Zharith, I see another human! A village must be near. C'mon, pick up your pace, boy. You can't tell me you're still woozy! She'll get up and leave by the time you get here.
Zharith glared up through the trees where he assumed Raki to beâ€"well, somewhere up there and ahead of him, at leastâ€"and trudged on, purposely ignoring her comments. Yes. He was still woozy. But she knew he didn't do large bodies of water! Of course, when he'd moaned that to Raki between trips to the railing of the ship's deck, the raven had found it hilarious. She found the whole thing amusing. And, well, when he thought about it, in retrospect, it was. Kind of. After all, he was an islander. He was born and raised on a bloody island chain! But he'd only been on smaller boats before, and he had chosen to live inland, in the city of Thanatos. Though he lived on an island, he was a "land-lubber" through and through, and he rather liked it that way!
The trip over to the mainland on that ship had been pure and utter hell, and he was still reeling from the effects of it. Not to mention that he just couldn't help but feel uncomfortable suspended above so much water. Water for miles...and miles...an endless space of nothing...
Raki said it was because he'd drowned before, or had almost drowned. Even she couldn't keep up with his past incarnations. And though Zharith had long since stopped fearing death and viewed it more as an annoyance than anything, he really didn't fancy the idea of drowning. It wasn't the concept of death that was disturbing, but the method, and he apparently had a history of going in unorthodox ways.
He jumped suddenly as Raki plummeted from the trees to land on his shoulder, curved nails curling into the fabric of his traveling cloak. She's right straight ahead, sitting beneath a tree. You can ask her for directions. I would look ahead instead so we wouldn't have to stop, but I heard a hawk calling off somewhere. Her feathers ruffled indignantly. Not that I couldn't take it. But I just preened myself. That's all.
"Of course..."
And no talking to me. You don't know how these people are. They'd likely think you mad if they caught you talking to a raven, you know. They wouldn't be far off, but...ah ah! No comments, child! I'm you're 'pet', now, only this once. And don't you dare abuse that, or I will crack your skull with my beak.
Zharith winced slightly. She would, too. She'd done it before.
Go on, now.
Unlike the other villagers the woman had endured, Zharith was not at all alarmed by the strange garb of the woman he came across, but then, considering where he came from and his own background, there weren't a lot of things that could really be considered strange to the Summoner. And besides, he wasn't so ordinary, himself, with long natural feather-laced black hair, fair skin, and amber eyes that oddly matched the eyes of the raven on his shoulder. He paused a few feet away from her, looking her over uncertainly. Was she...asleep?
He cleared his throat. Speaking with others was never really something he did much of, no matter how small and frivilous the chat. "Pardon...ah...do you know the way to the nearest village?" he asked a bit awkwardly, shifting the bag of belongings on his shoulder out of habit. He hadn't brought much with him, only some money he hoped would be accepted or at least exchanged for the currency here and a few books and items of clothing. Just what he'd need to get a start here.
