Monsters Inside [Archive]

[DragonSong]

"I've worked in groups." She sipped her own tea. "Not often, though. I find I don't care for it- no offense."

She allowed her legs to fold to the side and her tail to flick out slightly from under the edge of her cloak. "It's not as though I have much to pack," she noted dryly, indicating what she'd brought with a wave of her hand. "I'm ready to leave."

She paused a moment, then added, "Traveling in darkness is good for me. I tend to...draw less attention."

[Magyar]

Bolion picked up the tied sheets that were his bedroll, and plucked the incense out of the bowl one by one. He then took the bowl and slid it into a bag he had on his waist while he did the same for the incense with a long pouch, custom made for the sticks.

He then doused the candle and made to get up, but beforehand he did, he glanced at Della and said, rather tentatively, "Why do you hide yourself? It's not like there's any lack of strangeness here, especially here. You fit in... ish."

[DragonSong]

Della laughed. It wasn't necessarily a pleasant sound. She drew her hood back to show her horns, pale blue skin highlighted now by only the thin streams of moonlight. Her lips curved back to show a flash of fangs.

"True enough," she said with a shrug. "Still, I find a well placed hood and some gloves can usually preemptively head off any questions I'd rather not answer." Or that she couldn't answer, honestly.

She stood and shouldered her pack, slinging her bow over her back. "Shall we?" she murmured, waving to the entrance of the tent.

[Magyar]

Bol glanced at the horns that lay just above her hair, and caught the flash of her teeth.

"I've got some of those too, y'know." He said, pulling his bottom lip down to show his oversized canines. "They're not much good for anything, except maybe opening letters."

He stepped through the canvas flap, and felt the cool night air bathe his skin, which prickled with goose flesh at the chill. Mountains did have nice nights, he'd give them that. Holding the flap open, he looked back in on the raven haired woman. She was younger than he, he guessed by about ten years or so. She was new, for he had never seen any of her kind, and that perturbed him. Newness was odd in his line of work, at least after having done it for as long as he. This was an experience he would not soon forget.

[DragonSong]

[Her hair is black, actually ;)]

She got to her feet and followed him out slowly. "I find mine to be useful in a fight," she said with a shrug as she drew her hood back up. Her eyes flickered from Bolion to their surroundings.

"You're familiar with Essyrn, right? I'll admit I've never been there." Her fingers drummed against her leg.

[Magyar]

"Oh, yes. Essyrn I live and breathe, although the dust doesn't really help with that." He gestured to follow him, and walked out of the congested camp. "I travelled here with thirty traders, and nine other bodyguards. It was mostly a deterrent, knowing these traders. Good ties with the slave traffickers, who own the bandits who kidnap passerby on the roads these traders use."

Bolion sauntered rather than walked in the direction of the stables, and began to smirk as he spoke, "Little do they know, that their head-captain, a bastard of a man, will fall ill with incurable disease over the course of a week." His smile was wide and giddy now, "I poisoned his food every day for a month. Heavy metals and deadly herbs, all slow acting. He'll be dead for sure, but it'll seem all natural until they autopsy him."

[Sorry, I fixed it.]

[DragonSong]

[Np!]

Her eyebrows traveled steadily upward as he spoke. "That's...industrious," she noted wryly. "I take it from that, and your conversation with Solaria, that you aren't very fond of slavers?" She picked her way delicately along behind him as they walked, moving with the easy grace of a large cat.

[Magyar]

"Lived as the property of one for many, many years. I hated him, so much." Bitterness crept into Bolion's voice, replacing the mirth he had carried with him most of the day. He walked over to the stable doors, and pushed them open slowly. The smell of horse and hay was thick, but not unwelcome. It beat alcohol any day. "Do you ride?" He inquired, turning his head just enough to see Della behind him.

[DragonSong]

"Hmm." Della had never had much interaction with slavery herself- it just wasn't a part of her life. But she was certainly no sympathetic to slavers: people weren't property.

A very small smile twitched at her lips as she slipped into the stable. "I do. I love horses," she answered honestly, approaching the nearest animal and dipping her head to blow gently into his nose in greeting. The horse bobbed his head and huffed back at her, making her smile widen.

[Magyar]

"She smiles?" He remarked sarcastically. He was just unlatching the gate to a bay stallion. "Come make yourself friendly. We'll be riding together, unless you'd prefer otherwise, in which I'll need to... procure another one." At this, he paused. "Do you have your own?"

[DragonSong]

She screwed her face up and rolled her eyes at him. Yes, she smiled. She wasn't completely emotionless.

"I had to sell my last horse a while back," she said with a shrug as she approached the bay. "Probably for the best. Sweet little thing, not made for my line of work." She greeted the stallion with a soft exchange of breath and stroked his neck gently.

"I wouldn't mind finding another mount on our way, if we can," she added. "Neither of us is exactly small. Don't want to force the poor lad to carry us both." She clucked at the horse and smiled again when he bobbed his head and nosed her chest, looking for treats.

[Magyar]

"Again, we could procure... one. Or we could leave town and hit a few bandit stops hoping to get lucky." He muttered the last half of the sentence to himself more than he did to Della. Tightening the last straps on Orrin's saddle, he stepped up and mounted the patiently waiting horse. Orrin snorted as Bolion turned awkwardly in the saddle and fastened his bedroll to the back end of the saddle. Riding out of the stable at a walk, he sidled up to Della, and extended a hand.

"Let's get the hell out of here." He said with dawning enthusiam, and the all familiar smile returned to his face.

[DragonSong]

Della frowned. "I'd rather not steal from innocents, if it's possible," she murmured with a sigh. Glancing at the offered hand, she cautiously took it and swung up onto the horse behind him gracefully.

Her tail twitched as she settled herself and she huffed, a little awkwardly putting her arms around his waist. There really wasn't much opportunity for personal space. "Alright. Just don't push him too hard, yeah? Not like Solaria gave us a deadline."

[Magyar]

"He'll be fine. We're not going too far tonight anyway." Bolion spoke rather distractedly as he maneuvered the horse out of the half open doorway. "There's a spot I use regularly when riding with caravans up north. It's maybe ten miles south of here, so we'll ride by night and sleep by day starting tomorrow."

At this they had reached the main road for this part of Zantaric, and Orrin transitioned into a brisk trot. Down the hill and out of the town they rode, the moon lighting the night and the stars guiding them through it.

After about fifteen minutes of silence, Bolion spoke up, "You don't have to hold on if you don't want to you know. There's a handle on the back of the saddle for just such a reason, if you're uncomfortable." He would've remained quiet for a while longer, but the tension in her body was as discomforting to him as riding two in the saddle must have been for her. Until they got a second horse, this was the arrangement, for better or for worse.

[DragonSong]

Della snorted. "Not sure I trust that idea," she muttered wryly. "I'm just...not used to not being the one in control of the horse."

It wasn't bad necessarily, just unsettling. She huffed a breath and tried to relax a bit more.

[Magyar]

"Well you can steer him tomorrow then." Bolion replied, "it'll do me some good to catch a nap or two while we ride."

After a time, the scenery began to change as they left the foot of the mountains. The peaks that had graced their horizon for the descent from Zantaric gave way to flatlands, with tall grasses and a colour pallette much browner and air much dryer. "Feels like home, almost," Bolion whispered to himself, and turned Orrin off the path they had been following. The sun was just peaking over the edge of the grass, and dawn had arrived. Nighty, Night Bolion thought to himself.

Orrin waded through the dry grass, stalks snapping as he forged his way towards a small hut hidden by an oak grove. "Here we are... pit stop." Bolion muttered To Della, "Make yourself cozy."

[DragonSong]

"Cozy?" She arched an eyebrow as she dismounted and moved to Orrin's head. "Good boy," she murmured to the horse, patting his neck and letting him lip her hair. "Yes, you're a fine lad," she chuckled quietly.

She stepped away to start making camp, building a small fire and lighting the wood with a pointed zap of lightning from her fingertips.

[Magyar]

"Yes, cozy. It's an adjective; it means to be warm or comfortable. Relaxed. Surely you know how to do that?" Bolion droned on, the sarcasm dripping from his voice. He began to unpack his bedroll, and slung his one saddlebag off of Orrin before leaving the horse to Della's affections.

"I'm Bolion, by the way," he piped up, turning back to Della, "I don't think I introduced myself, so, sorry about that. My friends call me Bol."

[DragonSong]

Della scoffed and tossed her hair, grumbling under her breath. "Yes, I remember. You told Solaria."

She set out her own bedroll and hunted through her pack for provisions. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Unless you have a surplus of food, I'll have to hunt food."

[Magyar]

Bolion paused, "No I didn't." He said, suspicion creeping into his voice. "I definitely did not. And as for food, go right ahead. We'll not be in market for some time." 

He then proceeded to lay out his bedroll near the fire pit, and place his incense bowl near the head of the pillow. He lay down on his makeshift bedding, and stared upwards, watching the sky through the oaken canopy.