The gray figure stalked out of the woods with steps resembling that of an animal, predator of the wilds; stiffening to a short breath, his eyes glowed in desperation at the same time sickness, his hands arose “Do not move, do not yell.” His voice seemed raspy as if he had lost his voice. -Mayhap of late he hasn't spoken a word to any person aside from trees and wild animals of the lands. Thus the young man took that very small moment to study the woman. "I won't hurt you." The words were spared in hard, broken accent of the rugged Eorling.
The unexpected voice left the woman looking up from her basket. She looked around for the source, forming a smirk upon her face. Her hood and heavier clothes were brown and green, but worn from constant wear. "Even if you did, I would call it a blessing." She spoke, unnerved from the voice's warning.
The man sounded confused. Lowering his bow, he advanced forth with long, firm strides. The hair was long, straw in hue and tangled as the shrugs he often found himself clambering through. His clothes were a tattered mess of skins and bear hides, stitched together with as much skill as he could manage on his own. His boots and vest were packed with dried grasses, but despite this he shivered, the snow drenching everything. His long bow of ash-wood and its meagre supply of arrows were bundled together in a leather sheath, which he hoped kept them dry.
The man hesitated to talk for a moment "...Blessing?" It was clear from the Eorling's stony face he did not entirely approve of it. He held his breath then let it out in an audible gust of relief. Now he swerved a curious look out of pale, winter blue eyes to her. "Good that you're not afraid, for the last one mistook me a raider and grabbed a broom." A smile flickered across his features, casting his eyes about himself.
The woman laughed as she pulled her hood down. Her bright red hair rose, free from the bounds of the hood. "I have seen and felt worse than being mugged from raiders."
She studies him fully, though her smirk stays, "And though I've no broom, you might meet my basket if you do not give me your name, stranger."
[
He only nodded and his hair obscured his eyes. Then a sharp wind came up, blowing his hair out of his face and allowing a glimpse into sharp blue eyes emphasized by high cheekbones. The man known as Eardstapa removed his hood. His blond flowing hair fell, wet and greasy as if he had that hood on for much too long a time. He removed a glove and rubbed his tired eyes. “Eardstapa." The answer was given, head lowered "Now you have it. How about we have this conversation over something as breakfast?” Hints of relaxation could be drawn by the young Eorling's late manners, moving aside his gaze.
The woman eyes the man, suspecting underlying ideas to his suggestion of breakfast. She looks around as if waiting for someone else to join them, but she too would relax moments later. "I have nothing to provide, unless you want mushrooms for breakfast. And these are not the kinds for filling bellies."
"For blowing the wide belted men's bellies up in blood more like?" Now a bright, almost a boyish smile escaped him, betraying his messy figure with unkempt, greasy beard making him older than he actually his. He went about the mundane tasks of building a fire and cooking in dexterous, efficient silence, subtly studying her face which might have caught his vague and primal interests, from time to time. "Horses smell the evil lurking in these woods. The orcs come and go along those routes, and they’d slit your throat if they caught you, that I'm certain of." His bruises and cuts from his last encounter with the dark-haired mountain orc had yet to heal properly.
"Again, I am not afraid of death, be it by poisonous mushrooms or orcs." She took a spot on the other side of the fire. She hums a short song before speaking again, "You, on the other hand, look like your horse dragged you."
He chuckled for a brief, casting his eyes about himself "Twas more like I had to drag my horse... Became an orc dinner." He gulped and withstood her gaze. He looked down, gave a sad smile and grabbed his other horn of ale, quickly sipping it down, masking the terrible memory he had of the battle. He finished about half. He gave a satisfied breath as if he had missed his drink. “Take a sip. I guarantee it is as smooth as a good woman's skin.'' The man dared to eye her mayhap with some meaning lying under words he spake; albeit he uttered naught till she spoke.
She takes the horn, drinking from it before commenting, "I have always disliked horses, and your ale is good. As for saying it is smooth as a woman, I have nothing to compare that." The horn is held out for him as she searches her own belts for something. A small pouch is pulled from her belt as she opens it and holds a plain colored mushroom in her hand.
The man spoke as he reached out for the horn "Deep woods are favored dwelling places for doomed men. But you?" A crooked-smile ghosted his features, seeking reason. And soon his gaze landed on the mushroom she took out from her pouch, watching her a beat as he enjoyed the ale.
"An unwanted woman taking up her hobby of searching woods for plants I deem needed." She then placed the mushroom in her mouth, chewing it slowly. Her attention would then move to the fire, taking in its warmth.
He watched her, narrowing his eyes in joy that could be seen by the onlooker "You know I can't think of anything that can make you unwanted. It's the mushrooms?" He held her gaze to be confirmed, chewing the meat.
She chuckles loudly in response, "Nay, it is not always the mushrooms. I move on from towns because most do not like having a witch in town."
He leaned on his back slightly, now the fire giving some more light in his face, a joyful smirk cracked, staring at her "A witch, are you of Elvish folk?" He asked mockingly, smiling faintly at her "Well, to live or happiness... it isn't everything."
"Happiness is overrated, I fine. It is snatched away faster than anything else and no one can seem to define what it is." She spoke, focusing on the fire again. Her hood is quickly pulled over her head again as her left hand lingers close to the fire. She would almost play with it, letting the flame lick her hand.
Giving a silent nod, the man kept watching her, from his face it could be read he can't disagree. As the moment passed, with a boyish smile, he came close to her, only thing was the fire between them, bordering. "I believe not in happiness, but in thrill and passion. If you can tell me where that is, take me there." His speech was accompanied by a gentle rain, he looked up "Snow and rain at once. A bad omen." He smiled as he eyed her, looking as if waiting for her to lift all her defensive instincts and come to him. Though 'twas only a mystery to all but him.
She only shrugs, holding out her hand to gather what falls, "I enjoy the rain and snow. Rain brings sweet smells in spring. Snow brings silence, allowing me to enjoy my thoughts.''
Leaning backward, he gave no response apart from the same deep smile he kept for a while. He took a gulp then.
She finally looks over at him before bluntly stating, "If you are looking for company for the night, then you have picked the wrong place for it. Forlaw is not far from here though and I can manage to find a place."
He replies "It will be my next destination, and I know of the company business there." An arm rests on top of his knee as he lies. "Have to walk with this body there, it's long. I don't like waiting that much." His eyes matched her gaze, with a bright smile. "And I'm seeking your company, if not to be rude."
She nods, looking up at the sky, "Fair enough. It is expected."
He also looks up at the sky "I think so." He exhales a gust of wind.
She holds her hands out before her, warming them again, "When you are ready then.''
He narrows his eyes in some confusion at the response "That easy?" He thinks aloud, pursing his lips chafed from the cold.
She nods again, eyeing him, "Aye. I am not new to being used from men to fulfill their needs."
He frowns some then, though feeling restless for her responses so bluntly made. "Then I have to surprise you at this matter, lass." He straightened, unclasping the heavy cloak of wolf-fur around his shoulders and giving it to her, only to lie for a rest beside her. "I won't use you for my needs. It's cold, and the earlier we sleep, the earlier we'll get to Forlaw." With his last sentence, he drew himself close and used the cloak to rest upon her.
She looks at him with confusion as the cloak is wrapped around her. The puzzlement leaves her in silence as she mulls over the rejection.
"Why the sudden change?"
He shrugs at the question while lying happily under the cloak half covering his body. "Hrm, I don't see passion in that. See I'll have to seduce you the next time. Resting is for it too." He smiled. "...I can't seduce even a bear when half drunk in the late afternoon, and in this cold biting the limbs around my arse."
She laughs at his comment, "Perhaps if I were any other lass, your words would work."
He nods with a cough escaping him "Yea, boosting yourself, ah? An unwanted witch or not, you're still a woman." He shook his head.
She hums, trying not to laugh, again, at his words, "You are being kind, Master Eardstapa."
He smiles in somewhat pride "Yes. Being raised as an errand rider in the royal hall." He threw her a teasing glance in the cold "Looks like we both have licked the wrong arses." He smiled up at her "Mine is out of duty, and yours... I don't know that."
"Mine is being born, I suppose. But my story does not matter." She holds a hand up, as if reaching for take the night sky, "Errand rider, for which Thane?"
He smiled meaningfully "My past can be as wicked as yours, best to not turn the old pages." He finally seated himself under the cloak, looking up at her "Will you join me?"
With smirk, she joins him under his cloak.
