The sun was pale overhead and it weakly filtered through the canopy, leaving the forest floor cast in shadows. The air was cool; Dorothea could see her own breath coming in small clouds. It was a typical day in the woods on an autumn day.
Dorothea was crouched in the brush, her green eyes alert and focused on a small buck as it grazed. She willed her stomach not to growl, though it had been days since she'd had anything of sustenance to eat. This buck wasn't much, but it would last her just long enough to find more game.
The autumn day was cold and breezy. Though the cold weather bit at his skin and numbed his hands, but the season was still a favorite of Oliver's. The sun reached through the clouds and shone its light upon the earth below his feet, but it was too weak to burn his pale skin. The feathers of the arrows on his back were mostly white. He was careful not to step on anything that would make noise, and hid in the brush as he neared his target, a small buck. Ever so quietly, he rose his bow and drew back an arrow. Just as he was about to shoot, his foot snapped a twig and the buck alertly looked his way. He misfired and hit the near buck's flank. It started to bolt off, into the deep woods.
Dorothea swore loudly, not caring that the her voice echoed, and bolted towards the buck, brandishing her hunting knife. She dove at the deer, flailing and screeching wildly. She would get this deer, she would get her food, loosing herself to a moment of madness didn't matter. As she grabbed at the deer's neck with one hand and slashed with the hand that held the knife, Dorothea caught a glimpse of another hunter standing nearby; he'd scared the prey and if she didn't get this kill, she'd make sure to punish this idiot.
Oliver jumped a bit when a girl burst out of the trees and sprinted wildly after the deer, screaming. That was not the way to hunt! He shrunk back into the bushes as she slashed at the deer's throat. 'What a violent person,'he thought. He definitely didn't want to talk to her. He backed up slowly in the foliage, the earth-colored cloak he wore covering his wings and most of his body.
Dorothea laughed manically as the deer fell beneath her. She did not pause to see where the young man had wandered off to before began preparing the meat. Sitting atop the deer, all the way up to her elbows in blood, Dorothea's mood was improving by the minute. She loved anything red...
Oliver wasn't sure he wanted to have anything to do with this woman, but he decided he might as well apologize for what he had done. Even if the woman was...strange, he still felt he should respect her in this manner. He quietly exited the foliage, standing in a spot none to close to her but visible enough. "Excuse me...I'm sorry for scaring away the animal like that." As he watched her prepare the deer, he was almost disgusted by her delight in it.
She glanced at him sideways, not bothering to stop in her work. For a few minutes, Dorothea didn't say anything back. As she pulled the animal's heart from it's body and inspected it, she turned back towards Oliver. "Just because you-apologized doesn' mean I'll be givin' any of this to you." She did not say this harshly, but rather in a matter-of-fact way.
Oliver held his hands up in surrender. "No, no, that's not what I want. I'm wondering if there's anything I can do to fix my mistake...do you want an extra rabbit?" Part of the reason he was being so apologetic was because it was simply in his nature, and he was respectful to all people. Also, he didn't want to see this woman's bad nature become his end. She didn't seem very...friendly.
Dorothea's shoulders slumped a little, she lowered the heart back into the carcass, startled by his offer of a rabbit. She wouldn't pass up fresh game. "Yes'in," she said slowly, standing and wiping her bloody hand across her chin and mouth. "A rabbit would be nice..."
Oliver's stomach was grumbling, but his good nature got the best of him. He would get a rabbit for her. The woman had blood all over her, and it looked somewhat frightening. He wouldn't pass up a chance to get into the good graces of the woman and leave on a relatively nice note. With a nod he was off, and within a number of minutes that wasn't too long he returned with a rabbit. He held it over to her. "Here. I hope you enjoy it."
Dorothea snatched it and examined the kill. It was clean and he'd been quick about it, too. She glanced up at him, tilting her head curiously. "You're a good hunter... whats your name?"
(for some reason, the post duplicated- ignore this post)
Oliver watched her examine it with a bit of nervousness. He hoped that it was good enough for her. He wouldn't like to make her angry.
When she said it was good, he relaxed somewhat. His earth-colored cloak was hiding the wings on his back. He said, "My name's Oliver. Nice to meet you." He offered a polite smile.
"Dorothea." Dorothea gave a curt nod, turning back to her deer. As she sat back down atop the deer, she tossed the rabbit back to Oliver. "Clean and skin it," she instructed. "I'll finish taking care of the deer."
Well, perhaps this woman wasn't so bad. She didn't seem very mean, simply irritable. It made him relax. With a nod, he caught the rabbit and began to do as instructed. He was thankful to be a good hunter. It was such a useful skill. It kept him alive and well. Glancing over at Dorothea, he decided to try out a bit of conversation.
"Are you from around here?" Whilst talking to her, he didn't look up from the task he was asked to do, and continued to work diligently.
Dorothea did not answer right away, absorbed in the task at hand. After a few minutes ticked by, she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Not these parts, exactly," she said, shaking her head. "And yourself?"
"I usually find myself in Serendipity, so I'd say yes." He got a bit of blood on his cloak draped around his shoulders and frowned slightly. He took it off carefully, letting it drop to the ground. He didn't want it to get any more on it. His wings extended partway for a moment in a halfhearted stretch, then returned to their folded position on his back. "It's good hunting around here. That's also why I like it here."
Dorothea stopped in her work, her knife hovering in the air over the deer; her jaw dropped as she stared at his wings. She'd never seen something so glorious in her life. They were gorgeous! "You... you have wings!"
Oliver finished up his work just as she commented on his wings. He looked a bit surprised at her comment. To him, it was almost like a person remarking, 'You have hands!'. It always took him a moment to realize that other people don't have them. He nodded.
"Yes, I do. Here, I'll show you them."
On that note, he moved himself a bit to give him more room and extended his wings fully to show her them. There were no markings on them, and they weren't dirty at all, having been under the cloak for a while.
Dorothea stood in awe of the wings, gaping at him. They were gorgeous, beautiful things. Powerful, too. Oh, how she wished she'd had wings. She knew of others who had them, although, she did not see people with wings growing from their backs very often. It certainly was not something she was used to seeing.
"They're beautiful," she whispered, stepping closer.
Oliver let his wings relax slightly, but they were still extended. It was much like one extending their arms, as it didn't require too much effort.
"Thank you." He glanced at his wings thoughtfully.
"How is it possible you have these... are they a genetic factor of your parents?" she asked, softly. "Or did you gain them through magic?"
"I believe they are from magic." He glanced off into the forest for a moment, hearing a noise but realizing it to be a squirrel or something of that sort. "I've always had them, though. Ever since I was an infant."
Dorothea tilted her head, confused. "But you're not sure you were born with them?" It was very interesting to her that he did not know where he'd gotten his wings, but then again, one could not rely on family in this day in age.
Oliver ran a hand through his hair, his wings folding while he put on a thoughtful expression. "I never knew my mother and father, but my brother told me that I got them from magic. I guess it's best to trust him on that, but then again, I guess it doesn't matter anyway." He looked at her curiously. "Have you ever seen anyone else with wings?"
She shook her head. She wasn't very positive she had. Dorothea couldn't really remember. "Was your brother good to you?" although, as she asked, she realized her family had tried to be "good" to her as a child... and they'd failed miserably.
Oliver nodded earnestly. "Yes, he was a wonderful brother. However, I do not know where he is now. What a shame." He looked upwards at the drifting, lazy clouds, then back at her. "I'll go wash up...excuse me for a moment." He walked off without another word.
Oliver had been hunting near a stream, as that's where he supposed an animal would be around. He washed his hair, having accidentally gotten some blood on it, along with his face and his arms. The stream was clean and clear. He decided to wash his shirt as well. What a messy job preparing meat was sometimes. He slipped it off and dipped it into the stream, attempting to wash it off the best he could, then hung it on a tree to dry. Sitting down next to the stream, he dipped his feet into the water. The wings on his back were folded and clean.
She gave him a nod as he walked away, not wanting or seeing a need to say anything else. Dorothea finished cleaning the deer and packing it's meat in her sack, leaving out just a small sliver she intended to prepare for her supper.
Oliver returned after a little while. He still was holding his shirt in his hands, as it was not warm enough to have it dry so quickly, yet it was still warm. His hair was still wet. He was concentrated on drying it as he walked up to the small clearing where Dorthea was. "Thank you for having me as company for a short time..." He turned around for a moment, rummaging through a pack of things he carried with him, and turned back around. He held a feather in his hand, one of his. He held it out to her. It was a rather long feather. He offered a friendly smile to her.
"Would you like this feather? You said you liked my wings, so I figure you might want this."
Dorothea paused in her work, startled by the offering of a small gift. She couldn't remember a time she'd ever been a gift. Her eyes widened excitedly and she snatched the feather away. It was beautiful, silky and perfect. As she rolled the nib gently in between her fingers, the pale light of the day gleamed and shone in the silky strands of the feather. She smiled at it, as if she had found something exceptionally perfect.
She reached back behind her head, tying the feather into her braid. She then nodded to Oliver- that was as best as a thank you Dorothea was able to muster.
Oliver was pleased to see that she liked it enough to look at it in such a way and tuck it away into her hair. It looked nice in her braid. A close-mouthed smile still remained on his lips. He nodded back to her, in an acknowledgement of her thanks.
Suddenly, without any sort of warning, a winged figure flew into the small clearing fast, barely slowing down enough to land properly. He touched down next to Oliver, his large black wings spread fully for a moment, then folded within the next second. He stood, turning around to face Dorthea. He looked like the exact opposite of Oliver in some aspects, having black hair and wings and a serious expression rather than Oliver's friendly features. He had electric blue eyes that were almost unreal, and they provided a forceful stare, full of questions. He extended his wings partly again as he stared right at her. Oliver looked like the kind angel while the other one looked like an avenging angel.
Oliver, at this point, looked quite confused and a bit startled. "Tristan, is that you?" He only got a short nod from the man next to him.
Dorothea was immediately drawn to the darker winged man. His fierceness, his strength, his demeanor. Everything about him called to her. "Tristan," she breathed, stepping forward.
Oliver stood in the background as Tristan pushed him back gently with his hand. His eyes were always kept on Dorthea, with a hint of caution in them. He had little to no idea who this woman was, or why she was talking to his brother. Some parts of the deer around her indicated to him that she had been hunting. Perhaps they were hunting together. At least there wasn't a conflict occurring. He glanced at Oliver and mumbled at him to put his shirt on. Oliver complied. There was a short silence before he spoke.
"Who are you?"
Oliver knew better than to interject into his speech. That didn't end well, usually.
Dorothea's gaze never left Tristan's. It became immediately clear that he did not trust her. There was a hint of uneasiness in the air. She did not fear the winged men, but Dorothea did not wish for this to end badly. She inhaled deeply before answering. "Dorothea. You?"
Tristan nodded, his face devoid of any signs of what he was thinking. He replied, "I am Tristan. A pleasure to meet you." There was a short silence before he spoke again. "What business do you have with my brother?" He folded his wings to his back now, a small sign of trust, but remained standing with his gaze fixed on Dorthea. Oliver shifted from foot to foot, a million questions for his brother unanswered.
"None," she said coolly, her gaze cold and calculating. "I was hunting and he nearly scared my game away, but he has since made up for his mistake. Why are you here?"
Tristan nodded, his gaze becoming less cautious, but still distant. "I was just coming to have a chat with him. I suppose, if you have no more business with him, I could collect him and we could leave you in peace. Is this what you want?"
It was not. She wanted not to loose these two winged men before she had a chance to at least gain some of their strength. Dorothea searched for strength, and when she could, she took it. Not wanting to scare them off, though, afraid of loosing them, she made her face fall. "But..." she bowed her head, "I'm all alone."
Tristan glanced briefly back at Oliver, who was clearly appearing sympathetic. Tristan turned his eyes back to Dorthea. She didn't seem terribly dangerous to him. And, if she was, they could always just fly away if need be.
"Would you like us to stay a bit longer?"
Dorothea nodded, biting her lip hopefully. She hoped she was playing an innocent, lonely girl believably. "Yes, please," she said, softly.
Oliver was a bit confused, though he didn't say anything. The girl wasn't like this before. She seemed independent enough. However, he didn't say anything, and as always he assumed she had good intentions.
Though, Tristan wasn't particularly moved by her performance. He disliked the notion of hanging around a person he didn't know any longer than he had to, but he figured that it was for the best. He sat down under a tree next to him, and Oliver continued to stand. Tristan looked off into the forest, wishing more to talk to his brother than be around her. Oliver smiled. "Alright, we'll stay."
Dorothea grinned. "I have this deer," she said, kneeling down beside her pack. "We can share the meat and get to know each other."
Oliver seemed to brighten up a bit more at the mention of food.
"Okay."
He never had gotten any meat because of the previous situation. He kneeled down near where she was, giving her space but preparing to eat. He shifted his position somewhat to sit more comfortably. His shirt was drying off now, which pleased him.
Meanwhile, Tristan got up and walked a short distance over to them and sat across from the two. He sat with his legs crossed. Even though he wasn't sure about how much he liked the situation, he wouldn't pass up a bite to eat, especially when he would have had to catch some himself.
Dorothea built a fire, trying very hard to conceal the fact that she most certainly did not want to share her kill. But, she had to play nice to keep these two from leaving. She needed their wings...
She placed a few slabs of meat into the flames, just letting them burn on the outside.
Oliver waited happily for the meal he was going to receive, while Tristan was being forever unenthusiastic. In a few moments, he got up and walked off without a word. Oliver looked at Dorthea. "Don't mind him, he's probably just going for a walk."
Dorothea shrugged, showing she did not care, and pulled a piece of the burnt meat from the fire and handed it to Oliver. "It's hot, but it's best that way. Fills you faster."
Oliver made a small, startled noise as he was given the hot meat. It was, indeed, hot. He tossed it gently between his hands for a few moments before beginning to eat it. "Thank you" he said, eating slowly.
Meanwhile, Tristan returned in a bit. He had gotten his own things to eat in the meantime. He wasn't hungry. He sat next to the fire, across from them again. "So...how long do you want us to hang around here? We haven't all eternity." He didn't sound particularly cold, but rather apathetic.
Dorothea lifted an eye brow as she ate her own slice of burnt meat. "What is your hurry to leave?" she asked, softly.
Tristan tossed her a defiant look. "Well, tell me; what reason do we have to stay longer than a little while?"
"I can't give you a reason," she said softly, "other than you would be easing the loneliness I suffer."
"We don't even know you. Why should we be so sensitive to your problems when we have plenty of our own?" He proceeded to look at her skeptically.
"Hm... very true," she nodded, turning back to get another slice of meat. "I did not hold a sword to your throat and demand you stay. I would like if you did, though."
"We'll stay for a little while longer, then we'll take our leave." Tristan looked off to the side. "What do you want to talk about?"
Oliver, meanwhile, was busy munching slowly at the meat he was given.
"There is not much to speak about..." she mused, her mouth full of food. "Where exactly are the two of you heading?"
Tristan paused for a moment, having to think about the question momentarily. "Cerenis," he lied. He was planning on going to Arca with Oliver, once they had met up, but he didn't want this woman to know anything more than what she had to. After all, simple conversation wasn't meant to be particularly fruitful. "And you?"
Oliver offered Tristan the rest of his meat, now only a scrap, and Tristan shook his head. Oliver ate it quickly, now simply listening, having nothing to say and giving his brother the stage.
"Anywhere that I can find power," she murmured, almost a whisper. She took her last bite and chewed it, staring off into space.
Tristan gave her a strange look and looked at his brother. Oliver looked back questioningly. Tristan moved over to him. Oliver asked him very quietly, "What's she talking about?" Tristan shook his head, and shrugged. They began to chat to each other quietly, as if she wasn't there.