He had set out by ship from that cursed isle. He had hoped the nature of the place might offer some sort of reprieve, even if just by being able to blend in more easily. Little by little however, the people and the practices had sickened him. The ship voyage had been a tedious and nerve wracking thing. What if he shifted during those three nights spent on board? Where would he go? How would he be able to hide? He'd stayed locked in his cabin, but thankfully the beast never came. The woman did however. She always came back. She would never give him peace.
Much like shifting, there was almost no warning. He would feel a faint chill pass over his flesh, like a cold breeze was blowing. This time, it woke him up. He sat up suddenly on the narrow cot, which was barely more than an elevated board with a thin tatty mattress over the top of it. She stood only a few paces away, head tilted to the side as though in contemplation, dark eyes fixed on him. Her skin held the pallor of death, her hair, rumpled, tangled and looking brittle, as though a touch would cause it to break away like old straw. She wore what she'd worn in life.. or rather, what she'd been wearing when she died.. a simple peasant's dress with a shawl draped across her shoulders. The material however seemed to have aged many decades. Faded, dull and full of holes, as though it had been moth-eaten.
The woman he had slain so long ago.. The one who had laid the curse upon him. Even after over two hundred years of being haunted by her... He still had never quite gotten over the shock of her sudden appearances. She might come to him merely days apart.. Although often he went months without seeing her. Sometimes, he might even go without her appearing to him for several years.. But, she always returned.
"What do you want now?" he asked, trying to keep his breathing steady, even though his pulse had sped up.
"That didn't work out for you very well, did it?" A thin smile came across the woman's lips. She rarely showed much emotion at all. The slight smile, he'd come to realize, was about the equivalent to being laughed at.
"Go away." He told her, sharply, although that never worked. He looked away from her.. Sometimes.. just sometimes if he ignored her long enough she'd give up.
"Even in a den of filth and thieves.. criminals.. and so called 'foul' creatures of magic.. Even among them.. You are an outsider. You are a monster. The very dredges of humanity do not want you. They cast you out."
Gwyr stared impassively at the wall, pretending not to hear her. This was one of her favorite games after all.. And while he was angry with her.. While he hated her for what she had done to him, and how long she'd continued to torment him.. There was always some part of himself reminding him that he deserved it. Did he not deserve whatever she could dish out? After all he had killed her. He'd killed her and others like her.
When the silence had stretched for several minutes, he finally looked back where she'd been, only to find her standing directly beside him, staring down.
"You will never find peace Gwyr, because I can never have it. What you took from me is your eternal burden." Each word was almost spat out, her voice laced with a mixture of ice and venom. She reached for him, and he recoiled, his back hitting the wooden wall of his cabin.. But no icy fingers brushed his flesh. That would have been far worse. Having the ghost touch him, was far more horrific than just her words.
She was gone once more.. and he was alone in the small locked cabin.
When he'd reached the port town, he'd bought some meager rations, merely some hardtack and some dried meat. He hated dealing with people.. His appearance often drew stares, and sometimes worse. People refusing to do business with him, guards being called to follow the 'suspicious person' At times he'd even been mistaken for a drow, due to the coloration of his skin, even if it was not quite the same. He could easily be mistake for a half drow, he supposed. At least the merchant he bought from didn't seem to care what he looked like so long as the two coins he'd paid were real silver, which they were.
He headed North, past the city gates, quickly before too many rumors spread about the strange 'drow' or 'demon' man that was wandering the streets. He went on foot. It was not particularly wise for him to have a horse, as he never knew when he was going to spend the next day or night.. or even several days and nights in the form of a massive hairy beast.
His clothing was simple enough. There was nothing that outright stood out. Simple long-sleeved black tunic. Faded black breeches that had been black at one time, but were now closer to a dark grey.. Sturdy boots with thick soles that came to mid calf.. meant to carry one for many miles of travel.. and many miles they had seen, by the looks of them. He'd donned the sleeveless 'coat' again, a garment he'd become fond of many years before. The weather was a bit more suitable for such here. He kept to the main road. Well armed, with both his blades, and his magic, he had little to fear from bandits so long as they did not take him by surprise. Hours passed and the city was far behind, with nothing but a lonely empty road in both directions. He'd been passed by only three merchant wagons during the time, and all three times, he'd merely eased off the road itself, and paid them no mind as they passed him.
For a while, there had been farmlands.. but soon even that was gone and all that remained was rolling hills that would eventually become mountains off to the west, and flanking his other side, thick old growth forest. It was summer still, but the summers of these lands were mild in comparison to where he'd been. The trees were primarily oak and elm, save for where clusters of much faster growing pine had taken over. As night fell, and the air grew cool, he began to search for a place to camp for the night. He entered the forest itself, finding a small clearing that was perhaps only a few dozen paces in. There were signs of an old fire pit, but the ash was clearly old.. There were no tracks, and some weeds and leaf litter had started to reclaim the bare soil. He deemed it safe enough to stop for the night. 'Making camp' was as simple as gathering some deadfall, and carefully arranging it over the forgotten remains of the previous campfire.
He was by no means a powerful wizard or sorcerer.. But he had more than a few self taught tricks up his sleeves, so to speak. He drew in on his magic, feeling the energy race up along his spine and through his limbs. He 'pushed' it down into his right hand, focusing the energy there. A few heartbeats later, a deep blue tendril of fire burst up from his hand.. and he transferred it to the logs.. Orange eyes focused on the unnatural fire, channeling more of the Aether into it, and the flames began to give off heat.. Then the logs burst into flame, real mundane fire.. and he let the blue flames be consumed by it. He scooted back a bit, and began rummaging in his pack.";
Much like shifting, there was almost no warning. He would feel a faint chill pass over his flesh, like a cold breeze was blowing. This time, it woke him up. He sat up suddenly on the narrow cot, which was barely more than an elevated board with a thin tatty mattress over the top of it. She stood only a few paces away, head tilted to the side as though in contemplation, dark eyes fixed on him. Her skin held the pallor of death, her hair, rumpled, tangled and looking brittle, as though a touch would cause it to break away like old straw. She wore what she'd worn in life.. or rather, what she'd been wearing when she died.. a simple peasant's dress with a shawl draped across her shoulders. The material however seemed to have aged many decades. Faded, dull and full of holes, as though it had been moth-eaten.
The woman he had slain so long ago.. The one who had laid the curse upon him. Even after over two hundred years of being haunted by her... He still had never quite gotten over the shock of her sudden appearances. She might come to him merely days apart.. Although often he went months without seeing her. Sometimes, he might even go without her appearing to him for several years.. But, she always returned.
"What do you want now?" he asked, trying to keep his breathing steady, even though his pulse had sped up.
"That didn't work out for you very well, did it?" A thin smile came across the woman's lips. She rarely showed much emotion at all. The slight smile, he'd come to realize, was about the equivalent to being laughed at.
"Go away." He told her, sharply, although that never worked. He looked away from her.. Sometimes.. just sometimes if he ignored her long enough she'd give up.
"Even in a den of filth and thieves.. criminals.. and so called 'foul' creatures of magic.. Even among them.. You are an outsider. You are a monster. The very dredges of humanity do not want you. They cast you out."
Gwyr stared impassively at the wall, pretending not to hear her. This was one of her favorite games after all.. And while he was angry with her.. While he hated her for what she had done to him, and how long she'd continued to torment him.. There was always some part of himself reminding him that he deserved it. Did he not deserve whatever she could dish out? After all he had killed her. He'd killed her and others like her.
When the silence had stretched for several minutes, he finally looked back where she'd been, only to find her standing directly beside him, staring down.
"You will never find peace Gwyr, because I can never have it. What you took from me is your eternal burden." Each word was almost spat out, her voice laced with a mixture of ice and venom. She reached for him, and he recoiled, his back hitting the wooden wall of his cabin.. But no icy fingers brushed his flesh. That would have been far worse. Having the ghost touch him, was far more horrific than just her words.
She was gone once more.. and he was alone in the small locked cabin.
When he'd reached the port town, he'd bought some meager rations, merely some hardtack and some dried meat. He hated dealing with people.. His appearance often drew stares, and sometimes worse. People refusing to do business with him, guards being called to follow the 'suspicious person' At times he'd even been mistaken for a drow, due to the coloration of his skin, even if it was not quite the same. He could easily be mistake for a half drow, he supposed. At least the merchant he bought from didn't seem to care what he looked like so long as the two coins he'd paid were real silver, which they were.
He headed North, past the city gates, quickly before too many rumors spread about the strange 'drow' or 'demon' man that was wandering the streets. He went on foot. It was not particularly wise for him to have a horse, as he never knew when he was going to spend the next day or night.. or even several days and nights in the form of a massive hairy beast.
His clothing was simple enough. There was nothing that outright stood out. Simple long-sleeved black tunic. Faded black breeches that had been black at one time, but were now closer to a dark grey.. Sturdy boots with thick soles that came to mid calf.. meant to carry one for many miles of travel.. and many miles they had seen, by the looks of them. He'd donned the sleeveless 'coat' again, a garment he'd become fond of many years before. The weather was a bit more suitable for such here. He kept to the main road. Well armed, with both his blades, and his magic, he had little to fear from bandits so long as they did not take him by surprise. Hours passed and the city was far behind, with nothing but a lonely empty road in both directions. He'd been passed by only three merchant wagons during the time, and all three times, he'd merely eased off the road itself, and paid them no mind as they passed him.
For a while, there had been farmlands.. but soon even that was gone and all that remained was rolling hills that would eventually become mountains off to the west, and flanking his other side, thick old growth forest. It was summer still, but the summers of these lands were mild in comparison to where he'd been. The trees were primarily oak and elm, save for where clusters of much faster growing pine had taken over. As night fell, and the air grew cool, he began to search for a place to camp for the night. He entered the forest itself, finding a small clearing that was perhaps only a few dozen paces in. There were signs of an old fire pit, but the ash was clearly old.. There were no tracks, and some weeds and leaf litter had started to reclaim the bare soil. He deemed it safe enough to stop for the night. 'Making camp' was as simple as gathering some deadfall, and carefully arranging it over the forgotten remains of the previous campfire.
He was by no means a powerful wizard or sorcerer.. But he had more than a few self taught tricks up his sleeves, so to speak. He drew in on his magic, feeling the energy race up along his spine and through his limbs. He 'pushed' it down into his right hand, focusing the energy there. A few heartbeats later, a deep blue tendril of fire burst up from his hand.. and he transferred it to the logs.. Orange eyes focused on the unnatural fire, channeling more of the Aether into it, and the flames began to give off heat.. Then the logs burst into flame, real mundane fire.. and he let the blue flames be consumed by it. He scooted back a bit, and began rummaging in his pack.";
Luna was often alone and often travelling. She spent many years doing just this, mainly at the hand of her own irrational behavior. Temperamental and jealous, she fled her home after causing quite the ruckus, donning a curse befitting of such a violent individual. Or, well, a curse to her. It was probably a blessing by those who encountered her.
She had potential to be powerful, but she was clumsy and angry. The binding spell also worked wonders in whittling away at her stamina each time she'd cast anything. And yet... she still primarily relied on magic. At her hips, she carried a pair of chakram, which she only rarely threw in combat. She didn't quite use it right... both were actually quite dull on one side to allow her to grasp them tightly without cutting into her flesh. Again, maybe it's best she didn't use them the way they're supposed to be, seeing as though if they are used properly they can sever limbs!
Despite her typical violent outbursts and likelihood of burning a building up in a fit of rage, her thoughts were far from constantly focused on those things. She would often find herself wandering aimlessly through forests, contemplating religious theories she's created (or thought she had), wishing well to a long-since-visited companion, and wondering about the well-being of her family.
However, here, in these particular woods, she was doing none of those things. Instead, she was trying hard to locate a rope-trap she had set up earlier that day. She wandered off, contemplating the above things, but this last hour she'd spent trying to get back on track and checking to see if she'd caught anything. A dim light in the near-distance caught her eye though, distracting her from the task at hand. Suspicious, she began to sneak toward it. Before she made it to the clearing, she felt a tug, heard a snap and whirring noise, and suddenly she found herself releasing a surprised shriek shortly before she was dangling upside down.
Then came the storm of obscenities, Common and Elvish alike. Whoa-boy. Her weapons fell to the ground below, so she couldn't cut herself free. Magic was an option, but she was worried about burning herself. Instead, she sought to try to free herself by hand, which was much, much harder than she thought it would be.
She had potential to be powerful, but she was clumsy and angry. The binding spell also worked wonders in whittling away at her stamina each time she'd cast anything. And yet... she still primarily relied on magic. At her hips, she carried a pair of chakram, which she only rarely threw in combat. She didn't quite use it right... both were actually quite dull on one side to allow her to grasp them tightly without cutting into her flesh. Again, maybe it's best she didn't use them the way they're supposed to be, seeing as though if they are used properly they can sever limbs!
Despite her typical violent outbursts and likelihood of burning a building up in a fit of rage, her thoughts were far from constantly focused on those things. She would often find herself wandering aimlessly through forests, contemplating religious theories she's created (or thought she had), wishing well to a long-since-visited companion, and wondering about the well-being of her family.
However, here, in these particular woods, she was doing none of those things. Instead, she was trying hard to locate a rope-trap she had set up earlier that day. She wandered off, contemplating the above things, but this last hour she'd spent trying to get back on track and checking to see if she'd caught anything. A dim light in the near-distance caught her eye though, distracting her from the task at hand. Suspicious, she began to sneak toward it. Before she made it to the clearing, she felt a tug, heard a snap and whirring noise, and suddenly she found herself releasing a surprised shriek shortly before she was dangling upside down.
Then came the storm of obscenities, Common and Elvish alike. Whoa-boy. Her weapons fell to the ground below, so she couldn't cut herself free. Magic was an option, but she was worried about burning herself. Instead, she sought to try to free herself by hand, which was much, much harder than she thought it would be.
He tended to travel as light as possible, carrying only the bare essentials. He was used to going without, and roughing it. He'd been used to far less, being without any supplies whatsoever and having to live off the land for years at a time. He took out a small tin cup, and filled it with water from his waterskin, setting it on a flat stone near the fire so it would start to warm up. He only needed it warm after all, not boiling. He pulled out a packet, held it up towards the fire's light, and then tucked it away again. Not that one. He had a bundle of herbs he reserved for right after he returned to his human form. No matter how many times he shifted, it was always painful. No, the one he was looking for was merely a tea blend, something to help him unwind after many hours on the road.
He was still digging for the herb packet when a sound caused him to freeze. Was someone killing a cat? Was it some sort of bizarre bird? What sort of wild animal shrieked like that? Then. barely carrying far enough came the curses. He couldn't make enough of them out at such a distance.. But he could pick a work out here and there. It was too late to douse his fire, whatever it was.. They would have already seen the light. He stood and slipped off among the trees. He moved in a slight arch, rather than a straight line, bettering his chances of not encountering something head on, if it was after him. He'd been around a long time. He'd dealt with bandits and far worse. He'd been hunted more times than he could count. It made him cautious. He did not have a hero complex. An alarmed cry did not make him rush off headlong into a possibly dangerous situation.. On the contrary it made him suspicious. He moved well in the dark, making little noise as he drew nearer to the commotion. It was enough distance for his eyes to adjust in the dim light.. But for a few seconds, he was not sure what he was looking at. He saw a lot of hair dangling and flailing about, and arched a brow, puzzled.
Why was there a woman hanging upside down in the forest?
He scanned the surrounding area, looking for signs of anyone else out there nearby. He glanced back towards his camp, seeing if he saw shadows moving across the campfire. It was a trick he'd seen and heard about before. Using a woman as bait to lure campers away, while the other, or others robbed the supplies and ran. Not likely.. But he had to consider the possibilities. Expecting the worst out of people had kept him alive this long, after all. He watched her, from the cover of the denser undergrowth, crouched low. Her struggles did seem genuine.. And if she was trying to play the part of the damsel, she was certainly doing a poor job of it with the filth coming out of her mouth.. And he'd been around sailors and soldiers both.. He'd certainly heard his fair share, but this woman put even them to shame.
Another glance was cast back to his campsite, before he rose and stepped forward, into line of sight.
"I am not familiar with the laws of this land.. But I do believe poaching elves is illegal. Whenever the hunter comes along you should tell him that." He said, somewhat flatly.. but was there a twinge of dry humor there? His accent was not quite clear, a bit mingled and faded from so long spent traveling.. although perhaps it was comparable to Welsh.
He was still digging for the herb packet when a sound caused him to freeze. Was someone killing a cat? Was it some sort of bizarre bird? What sort of wild animal shrieked like that? Then. barely carrying far enough came the curses. He couldn't make enough of them out at such a distance.. But he could pick a work out here and there. It was too late to douse his fire, whatever it was.. They would have already seen the light. He stood and slipped off among the trees. He moved in a slight arch, rather than a straight line, bettering his chances of not encountering something head on, if it was after him. He'd been around a long time. He'd dealt with bandits and far worse. He'd been hunted more times than he could count. It made him cautious. He did not have a hero complex. An alarmed cry did not make him rush off headlong into a possibly dangerous situation.. On the contrary it made him suspicious. He moved well in the dark, making little noise as he drew nearer to the commotion. It was enough distance for his eyes to adjust in the dim light.. But for a few seconds, he was not sure what he was looking at. He saw a lot of hair dangling and flailing about, and arched a brow, puzzled.
Why was there a woman hanging upside down in the forest?
He scanned the surrounding area, looking for signs of anyone else out there nearby. He glanced back towards his camp, seeing if he saw shadows moving across the campfire. It was a trick he'd seen and heard about before. Using a woman as bait to lure campers away, while the other, or others robbed the supplies and ran. Not likely.. But he had to consider the possibilities. Expecting the worst out of people had kept him alive this long, after all. He watched her, from the cover of the denser undergrowth, crouched low. Her struggles did seem genuine.. And if she was trying to play the part of the damsel, she was certainly doing a poor job of it with the filth coming out of her mouth.. And he'd been around sailors and soldiers both.. He'd certainly heard his fair share, but this woman put even them to shame.
Another glance was cast back to his campsite, before he rose and stepped forward, into line of sight.
"I am not familiar with the laws of this land.. But I do believe poaching elves is illegal. Whenever the hunter comes along you should tell him that." He said, somewhat flatly.. but was there a twinge of dry humor there? His accent was not quite clear, a bit mingled and faded from so long spent traveling.. although perhaps it was comparable to Welsh.
Luna was not happy. That was a given, though, all things considered. Dangling from a tree by your very own trap didn't much improve one's mood, did it? Still, she adamantly attempted to free her feet, but to little avail. There was something about dangling upside down that made it the most difficult task to simply sit up and touch your feet.
Her attempts to loosen the rope consistently failed. She really, really did't want to have to resort to magic over something this small. It hurt, dammit! During her cursing and griping, she heard something approach. Instantly, she shut her trap and listened as intently as possible. The woman bit her lip and narrowed her eyes, trying to discern the noise between humanoid and feral creature. She discovered it was nothing like a bear, but humans and the like were incredibly dangerous as well. She may just have to use magic. Didn't originally want to risk burning anything that didn't need burning, and didn't really want to hurt either, but it might just need to be done.
And then he appeared. A glare was given, his words irritating her rather instantly. Oh, but don't worry! That's just her! Everything irritates her to no end. She seemed to be struggling to think of a reply, but it eventually came.
As an Elvish equivalent to "F-off." Her voice was absolutely drenched in acid! Awful, awful tone.
Her hand lifted toward her feet, but not too far. She had to aim a bit since she couldn't reach the rope. A surge of heat swept through her arm and collected at her palm. She winced. She allowed its release and the small flame collided with the rope. Her wince intensified and she grunted, but that's about as vocal as she got. Slowly eating it away, it was only a matter of time before the rope broke and she fell. RIGHT on her chakram. However, they're flat against the ground so no injuries were received! Getting up to her feet, she gathered her weapons and placed them back where they belonged. During this time, she'd give occasional glances to the man, every one of them unpleasant. She almost said it was her own trap, but decided against it.
Her attempts to loosen the rope consistently failed. She really, really did't want to have to resort to magic over something this small. It hurt, dammit! During her cursing and griping, she heard something approach. Instantly, she shut her trap and listened as intently as possible. The woman bit her lip and narrowed her eyes, trying to discern the noise between humanoid and feral creature. She discovered it was nothing like a bear, but humans and the like were incredibly dangerous as well. She may just have to use magic. Didn't originally want to risk burning anything that didn't need burning, and didn't really want to hurt either, but it might just need to be done.
And then he appeared. A glare was given, his words irritating her rather instantly. Oh, but don't worry! That's just her! Everything irritates her to no end. She seemed to be struggling to think of a reply, but it eventually came.
As an Elvish equivalent to "F-off." Her voice was absolutely drenched in acid! Awful, awful tone.
Her hand lifted toward her feet, but not too far. She had to aim a bit since she couldn't reach the rope. A surge of heat swept through her arm and collected at her palm. She winced. She allowed its release and the small flame collided with the rope. Her wince intensified and she grunted, but that's about as vocal as she got. Slowly eating it away, it was only a matter of time before the rope broke and she fell. RIGHT on her chakram. However, they're flat against the ground so no injuries were received! Getting up to her feet, she gathered her weapons and placed them back where they belonged. During this time, she'd give occasional glances to the man, every one of them unpleasant. She almost said it was her own trap, but decided against it.
Gwyr leaned back against a tree trunk casually, merely arching a brow slightly at the venom that was spat out of the elf girl's mouth. He was not exactly offended. After all, the man had been called every name imaginable at one point or another, and had certainly seen his share of rude behavior.
"If I was caught in a trap, my first inclination would not be to insult someone just for walking up and seeing me like that." He commented.
Would he have cut her down? Probably. After a bit. Gwyr was no Knight in Shining Armor however. He was not going to dash up, eager to save a 'damsel in distress' He had at least no longer suspected she was somehow 'in' on some sort of trap. No, she'd just blundered into one. Still, the existence of the trap itself, and it's placement, made him wonder...
He felt the drawing in of magic, sensed it, the instant before he saw the fire. A bit more curious now at least, he watched.. and to his credit, did wince a bit when she hit.
"It's fortunate you are as graceful as you are." came the dry commentary, before his gaze scanned over the area around them.
"That trap was clearly set to catch something larger than rabbits though.. Makes me wonder who would put such a thing that close to a well traveled road.. Either someone is trying to snare something larger than typical game.. A person, perhaps.. Or someone is just really inconsiderate and went overboard on the strength of the trap.."
He scanned the narrow trail that lead back in the direction of his camp. "Well.. Not my problem." And just like that, he started back the way he'd come.
"If I was caught in a trap, my first inclination would not be to insult someone just for walking up and seeing me like that." He commented.
Would he have cut her down? Probably. After a bit. Gwyr was no Knight in Shining Armor however. He was not going to dash up, eager to save a 'damsel in distress' He had at least no longer suspected she was somehow 'in' on some sort of trap. No, she'd just blundered into one. Still, the existence of the trap itself, and it's placement, made him wonder...
He felt the drawing in of magic, sensed it, the instant before he saw the fire. A bit more curious now at least, he watched.. and to his credit, did wince a bit when she hit.
"It's fortunate you are as graceful as you are." came the dry commentary, before his gaze scanned over the area around them.
"That trap was clearly set to catch something larger than rabbits though.. Makes me wonder who would put such a thing that close to a well traveled road.. Either someone is trying to snare something larger than typical game.. A person, perhaps.. Or someone is just really inconsiderate and went overboard on the strength of the trap.."
He scanned the narrow trail that lead back in the direction of his camp. "Well.. Not my problem." And just like that, he started back the way he'd come.
Luna's hand kneaded at the palm of the one that executed the spell. It wasn't burned, but because it was so small, the pain didn't course through her body like normal spells did. It remained in her hand and arm - a dull ache similar to arthritis, but it seeped through the flesh and muscle as well.
"If I saw someone caught in a trap, my first inclination would not be to make atrocious jokes," she replied. Her voice wasn't so mad now that she was free. It seemed that being caught in her own trap (although poorly laid out) was what made her so cranky.
She wasn't sure if the commentary was sarcastic or not, so she decided to simply ignore it. No good in dwelling on that anyway.
"I was making camp nearby and had only one rope. I cannot protect myself if I'm asleep." Her reply was rather monotonous, and she barely seemed to move her lips when she spoke. She was almost embarrassed now that everything was right-side-up again. After careful thinking, she decided she likely got off track making her way through the woods and circled back toward the road without realizing it. Every tree looked the same... how was she supposed to know she was so close to a road? Ah well, it's done and over with now!
Luna moved to climb the tree and free her rope. Before he could leave, though, she cast him an accusing glance. "Are you a bandit?" she asked blandly. "If there's a road nearby, there's likely to be some manner of town or roadside inn nearby, too. Why camp near the road unless you're eager to rob a merchant caravan or something similar?" She was on the ground now. Her voice didn't sound so much curious as it sounded accusing, but that could have been how she spoke. Her voice was pleasant and smooth, but maybe it was her attitude that made it irritating for most to listen to.
"If I saw someone caught in a trap, my first inclination would not be to make atrocious jokes," she replied. Her voice wasn't so mad now that she was free. It seemed that being caught in her own trap (although poorly laid out) was what made her so cranky.
She wasn't sure if the commentary was sarcastic or not, so she decided to simply ignore it. No good in dwelling on that anyway.
"I was making camp nearby and had only one rope. I cannot protect myself if I'm asleep." Her reply was rather monotonous, and she barely seemed to move her lips when she spoke. She was almost embarrassed now that everything was right-side-up again. After careful thinking, she decided she likely got off track making her way through the woods and circled back toward the road without realizing it. Every tree looked the same... how was she supposed to know she was so close to a road? Ah well, it's done and over with now!
Luna moved to climb the tree and free her rope. Before he could leave, though, she cast him an accusing glance. "Are you a bandit?" she asked blandly. "If there's a road nearby, there's likely to be some manner of town or roadside inn nearby, too. Why camp near the road unless you're eager to rob a merchant caravan or something similar?" She was on the ground now. Her voice didn't sound so much curious as it sounded accusing, but that could have been how she spoke. Her voice was pleasant and smooth, but maybe it was her attitude that made it irritating for most to listen to.
It seemed that Gwyr might have been on the edge of dismissing the woman all together and walking away. He'd taken several steps, and hadn't stopped when she made the first comment. At the second however, he stopped in his tracks and turned. He was not an exceptionally expressive individual. He rarely smiled, rarely showed anger beyond flickers of irritation. He looked mildly puzzled for a few seconds. A bit quizzical even, before realization dawned. ".. Wait. Let me get this straight... You thought one rope trap randomly placed was somehow going to protect you and let you sleep safely.." He raised a hand, making a half gesture towards her. His mouth opened, and then closed. His hand dropped to his side.
"One trap. Covering about what.. eight or nine degrees out of three hundred and sixty.. " He took a breath.. and let it out slowly. "Then.. You stepped in the only rope trap.. that you yourself had recently set.." He rubbed at his face a bit... Yes that was bordering on an outright facepalm. Then he just outright stared at her. For several seconds. Just stared.. As though he couldn't believe what had came out of her mouth. This was partly because he didn't know what to say to something like that. Her accusation was so ridiculous and unfounded, that for a moment he was truly stunned.
"Are you being serious..? Or are you just as terrible at making jokes as you are with remembering where you set traps?" He tilted his head slightly. Annoyed now, and still hardly believing what she'd just said. "Are you suggesting that one should hike many miles out of their way off the road when they get ready to stop for the night? Yes there is a town.. Forty Miles back that way..." He said, gesturing.. "And, about twenty five miles that way." He said, gesturing the direction he had been going.
"One trap. Covering about what.. eight or nine degrees out of three hundred and sixty.. " He took a breath.. and let it out slowly. "Then.. You stepped in the only rope trap.. that you yourself had recently set.." He rubbed at his face a bit... Yes that was bordering on an outright facepalm. Then he just outright stared at her. For several seconds. Just stared.. As though he couldn't believe what had came out of her mouth. This was partly because he didn't know what to say to something like that. Her accusation was so ridiculous and unfounded, that for a moment he was truly stunned.
"Are you being serious..? Or are you just as terrible at making jokes as you are with remembering where you set traps?" He tilted his head slightly. Annoyed now, and still hardly believing what she'd just said. "Are you suggesting that one should hike many miles out of their way off the road when they get ready to stop for the night? Yes there is a town.. Forty Miles back that way..." He said, gesturing.. "And, about twenty five miles that way." He said, gesturing the direction he had been going.
It seemed she understood just what he might be thinking judging by the expressions he wore. Embarrassment wasn't something pun felt too often, but it seemed tonight was the only exception, considering it was predominantly what she felt.
The elf tried to rain silent during his moment of vocal observation. At the last bit though, she decided she needed to speak up. "Yes. I set up one - count 'em - one trap. I already explained I only had one rope!"
She really wasn't a clever woman. Not only did she find herself dangling by a trap, but her own at that! Not to mention it was the only one she had laid out... To be honest, although she was a bit of a witch attitude-wise, she was kind of a pathetic creature.
"Of course I'm not saying that! What I'm asking is why you didn't keep going in the first place." Her voice sounded a bit more annoyed now. Ah well! Perhaps he wasn't the only one with previous experience with bandits and the like? Traveling on her own over the years put her in quite a few hairy situations. Still, one would think with that kind of experience they would better prepared.
((Sorry for errors! In bed on mobile. I tend to reply to make myself sleepy. Autocorrect could've screwed with my post idk yet.))
The elf tried to rain silent during his moment of vocal observation. At the last bit though, she decided she needed to speak up. "Yes. I set up one - count 'em - one trap. I already explained I only had one rope!"
She really wasn't a clever woman. Not only did she find herself dangling by a trap, but her own at that! Not to mention it was the only one she had laid out... To be honest, although she was a bit of a witch attitude-wise, she was kind of a pathetic creature.
"Of course I'm not saying that! What I'm asking is why you didn't keep going in the first place." Her voice sounded a bit more annoyed now. Ah well! Perhaps he wasn't the only one with previous experience with bandits and the like? Traveling on her own over the years put her in quite a few hairy situations. Still, one would think with that kind of experience they would better prepared.
((Sorry for errors! In bed on mobile. I tend to reply to make myself sleepy. Autocorrect could've screwed with my post idk yet.))
Gwyr had guessed roughly how far he'd made it. He knew it was well over halfway. It could have been only about thirty five or thirty six miles, but he was guessing closer to forty. A normal traveler on foot would be lucky to make thirty miles before nightfall.. And that was if they were accustomed to walking long distances. Gwyr however was not human anymore. However horribly he'd been cursed by his beast-side.. and although being what he was, held far more disadvantages.. It wasn't -all- bad. The fact that he could run tirelessly for several miles, or walk at a quick pace for ten or twelve without even getting all that tired was certainly useful. However, even he had his limits.
When the elf more or less asked him why he didn't make another twenty five miles during nightfall.. "Are you daft? .. Wait, no don't answer that.." He shook his head. "It's nightfall. I've already gone roughly forty miles today.. I will make the final twenty five during the day. And speaking of that.. I have to make an early start in the morning.. First light. And I still need to set wards, and I haven't eaten. Try not to kill yourself with your own idiocy." Once again he turned and started to head off.
When the elf more or less asked him why he didn't make another twenty five miles during nightfall.. "Are you daft? .. Wait, no don't answer that.." He shook his head. "It's nightfall. I've already gone roughly forty miles today.. I will make the final twenty five during the day. And speaking of that.. I have to make an early start in the morning.. First light. And I still need to set wards, and I haven't eaten. Try not to kill yourself with your own idiocy." Once again he turned and started to head off.
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