and it's light color seem stained red in the back where she had hit her head on the tree- sleeping wouldn't be a good idea for her, lest she not wake again, "I'm Iskra Sokol, King of the bandit clan Onyx. You....may refer to me as Iskra. Skip the formalities."

Maren’s ears pinned back slightly at the description that Iskra made of the monster they encountered. She let out a sigh and hoped the night would pass quickly and began to groom her coat as best she could. Maren’s head turned away from the hole in the wall to groom as a deer might, with the occasional careful scratch with a hind foot to the back of her head. The rain caused quite a disturbance to her usually soft fur.

She listened to the conversation, but none of the names rang a bell to her except the phrase "Onyx" that she would sometimes hear merchants or other road-goers whisper from time to time when she watched the road in secret. Her curiosity always seemed to bring her towards humans despite the risk of discovery.

Though Amaury was no medic he inspected her injuries thoroughly, once it was apparent she would not lash out at him for it. Firstly he inspected her broken arm and frowned. Seeing that the bone was evenly split brought him comfort earlier that it'd make an easier set, but once he focused on treating it he realized he could just as likely worsen it. Resolving that action was necessary regardless the mason fashioned a makeshift splint out of a chisel from his belt, bringing the object close before saying, "Here; bite this. I know its weird, but this is gonna hurt and I don't want you to bite your tongue." Then he produced a folded leather strip, likely for binding his hair in easier situations.

While presenting the bit of leather he took a peek at her head. From where he was it was difficult to tell just how bad her head injury had become, so it would take a bit of time before he'd fully realize what kind of danger the woman was in. "...Iskra. I could swear I've heard that name before. No surprise from what you've mentioned though, huh? You're probably no stranger to rough times. Don't worry; you'll be back gleeful murder and theft before you know it! In case you pass out, though... is there anything I should know about Onyx? To avoid misunderstandings, that is." It was valuable information but mostly Amaury wanted her to keep talking. He vaguely remembered that was the smart thing to do while treating head injuries.

Keeping his voice even was easy but the mason felt thoroughly unsettled. He had no idea what he was doing, and he wondered if it showed.

"Yeah, your name gets around a bit... once you slaughter your own husband to steal his throne." She grumbled, her face a little red. Not exactly the best introduction to a stranger, but hey, what was expected of a bandit king? Maybe the "gleeful killer" comment was a little insulting, she didn't just go around killing people with a smile on her face, she usually did it when her short temper got the best of her. Which could explain why her husband was dead, who knew. However, once he mentioned her passing out and her clan, her lips came together in a tight frown, "Under no circumstances, if I pass out, should.... you hand me off to anyone of the clan. They'll kill me the first... chance they get. They were loyal to my husband...they fear me."

She took the leather strap and bit down on it, her blue eyes sliding to Amaury and giving him a short nod- she was ready, whenever he felt ready. She didn't seem to pick up on his lack of experience, or at the very least she didn't seem to care; Iskra probably didn't interact with a skilled healer with the occupation she had. But with the way she was looking, eyes half lidded and face a little flushed, maybe she was just drunk enough to not care. Either way, the bandit king had placed her trust in him, whether he could actually do it or not.

(Good thing I'm not drunk or else I'd have him fail horribly for comedic effect. As it is I leave the degree of success to you, as you understand her injury the best.)

Amaury focused his attention on the broken arm, resting the chisel in his lap for the first step. With as clean a motion as he could manage the mason pushed the outer forearm to align with the rest of it, clasping his hand firmly around the break to fix it in place. With as much haste as possible without abandon he begun wrapping the limb, securing a layer before pressing his chisel parallel to the bone. He wove a few more layers around the arm and chisel before awkwardly tying the top layer into a knot. It certainly wasn't the way a trained professional would do it, but if the bone was aligned just right it would do the job.

"There you go! That's what the alcohol was for, heh. I'll try to keep the thing about your clan in mind, but I hope you don't resent me too much if they catch you anyway. I've never fought more than... maybe a couple of bar fights. Hopefully the alf-- aufhocker keeps them away until you're better."

(Lmao honestly I'd do the same thing if I were in that state)

Iskra let out a sharp cry, but it was short and at least muffled, thanks to the leather strap. After the initial shock, she was silent, and once he was finished with her arm she had removed the leather strap.

The woman nodded softly, "Yes, yes...it will probably... keep them away..." Her eyes were much softer than they had been before, and she handed back the leather strap to him, before the woman just collapsed onto her side, thankfully not on her arm. The bandit king had reached her limit, the pain between her arm and her other injuries was too much.

Amaury made a small, surprised gasp when Iskra crumpled to the side. He could tell she didn't have much time left awake but he didn't know that it would be that sudden. The mason swept his arms around her to prevent a harsh fall and awkwardly drew her back to the bedroll. He rolled the unconscious woman on her side and tucked her in before winding around to inspect her head injury. Though it was hard to see under her hair the man eventually found it and grimaced. What could he do for it, other than just bandaging it?

Seeing little alternative the mason did just that with his remaining supplies, rolling a bit into a bunch where the injury was to stifle bleeding, then securing it with more bandages by winding it around her head. It would look awkward but hopefully help? Amaury wished then again that the unicorn's luck was a legitimate phenomenon; he wouldn't know what to do if Iskra fell into a coma.

Iskra was breathing still, so that was at least good. Her face was passive, the dark circles under her eyes much more noticable. If he had been trapped in the woods by the charm too, it was likely the case with her. But the bandit king wouldn't admit something like that, so she had just gone ahead to be confident.

She was a little feverish, lying on the bedroll, but she didnt seem in pain anymore, and hopefully the light would keep away the remaining creatures until dawn.

Maren looked up from her grooming, steadily growing restless as their conversation carried on. Even through the patter of the rain she could pick out the strain in Iskra’s voice. Then silence – After a few moments Maren couldn’t take it any longer and stood, and with a determined flick of her tail she stepped out into the rain to peer at the tent. She lowered her head down for a better look; her horn lightly brushing the top of the tent. The steady soft light that radiated from it wavered in the rain like a beacon.

Her nostrils flared slightly, and was relieved to see that Iskra was still alive, desite that this human was clearly a hunter and in any other situation would likely be gleeful at the chance of taking her head or horn as a prize. But all the same she was in a dreadful pain that Maren could no longer overlook.

She hovered outside the tent. Her coat twitched irritably at the rain hitting her and in light lilting voice directed to Amaury, she said “Human…I can tell that your...companion is in need. I can take care of the worst of her injury…” She paused for a moment in thought, “in exchange for a minor condition.”

She lifted one cloven hoof from the muddy ground and waited outside the tent for a response.

//Hello, I'm terribly new, and was wondering iF I could join, I had no clue where else to put this, terribly sorry!

Amaury looked up as the unicorn stepped into sight, eyes widening when she spoke to him. When she paused he nodded hastily, some of his mussed hair bouncing atop his head with said motion. "Uh, well, lets hear it. What do you need, miss... unicorn?"

While speaking he turned back to ensure that the pillow was properly under Iskra's head and that nothing he'd removed from the pack would stay out. Bandages and small objects that impeded his reach of them earlier were pushed haphazardly back into the mason's backpack and the lip of the container was flopped forward and buttoned.

(There's an OOC forum linked on the first post, we can speak further there. You're free to join, since this is open.)

"Ludvig, Ludvig! Damn you, wake up!" screamed the voices in his head, Ludvig smacked his head as he rose, screaming. The Forest was dark, rain poured in sheets. "Vy, Vy, Vy!" screamed Ludvig in his thick accent, he stomped a booted Foot. He shuffled through the woods, clutching his side, which had been injured by...something. As he continued Forth, he stumbled and Fell, when he raised his head, he saw a ramshackle Hut, thinking it abandoned, he stumbled towards the entrance...

“Apples, cherries—and fruits much larger than I could ever find out here in this forest. I have seen human markets and the orchards in which they have been grown from before." She blinks her eyes slowly at the savory memory, then continues, "I was told long ago that when amongst humans at a market, you must have money to… pay?-- for them. I wish to have some fruit from such a market and discover further at what they may have there.”

Maren’s ears swiveled forward to him in interest at her own proposal. It seemed to her that since he was a human he must surely have the money needed, and that for her services perhaps he could guide her through the town without raising suspicion; though she forgot to mention her shapeshifting abilities.

One of her ears twitched now, having thought she heard movement behind her, and turned to look at the darkness beyond the light that shone through her horn.