The Green and The Green (Dragonsong!) [m]

[DaGlobster]

"Of course I mean it," Motark said, putting a hand on his chest to put on a little mock offense. He took thr flask from her, noting just how much of it they'd gone through with a slight rise of his eyebrows before he drank.

"I'm done with this, you can keep having it if you want," he said as he put his hands behind his head, arcing his back for a bit as he stretched.

"So much of you is so different from Orcs. You have actual fur" he said, letting himself smile a bit wider.

"It makes you look soft, but I know you're not..."

[DragonSong]

"And now how do you know that?" Fiala demanded as she took the flask back and threw back a large gulp. She swayed slightly, narrowing her eyes as she tried to bring the surrounding trees back into focus. The taste of honey hung thick on her tongue, its sweetness invaded her senses.

"And how do I know that you mean what you say?" she asked suddenly, pointing a finger at his nose and frowning. "I may spend my whole life studying the subtle arts of deceptions and half-truths, but you, you, you tiny mortal thing, you could just..." She waved her arms expressively, then sat back with a sudden pout. "Just sit there and say things that aren't true! It's maddening!"

With a huff, she added almost petulantly, "And my fur is very soft. And you know that is truth!"

[DaGlobster]

"Just because I could lie about something doesn't mean I'm going to. And why would I lie about your horns being impressive?" Motark shrugged, now it was his turn to wave a finger at her.

"The way you carry yourself, the way you jumped down from that high branch like it was nothing, I know you're stronger than you let on," he continued, and just buzzed enough he extended a hand to run a finger against the soft fur of her leg.

"Really soft..." he commented.

[DragonSong]

It was; though she was clearly a grown creature, the fur on her legs had the almost baby-down softness of a day-old fawn, even speckled with white flecks toward her hips, as her face was.

"I told you." She looked proud of herself for moment, then her face fell again and she slumped back against the log. "But that's just the thing, isn't it? I must be stronger, faster, cleverer than I seem. Because I could not look an enemy in the face and tell him an untruth, I must make him underestimate me and hope it is enough, that my bluff will not be called."

Yeah, she definitely shouldn't be saying these things. But with the honey of that orcish brew still thick on her tongue she couldn't seem to stop herself.

[DaGlobster]

Oh.

Motark's face fell a little at her words, and he shifted a bit closer, joining his hands on his. Ever since he first laid eyes on her, he just automatically assumed that beneath the soft fur and light voice was sharp teeth and claws that could tear.

He idly felt the fur as her words sat, and he looked down at her. It was one of the softest things he'd ever felt...

"You could learn how to use a bow, or... a spear?" he offered.

"I know those don't seem like natural weapons, but it'll add to your bluff," he added, unsure of his suggestion.

"Many lose their nerve when they face down a spear..."

[DragonSong]

Fiala huffed and suddenly got to her feet, throwing her arms wide. This had the unintended effect of tossing her hair back to tumble around her shoulders and leaving her breasts bare. She didn't seem to care much.

"I'm not entirely defenseless," she exclaimed to no one in particular. Perhaps the stars, that's what she was glaring at.

But just as quickly as she'd risen she seemed to deflate again, collapsing back down onto her knees, then her rear, swinging her legs around so she could draw her knees up to rest her chin on them. "Perhaps," she finally admitted quietly, eyes fixed on the fire.

Her head was fuzzy. She felt hot. Was she too close to the flames? No. No, she actually liked the warmth. Why was this so difficult to sort out so suddenly?

[DaGlobster]

"I'm not saying you are," he said, giving her a few moments of silence after her outburst. He sat up and crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knees. He was starting to realize that she really couldn't keep anything to herself. One of the druids had said that fairies never told lies, but spoke in riddles...

"But... There is a lot of swiftness within you. Your eyes are sharp and I've seen you move through these woods with much greater ease than me. I have seen warriors made from much less," he said.

"You should visit my people. I could make sure you're welcome."

[DragonSong]

Fiala blinked at him for a moment in silence. “You could,” she repated quietly, almost as though the words were a foreign tongue she was attempting to decipher.

“Would you?” The question was earnest. As she had said, a faerie could not lie, so they relied on the complexity of language to weave deception. Even in her evidently intoxicated state, she had enough presence of mind to challenge his use of words, wanting to know if what he intended was in fact what he said.

[DaGlobster]

"If you wanted to visit, the approval of the chief is very important, so of course I would do that for you," Motark said, placing a hand on his chest.

"That's the honest trutth, Fiala," he added.

He laid back against the log and motioned to himself.

"But I've told you plenty about myself and my people. Can I ask you where you are from?"

[DragonSong]

"Far from here," she sighed, letting her head tip back until her antlers brushed against the log behind her. "And yet not so very far at all."

She drummed her fingers against the earth, eyes sliding to half closed as she peered up at the stars through the canopy. "It is always moonlit," she murmured. "Time stands still. Or perhaps it happens all at once, I'm not sure. I've never asked."

[DaGlobster]

"That sounds... magical," Motark said.

He followed her gaze to the stars, and then joined his hands on his stomach.

"And you have friends there? Family?"

[DragonSong]

Fiala laughed, nodding in agreement. "Magical."

At his question, she turned her head and narrowed her eyes at him, trying to focus passed the strange blurriness at the edges of her vision.

"Yes, I--"

Her voice choked off and her eyes went wide. That wasn't a lie. She had Lakali. Why couldn't she say it?

"I--"

Again she couldn't speak. Growling in frustration, she suddenly sat up and snapped at no one in particular, "I think so! Is that enough?!"

[DaGlobster]

He watched as she seemingly had the words stolen from her mouth time and time again. When she finally spoke, he nodded

"That's enough," he said, and he sat up with her, and then after a few moments of looking around, trying to spot who she was talking to, he spoke up again.

"But thinking that you have friends isn't a substitute, so... we can be friends," Motark said simply, smiling at her as he laid back.

"So the next time someone asks you, you can say a definite yes," he said. His head was swimming in brew, causing the kindness he usually hid under his gruff exterior to come out. Not that he was worried about showing his gentler side to Fiala, of course...

[DragonSong]

"Oh." She blinked at him, then slowly, cautiously laid back beside him again. "Thank...you."

The words were strange on her tongue, not often used. She wasn't accustomed to not doing everything herself, she didn't often need to thank people.

[DaGlobster]

"You're welcome," he said, turning his head so he could look at her again.

He fell silent, sort of studying all of what made her different as his eyes scanned her. The way she had those dots on her skin, even where the fur didn't cover. The structure of her legs, the way her sole piece of clothing covered her...

He flushed, but couldn't stop studying her. He found her utterly spellbinding, not in the sense of traditional attraction, but she just had this enchanting air about her that seemed to draw him in.

"You said your home was close, yet far away," he said, looking to keep talking.

"How is that possible?"

[DragonSong]

Fiala shrugged, her eyes falling closed even as she felt his gaze roaming over her. She wasn't particularly perturbed by it, though a distant part of her brain wondered at it idly.

"It is..." She frowned, trying to think of how to explain it, if she even could, if she should. "It simply is," she sighed after a moment. "If you follow the right path, you could find in from here in a matter of minutes. But take a wrong turn, and you could wander these woods for days without ever catching a glimpse of it."

[DaGlobster]

"So, it's not a place, then?" Motark wondered, looking back out into the fire.

"At least, not a place like we are in now, but... That's interesting," Motark said, smiling at the fantastical implications.

"And it sounds so pretty..."

[DragonSong]

"It's beautiful." She sighed softly and closed her eyes. "Beautiful, and eternal. And...well, boring."

She huffed out another breath, crooking one leg up, dragging her hoof through the soft soil as she did. "I suppose I must return eventually," she mused. "But there is so much of the world to see. What else does one do with immortality?"

[DaGlobster]

Immortality?

Motark's eyes widened a bit at that, but he chuckled. He gave her knee a pat.

"There's lots of world out there to see. I hear that to the south of my village, the lands turn to sand and wind if you go far enough," he said.

"And we've sent scouts as far east as they could go, and they came back telling stories of a gigantic lake that stretches on as far as the eye can see," he continued.

He looked to her.

"If I was immortal, I'd never stay in the same place two days in a row."

[DragonSong]

Fiala smiled, a little wistful. "Perhaps one day I will see such things," she murmured quietly.

She turned to curl onto her side, one leg still drawn up slightly and the other extending out toward the fire. "Does it bother you?" she asked abruptly. "Mortality?"