Wychtleth walked into the jail. She soon pulled her hood down, looking around, "Decent looking for a jail..."
In the shadowy, gloomy place, eyes of the young warrior wandered, still red rimmed with a dark, brooding gaze that would bring the eyes of those beholding them dark humour and desperation. He straightened with a gasp as he heard the sound of opening doors, heralding someone's coming. As the day light was let inside jail, an arm reached to cover his eyes, narrowed tight as chains. He would then rise tall, edging himself from his corner till he neared the cold, iron bars ''Is that you, Cynebur?'' words escaped the confines of the brooding man's mouth.
Wychtleth patted herself clear of snow before glancing back towards the door. Then she would reach into the top of her robes, towards her bosom, before pulling out a few cloth-wrapped items. Hearing the question, she chuckled some in response, "Sadly, I am not expected again... Nay, I am not she. How fares yourself and your faithful?"
Régnwald looked soundlessly for a few moments until he figured out... a woman with hair of red hue. ''I know you.'' he gave a sigh before sparing the barest of shrugs ''I'm well, as I can be.'' he uttered his words with an ironic way, some dark humour and let his head hang for a brief while ''So why come here? -- Here to mock me again.'' he assumed.
Wychtleth held a finger up, shaking it, "It is a common rule that outsiders do not mock other outsiders. If I wanted to laugh at someone's misfortunes, I have enough memories for that. Nay, I smuggled something worthy of making the cells here brighter. Small honey rolls... I would have made them larger but my bust full enough... Here." She would hold them out, "No need to hesitate. I did nothing more to them than just bake."
Régnwald gazed emptily over her with defiant eyes, managing the nature of the man and once the bearded chin jutted out, hesitating for a moment. Gazing back over his shoulder at his sleeping comrades, soon with a quickly drawn breath, he bowed his head faintly once. ''Thank you. -- Least Gydgar won't complain today.''
Wychtleth shook her head, clicking her tongue, "Told you not to hesitate... Not a man to follow orders anymore, are you?" She paused to look at the other forlorn prisoners, "I suppose they have the right to complain. Locked in cells like common beasts, left to rot in their own foils and waste. Ho, but enjoy the rolls. Brighter days will come."
Régnwald would reach a hand out to take the honey rolls offered, eyeing her a beat as the unfair trade was made. The horselord straightened some, casting the eyes upon her, a solemn air was about him. ''Ya may sell 'em for a better deal outside. Why help us?'' 'twas asked low; though no less firm.
Wychtleth shrugged, "I know the feeling of being unwanted, trapped in a place I do not want to be in. But unlike you, I was born into a world. You've only just been welcomed to it. It's dark, full of ways to fail your own bravery and pride. Mustn't let that happen though. You're still a soft-hearted man. There are not many like you anymore."
Régnwald hardened his gaze at her first words ''Nay, I wasn't welcomed, like ya.'' he paused, pursing the lips chafed from the cold, the bearded chin jutted out, split by a faint, rueful smile before it faded like a dying star. ''Death claimed my mother the moment she gave birth to me.''
Wychtleth nodded, glancing at the others, "I suppose then. Dead mothers, mothers that disown their children... Life is cruel and unfair." She then looked at him, studying him with her blue eyes. She hummed as her thoughts remain in her head.
Régnwald gave a faint, silent nod, casting his eyes aside before they held the eyes of the maiden known in times as the witch. ''They say you see people's deaths. Have you seen this too?''
Wychtleth broke from her thoughts at his question. She chuckled some, "We are all doomed to die... But you, I do not think you are ready to yet. There's more in you than you give yourself to acknowledge. If you were to day today, would you be happy to? Nay, I say. I see a love in your eyes. Though dimmed and repressed, it is there. Therefore death would be foolish to take you now."
Régnwald casted his eyes down as the witch's words sunk in. Brooding over it, he lifted his chin to eye her a beat, struggling for mouth words, and he pursed his lips once more. Clutching at his side, fingers grasped nothing but empty space where Nægling's familiar, comforting hilt once rested. ''Wyrd oft saves an undoomed man when his courage is good... -- Yet I doubt he can see us here.' He casted his eyes about for a moment, before they were set on the woman.
Wychtleth shook her head, "Have you no more courage?"
Régnwald half closed his eyes ''I have.'' he replied, letting a crooked, rueful smirk crack in his scarred, bearded face ''Without my war-blade and byrnie.''
Wychtleth nodded, "And your followers? Faithful kinsmen that gave up their freedoms and name for you? What do you say of them?"
Régnwald lowered his gaze as the names passed before his hazel green eyes like memory. He gazed over the woman thereafter, mayhap with some light. ''We'll find a way.'' the man who was made wolf's-head, uttered his brief answer. Eyes, remaining sombre, he stood tall with his usual stoic-self.
Wychtleth nodded, "Good. Keep those pleasant thoughts."
Régnwald gave a silent nod in thanks both for the gift and her words, though he wouldn't speak of it. ''Can I ask a favour of you? The war-band shall have to know of things and plans made in the hall, and Witan.'' the man took pause, allowing a moment for himself to gather words, and thereafter his word-hoard was unlocked again ''Keep yourself aware of things. I doubt 'tis the end of our part. There might still be ill-purposed knots in this game.''
Wychtleth gave him a grin, "Ill-purposed knots are nothing new to me. If you want plans of the Reeve's of you, I will find a way to let you know of them."
''Not the Reeve... I doubt there's ill in his mind. A leader has to care his people, and ceorl were worried. So this would be the way anyhow.'' replied the man.
Wychtleth nodded, "I will just keep you informed of rumors and such news." She gave him a wink, "I have my way of finding these."
Régnwald gave a solemn nod. ''You shouldn't be seen here oft. We'll be released soon.'' it was spoken lowly. ''Now ya better leave.'' he casted his eyes to his boots clad in worn leather -- not the best choice for winter, biting the men's limb. ''..and guess I don't know your name.''
Wychtleth shrugged again, "It will not be the first village to chase me out of, nor will it be the last. Wychtleth is my name. Where I hail from, matters not."
Régnwald wouldn't ask of her stock, as she spoke. ''Well then.'' he bowed his head faintly ''Be careful, eh.''
Wychtleth nodded, "Aye. Do not let the darkness in your heart overburden you, Régnwald, Wulfesheãfod. There is more for you!" With the last of her words, she turned to leave.
Régnwald let a deep breath escape the confines of his mouth, staring dimly as she went.
