Day to Day, Drink by Drink

[Anonymous]

The exchange of words, the lust in the air, everything struck at Brand's senses, each in turn, as Kieli's fangs and claws brandished. Mostly unnoticeably, he prepared to defend himself, though the swipings -- as a claw -- in the air seemed to indicate that danger loomed. Amaie's softness overcame, however, and for the moment, it seemed it would be milk rather than blood. Brandir eased off his defense, and drew out a second glass, dripping milk into it steadily, and placing it on the table. Better white than red, as it were.

All that water seemed to have taken effect; he needed to take a leak really friggin' bad at this point. Ehh. At least, if a fight did break out, he woudn't be drunk. ... he'd just be bloated and piss himself. Hm. Upon second thought, Brandir noted, perhaps the whole mass watering wasn't such a great idea. Eh. Whatever. His telekinesis fished out a loaf of bread from his cupboard, and drew it to his hand with a nice smack. Brandir indulged himself slightly, teeth smashing into the rough texture, chomping down, and drawing it up with a snap.

"You know," he said as he gulped down the last of it and turned to face his associates, "that must come in handy... The shapeshifting, I mean. If that is the case... Then I assume a different sort of food than I'd be able to supply would be your choice, mm, Miss Amaie? Sorry... I've only..." Another jolt snapped open a cupboard, shooting out a decent chunk of deer meat he had cleaned himself. Hunting was more fun than he would allow, and every so often he did manage to bank on a nice buck or doe. "... this, to offer. I trust that it would be unnecessary as but a snack, though, given Sir Kieli's disappearance...?"

Laying down the slab of meat, a heaping of raw protein that screamed for consumation, Brandir added, "... No matter. Now that both our secrets are out... ... I don't think we need to say anything more of them. We may as well just enjoy the company. If there's anything you two need, come here again, and I'll see what I can fish up. Also...

"... Hmm... Would you have happened to come across a fellow by the name of Edge Mazinn? He left my tribe to wander, and I hear he took a liking to the forests... Perhaps you've seen him -- tall guy, wears clothes like mine, dark complexion?"

One more lie, Brandir reasoned; just one more. Edge Mazinn wasn't the name of a wanderer; it was an adjutant leader of the Bao tribe, the one who had instigated the war that resulted in Chapa's death. He didn't know if he'd survived, but he recalled Chapa speaking of his enjoyment of the woodlands, and if he did still draw breath... Well, you've heard the term 'burning your bridges,' right? Brand had just now accepted his friend's death, but that didn't mean he encouraged it. If he could cut off this bastard's head, then maybe...

"... Ah. You've probably never heard of him, eh?" Brandir chuckled, and snapped his wrist, closing the cupboards he'd opened. "My apologies if that's the case. I just have some... old ghosts to settle with my friend Edge." So slightly, Brand's lip curled at the seams, a disturbing sort of grin that you'd usually see on a scheming baron, or a bloodthirsty assassin just before the big kill. He allowed it to linger for a moment, and dropped it, turning to face Amaie again.

(( I love inserting random shit into my posts. Don't you? ))

[Anonymous]

Kieli's wavering calmness led Amaie to study him, like she would a nervous horse. Was it the why his mind was silent? Or was it the she could sense his quivering excitement, his unsteady call, retracting the changes that had changed his teeth and fingernails. It was a struggle, and when it finally dissipated from his physical features he seemed the slightest bit more calmer. But Amaie's light blue eyes continued to study him, as if he were a snake, unsure if it was going to bite or slither away. She couldn't help it - at times like these he was unpredictable.

With her continuous considering him, Kieli walked towards her steadily, his right arm swinging across his front, curving over his chest. He looked like he was going to strike her, but she merely flinched and stood, straightening her shoulders. It was like she was daring him, silently. She was testing his restraint, and as far as she was concerned, it'd be far better if he hit her rather than try to strike our at Brandir. But in those slow-ticking minutes Kieli had realized the positioning of his arm and Amaie. He retracted away from her, looking confused and like he himself had been slapped. He shivered and his eyes adverted apologetically. He couldn't help it.... Or maybe he could, and he just didn't want too.

Kieli leaned past his sister and grabbed the milk meant for him and his eyes sought Brandir's face for a second and he nodded his head in a grudging 'thank you'. Like he really wanted to say that, really. It was just manners that had been badgered into his mind since youth. Goddamn! What kind of shit was this? Not only did he have to associate with people now, he had to be nice about it. What a day, Kieli thought grimly.

"It's not handy in the middle of a village," he mumbled ruefully.

Amaie couldn't hide the look of surprise that came across her face as Brandir went through even more trouble by offering her some meat he had killed. She took a calming sip of her milk and looked at it, touching her tongue thoughtfully to her upper lip. She glanced away and shook her head, smiling. It was his kill, not her's. He went through all that trouble to bring it down, thus she'd just have to hunt a rabbit later that night. No big deal.

"Oh.. Uh... No thank you. I don't want to waste your food," she said quickly.

Kieli shot a glance at her. He had already given the carcass to whatever animal wanted it. He had decided if she was hungry she could go find something to satisfy herself without him. His cheek twitched as he gave a low, urging growl. The twin's eyes crossed paths again and it wasn't long before Kieli's eyes darted away angrily. They really were siblings - they just couldn't get along that often. When they did, it was a blessing.

"I went hunting before," Kieli confirmed, the taste lingering in his mind and he grinned.

Then Brandir was talking about some guy. Edge Mazinn? Kieli pondered this name and then the description they were giving. It was vague, and he wondered if there would be any chance that Brandir would know the smell of thise person. But he ignore dit and thought more closely, his mind travelling back through the 6 months of isolation that he and his sister had. He bit his cheek as he thought and thought hard. Still, he only saw, maybe, a glimmer of some man in the woods.

"Perhaps a person? We were in our wolf forms so it's hard... We probably qucikly travelled a few miles if we saw anyone... Amaie?" He asked, nudging his sister.

She lifted her shoulder. She didn't remember any more than he did. It was probably harder for her, really. She was probably still trying to get over the effects and the different perceptions of human and wolf forms. He glanced at Brandir and he noticed that smile, or grin. He considered this new person carefully, eyes narrowing slightly. Amaie didn't seem to notice, but her being more in tuned with a person's emotions he knew she did. They weren't friends, Kieli guessed, but actually people with a score. Or at least Brandir had one. But Kieli didn't care and he assumed Amaie didn't. She may not condone violence but he knew she wouldn't get involved in someone else's business unless it was necessary.

"Everyone has something to settle with another person. Goddamn loose ends," Kieli said, shoulders briefly raising.

Amaie ignored her brother's words - she knew he was poking at her, as he always did. And he was being completely honest with Brandir and she guessed she could let that slide if he was getting along Brandir. Whatever it was, she thought. She took another sip of the milk, but her eyes slid to the far wall.

"A howl," he concluded, even before Amaie could ask.

(yeaaaaaaaah. random shit <3 gotta love it. bah, i'm trying to think of things, lmao, and not have my posts suck, but i'm having difficulty. forgive me XD)

[Anonymous]

((I think you're doing swimmingly, myself. As long as we're both enjoying it, eh? ))

Of course he wouldn't find any answers. Not with anyone, with anything. As Kieli verified that sad truth, Brandir gave a short sigh, and fell back into a hastily-positioned chair, cramming himself into the cheaply-upholstered furniture. That bridge would have to wait for his flame... Too bad for him, good for that asshole Edge. The twins conversed shortly, as seemed the norm, exchanging glances and stares, words and woes, as a brother and sister would.

Kieli seemed to prick up at something, his shoulders rising and falling as gently as the first snow. The words that came -- a howl -- seemed to verify what Brand's senses could not: that something was amiss. Whatever it was, the farmer reasoned, it would be of little importance. Still, his curiosity had been piqued, and he wouldn't so easily allow his company to be alarmed. "Whatever it was, musta been the wind..." He muttered, creating a mass of water and downing it in a single gulp like a bon-bon. It slid down his throat with a slim, soothing gulp; the perfect swallow, as it were.

"... Is there anything the matter, Sir Kieli? I'd hate for our company to be disrupted so sharply... If there's something I should know, please, tell me." For the moment, all Brandir could do was wait for a response.

(( I wasn't sure where you wanted to go with that howl, and my wrist started hurting, SOOO... You can do as ya like. I look forward to your next post (and, sorry for my filler one). ))

[Anonymous]

(aw, i feel bad for you, 'cuz your wrist. and you're just too nice. don't apologize for your posts unless their only a sentence long XP)

The glass of milk was poised to his lips, bright raindrop blue eyes stared at the wall, like maybe it'd suddenly become transparent and he could see into the woods. Another howl rose, sharp and ear shattering as a deep howl rose beside it. Taunting and hair raising, both of the howls were. Kieli's lip twitched in response, and he was focused so intently on those howls that when Amaie touched his arm he jumped, almost sending a drop of milk onto the table before he steadied his hand quickly. Kieli growled, a thick rumbling in his throat.

"It's... that bastard!" He said, putting down the cup of milk with a tap.

Amaie's lips parted as if she was going to speak, but nothing came out. Her mouth felt dry and she gave an awkward smile, the ends turned down, even though she tried to smile, a frown was hidden inside it. She gathered her waist length hair in her hand, running her fingers nervously through the white locks before tossing it back over her shoulder. Her eyes flickered to her brother, questioning.

"... Kieli, what are you talking about?" She asked, hiding her surprise and worry.

"You thought I didn't know. I'm not fucking stupid," he snapped at her, and she took a cautious step back.

"It's none of your business.... Really, it's not bad, Kieli," Amaie said with a forced calmness.

"Don't give me that, don't ever say that too me again! I swear," his fist clenched, the knuckles turning white.

"Please, calm down," she asked weakly, already feeling dizzy.

Kieli's hand shot out, gripping her shoulder as he stared her in the eyes, bristling. She stiffened and straightened as she stared back. A silver thread spun outwards, connecting with Kieli's eyes as they hazed over. He wavered slightly before holding strong and he pulled away and Amaie blinked. A trick. Really.

"Stupid trick. I hate that," Kieli said, much more calmler.

"I'll deal with it later, but he smells us," he grumbled, listening to a closer howl.

"Excuse us, really. I apologize - just some wolves from our birthpack that we know. That's all. They hold no importance, really, they could just be the wind," she said quickly, Kieli guffawing sharply at her side.

(ooo, sucky sucky *nods to herself*)

[Anonymous]

This Kieli fellow really seemed... up-at-arms. The fierceness in his snarl only a few seconds later seemed to verify it, referring to 'that bastard.' Brand's eye slid in the socket, shifting to look at the wall, which still resembled... a wall. Some serious shit seemed to be going down, though, so he couldn't very well ignore it -- especially if it put Miss Amaie in danger. As he turned back, he found Kieli poised to attack his sister; at once, he threw back his chair and rose, his mind churning out mass amounts of power to protect one of his guests from the other.

Such measures were quickly thwarted, as some bizarre technique forced Kieli back into sanity. For the moment, Brandir loosened his grip on himself, but he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was being watched... sensed. Amaie's words didn't reassure the mage at all, being that they were so... forced. Just as Kieli refused to believe her words, so, too, did Brand, except he took it a step further.

"If they were just the wind," He reasoned, "then would Sir Kieli really be getting into such a pissy fit? Please don't lie to me, Miss Amaie; it doesn't suit you." Stepping across the table, Brandir shook his arm, the vibrations throwing open his door. In his left hand, the Gemini blade rocketed to his grasp, which he gripped tightly to his chest as his chosen tool of battle. Brand crossed the small area towards the door, pausing to murmur to Amaie, "I may be rusty, but I can at least protect my own house, can't I? You two just do what you have to, and I'll... follow suit with what I have to do.

"Go, if you want."

Brandir had no desire to see Amaie and Kieli come to harm, but if he could, he would prefer to avoid a fight out in the open. Using his magic in his house was one thing, but showing off his freakish powers to the townspeople wasn't an option. Unless... No matter. All he would do for now was watch.

For now.

(( SPS ))

[Anonymous]

In a twisted sense, Amaie appreciated both of the males' bravado. But for all her softness and kindness she was determined - nay - destined to stop this. Why? Because in all reality, and through all the trials and turbalence her brother was fated to travel through with her, she didn't want this too happen. Her head spun, a cyclone of disastrous futures. Those two wolves were after her and Kieli was just doing what he did best, protecting his 6 minute younger sister and his only pack. And the other half of his soul. But either way, Amaie was adamant to refuse both proposels to fight for her even if it caused her to grow weary. Amaie decided she wouldn't beg, but she wouldn't waver.

"Now, just wait one second. The both of you," her voice was still it's usual soft self, but suddenly quite authoritive, but not without appreciation.

"Brandir - I do thank you greatly, and you possibly may not really know how much. And Kieli, there has never been a doubt in my mind about my love for you. But this is, very truthfully, my fight. They wont do more than skirt this area, even then they'll only follow me. I assure you, Brandir, they will not trespass on your property and make any attack on you or your lovely home. And Kieli," she turned to her brother fully, a frown on her lips, "This is my fight," she repeated softly.

It was rare, Kieli realized, taking a half step back in shock. This was the Amaie of the younger years - when she could merely stare down another wolf. And when she had fought, even if she hated it, she won. This was the true sister he missed, not the passive one who let the world scoot along past her, like she was so content to be a human woman, without say in anything around her. He was happy for the burst of backbone, which was made him pause. But about this? Of all things! Her safety. But she seemed so sure of herself that he didn't want to break her confidence by saying she'd never, possibly, win against two males. And their was no one in hell that he'd leave his younger sister to fight this alone.

Amaie turned her pale blue sights on Brandir, clearly ready for anything that might approach. While she may not be the strongest, or the most convincing, her eyes were set determinedly. Her mind was made and her arms were crossed firmly across her front, eyes matching Brandir's for a second in wolf speech - a stare in the eyes meant a  challenging. Did either of them have any to say to her? She was ready to defend herself, against both them and their howling guests, who knew very well they were on guard.

The howls had turned to yips and growls, mocking them from the shadows around the home. Amaie heard it and her lips twisted. Kieli was, while shocked and guilty from his earlier displays of rage, his head bowed he lsitened to them. They were taunting them! He shifted, stiffened and stared. How.. how.. Enraging! He gritted his teeth, thinking how stupid he was to be standing there, listening to them try to challenge him. For what reason, he wondered.

"They're teasing us," he said finally, eyes lowered and hard, like glittering blue jewels.

"And, now, please don't let them get to either of you. Why don't we all relax? Please... Maybe we can all sit, if you don't mind Brandir if we stayed longer... I don't mean to sound intrusive or anything. But that's what you had planned before, hadn't you? We could sit, talk, or even just stare at the wall in silence. But I refuse to let either of you make an advance on them," Amaie stated matter-of-factly, eyeing each man carefully, considering their eyes and body language.

"But ---" Kieli growled and Amaie simply pushed a finger against his lips, staring him in the eye before he grudgingly backed down.

"I hate this.You always win, treating me like a pup when I'm a good 6 minutes older," he grumbled, moping slightly, eyes longingly tracing the far wall as if he could see those shifting wolf shapes. But he couldn't.

(SPS? XD Aha. Woo for action. Hah. I'm trying to think of things and... Iunno. Just randomly posting. lmao)

[Anonymous]

Have you ever seen Death, and have Him stare you down, not even having to use its eyes or words to sway your passions? That was the kind of silent desperation that came from Amaie's voice, and one that made Brandir turn a 180 in his soul. He could only stare blankly at her, sensing her words, but not hearing them, remembering that same spirit that had led him down this road...

"YOU SHAN'T FIGHT OVER ME TODAY, BROTHERS!!! If death shall visit, then it shall be upon I, alone...!!"

"Chapa! Wh... What the hell are you gonna...?!"

"...!!!"

"Ch... CHAPA!!!" Thunk. There was no life in the noise made by Chapa's fall, not even the whistling of his vibrant wind. He, the one who had taught Brandir his fighting technique. He, who had laughed and cried with him. He, who had sworn to love his Arrow for evermore. Now, it was all so much dust in the wind.

... This was unnerving. Even the tone that Amaie spoke in, the look in her face, the sounds she made as she moved, everything led back to Chapa. The real kicker was that the sorrow he heard was the same, as well...

The eyes of Brandir and Amaie met, and interlocked, a conflict striking the farmer as if he'd been struck by a twister. Perhaps that would've been preferable to seeing the stare she gave him.

You're too harsh, Arrow... Lighten up a little! Life ain't lived but once!

Brand's heartbeat thundered through his ears, the pulse in his tensing wrists flooding his senses.

C'mon! Just relax, already~! Have a nice drink, 'ere...

The decisiveness of the wolf-girl's stare was startling. The mage, for all his confidence a few moments earlier, choked back a cry -- 'Stop it! You'd die...' It never came, but oh, how he wished it would have...

...

Amaie's suggestion came at a time when Brandir was all but unable to resist. That look... Those words. Maybe Chapa's memory wasn't quite erased yet. Maybe he was wrong to attempt to confront Amaie's enemies. He wouldn't make a move against her now, as long as she remained safe, here.

But he'd sooner be damned by the Gods themselves than allow harm to come to Amaie. If she put herself in harm's way... God help him, he would fight this day.

He said nothing, rather, cracking his wrist twice, once to open the compartment on top of his cupboards, and once to summon up a set of spare robes, even shoddier than his current attire. They seemed to be made of roughshod fabric, not even worth what it had been paid for; the arms were short, ragged, and the waist ribbed with torn fringes. He had worn that when Chapa died.

"Don't even think you're not welcome here, Amaie," He spoke gently, as he slid out from his wet robes and drew up the one that had symbolized his flight from danger that fine, fine day. "You can stay as long as you like; the bed's yours to use, as well... But..."

Brandir slipped his arms into the fabric, feeling the coarseness slide down his fore. It still reeked of blood and grass, scents that not even the strongest of currents could wash out. For a moment he twitched in his eye, which subsided, but nevertheless stayed with him. "... You won't die," He said with finality, an end-of-discussion kind of thing. His eyes turned to Amaie's, repeating with all he could muster the stare of challenge she'd sent him. "Don't think you're going to die while you're here. That wouldn't reflect well on your host, you understand. Get it?"

[Anonymous]

(bah, sorry for any typing mistakes or if it sucks. at school and it's their computers, i swear :D I'm just happy I'm not using their stupid laptops.)


Why did it seem that Brandir could detect her emotions and predict her intentions? It made her hesistant, but she would be damned if she'd let anything then her own mind sway her. She gathered her pale hair in her hands again, nervously pulls her hands along it as she listened to him. Her mind searched it's recesses, considering what he said carefully to come up with her own voice. But it was fading fast, she realized, that voice of her own. It always seemed to dissipate when she was most certain she needed it the most. How... elusive it could be. She stood their, still, a tremble running along her arms and down her back, eyes flickering to Brandir's.

"That's really a nice offer but... I don't want me, or us, to cause any trouble for you... Anymore than we already have," she quickly interjected after he told her about her being welcomed.

"....I'm sorry," was all she said, but too what who could know?

Amaie's soft blue eyes slid away, and she refused to meet either of their eyes, and even she put a mental block on her brother as he tried persistantly to break down her guards. She continued to run her hands and fingers through her hair, interwining them to calm her jittery nerves. Drawing a sigh she managed to look at them and smile faintly. While he was right... It wouldn't really be polite die here, now would it? She couldn't have her blood on his conscious, and she tried to piece together where it wouldn't rest heavily on her brother either. And yet, was the latter even possible?

"Let's enjoy ourselves," Kieli said, almost bitterly, and yet softly as his eyes held fast to Amaie.

She continued to neglect looking at either of them in the eyes, or showing them clearly her face. Was she up to something? Kieli wasn't sure, but he suddenly knew he wouldn't let his sister out of his sight. And even he may not wholey trust this.. Brandir, he seemed to be determined as well to not let harm come to the girl. He vaguely wondered why before he pulled a seat out for his sister, eyes darting between her and the chair pointedly before she gracefully slid into it. Good, he thought. At least she was sitting - it'd delay her, if only by seconds, to run anywhere.

Kieli then sat down at the table as well and his eyes trailed to Brandir suspiciously, almost accusingly so. What was HIS angle?

"You're being very.. nice to us. Thanks," he said, but he couldn't hide the wariness in his voice and couldn't bring himself to truly mean it.

Amaie glanced at her brother, but her eyes slid to Brandir and she smiled, backing up what her brother said with her own sincerity. What could do about her brother? It was his own attitude and ideas. All she could do was offer to it.

"Well, uh.... Is there anything to talk about, I wonder?" Amaie asked after a few moments silence, only the stirring of the outside shadows lingering between.

Kieli rolled his shoulders in a shrug. He was trying to think but conversation was having a lull, and he just wasn't the time up for conversation all the time.

[Anonymous]

Y'know, Chapa never did apologize for anything; so there WAS something to set him apart from this girl. In the deeper parts of his psyche, Brandir heaved a sigh of relief, though the prospect of wild wolf people barging in on milk and meat wasn't the most... comforting idea to take into mind. But, in the end, what happened, would happen; all he could do was what he chose to. The topic of discussion -- or the lack thereof -- came to the fore, and so Brand took it upon himself to command his audience.

"Well... Why not swap tribal stories?" He suggested, filled with the resolve that it would be better to speak than hold his peace. "My tribe's got a ton of 'em, that they do... Like the old well-dweller, or the coward who became a hero... Take your pick; what do YOU want to hear?"

At that point Brandir had decided that anything would be better than those noisy asses outside.

(( SPS ))

[Anonymous]

(You're driving me insane. what does SPS mean? O.o)

It was almost immediate their replies.

"The coward who became a hero....?" She said.

"The old well dweller," he said gruffly.

The twins looked eachother in vague surprise, blue eyes matching blue eyes and they stared at eachother, as if appraising eachother, seeing the similiarities along with the differences in the long moment they shared. Then, simultaneously, a smile flickered to surface on Amaie's lips, like it was ever far from her lips. Kieli's was stiff, crooked and weak, as if he was struggling to make it genuine, or to even smile at all, but it was true, at least. It was a pity the howl's and chorusing whimpers surrounded the house, coming into a crescendo, raising, waved, swallowing, consuming them in a sea of noisey simperings that was on the verge of driving Kieli crazy as he turned rigid.

"They have some nerve," he said bitterly, glancing at Brandir.

"They're basically taunting us, and laughing, humored and very.... light hearted," he mumbled but a stern glance from Amaie.

"They'll end soon. Stop ignoring the bored tone in their voices. It's already dying off and growing distant, along with their scent," she stated matter-of-factly.

Kieli shrugged. He had been trying to ignore those facts just so he could have a reason go out there and teach thsoe annoying wolves a lesson. They were disgracing their pack and he was quite.. insulted. He hated it, along with those taunts and the bluffing and just the light heartedness. How did he find it so amusing? He shifted and swivelled back towards Brandir again.

"Anyway. The coward who became a hero, I guess. Just to humor her," he jutted his jaw out and jerked his thumb at his sister, subtly teasing her.

She stuck out her tongue at him, deciding her brother needed the relief of a childish side. She scrunched up her face for a second at him, and he shook his head as his smile became more relaxed, more at ease on his face as he shifted back in his seat, drawing in a deep breath through his noise.

"Tribal stories, huh? There must be thousands that we have," he admitted, kind of reluctantly really.

"Don't remember them though," he said before turning his attention back to Brandir.

"Oh, eh, sorry we keep doing that. It's just... ah," he shrugged, doing a gesture that Brandir should just hurry up and tell the story before he lost Kieli's attention again.

[Anonymous]

(( SPS = Short Post Syndrome. I learned it in this site's glossary, so... Yeah, maybe you'd want to check that out. ))

Brandir clapped his hands together firmly, a smile growing on his face. "Very well, then!" He excitedly exclaimed, hiding the pissiness in his voice fairly well. "The coward who became a hero... This is an old tribal myth, never did believe it, myself, but... It's a nice epic. Now, it begins in the sixteenth year of the Rishi clan's rule over the tribe..." He then spoke of the story, which shall be 'quoted' for simplicity's sake.

In the sixteenth year of Rishi, there was once a herder named Riji, a Hasho, or a peasant in tribal terms. He was, from youth, a coward, running from the slightest danger, screaming at the faintest whim in terror. Still, his heart was of the Hasho, and he would participate in the meetings of the under-class quite often. It was there that he found a voice, however distant, in himself.

One day, Kraobe the Rishi chief entered the under-class's meeting, and declared, "This shall cease. Your likes are no longer considered our brethren, by order of the Council. You shall, forthwith, be restricted from your previous laurels."

Maracanth the Hasho said, "That is wrong! We, the Hasho, are just as good as any of your Rishi. For what reason did the Council make this decision?" Said Kraobe, "Because, my dear Maracanth, it was seen at long last how useless your people are. Prepare your things; you'll be leaving come the morrow, every last one of you. Begone."

And so Kraobe left, and Maracanth declared, "This shall not be allowed. Brethren, take up your swords and shields; we FIGHT!" It was agreed upon from the wide range of Hasho, numbering three hundred and forty three to the Rishi number of five hundred and seven, would do combat 'gainst the oppression of the Rishi. All agreed, except for Riji, who did say, "Brethren, can we not agree to avoid conflict? We have women and children, frail and elderly. Must we throw ourselves to suicide?"

Said Maracanth, "There is to be no other way. We can only die in grace or live in disgrace. What choose you, brother? What can you live and die with?" And so Maracanth's words struck the young peasant.

The day of the battle came around, as both edges of the vast plains lined themselves with men and women, even children as young as seven, armed to the teeth and ready to die for their beliefs. Again Riji said, "Brethren, is there no other way? Can we not avoid bloodshed?" Said Maracanth, "There is to be no turning back. Choose now, brother, or fall by our swords." Again those words overwhelmed him, and Riji stepped away from the battle, and watched from the sidelines as the war began; he was considered a neutral by the Rishi, and so was to be spared if possible.

It began, and so sword and sorcery clanged against one another, with the Rishi gaining a slight disadvantage on the eastern side of conflict. As Riji stood and watched the heroism of his people, shame overwhelmed him, shame at his cowardliness and foolish behavior. Drawing his blade, he decreed, "To the death!" and did charge into the heat of battle.

He had no hope of turning the tide alone, but seeing the wave of bravery that washed over their coward, the Hasho pushed back the Rishi with all of their spirit, and with their zealous blades overturned sixteen years of ruthless rule. Riji fell that day, killed by a stray arrow, but his honorable blade and helm were interned for many a decade after, a testamony to the one who had gave them victory over their oppressors. Even today, it was said by many a strongman, "This was a hero, plain and simple." That is all that matters, now, in the sands of deserted time.

[Anonymous]

The outside had turned quiet, and so had the twins. Amaie's hands were clapsed in her lap, her face tilted down as she listened attentively. Kieli, on the other hand, was leaned back in the chair, eyes studying Brandir's face before sliding to his mostly empty cup. He tugged his arms closed to his chest, crossing them as he listened, a grim expression on his face. Just like humans, he thought. Them and their wars. While Kieli understood their point of view entirely, he still disliked it. By nature, wolves were not prone to fight, but bluff until one backed down. Survival of the fittest, as it was, and it was nice to stay fit. A simple injury to the paw could effect hunting and even gain infection.

This was a very confusing thing. It was a splendid tale - except Amaie wasn't sure on her view of it. She too understood why they went to war. But it seemed so... pointless, and yet it didn't. Throw your life away for beliefs, and to open the door for future generations... if you win. Or forever lock it. While Amaie believed in nothing more than peace, she also knew that it was nothing more than a fantasy that would never happen. War was part of the cycle of the world, it was too intertwined. People went to war, sometimes for the most stupid reasons. And sometimes, they went to war for so long, they didn't even remember why it started.

"That's a very interesting story, Brandir," she commented softly, still studying her delicate hands.

Kieli's forehead furrowed, his lips pulled tight into a thin line. He was contemplating on his own opinion - personally, it seemed so pointless and stupid. Then again, he had never been a big fan of humans, so maybe his opinon was biased. But still, he himself would fall back on physical violence, but only in defense. As he contemplated on what he'd do, he took a finishing sip of his milk, eyes lifting to Brandir. He gave a light smile.

"Yeah. That's pretty good. Better than our stories," he offered his own opinion, deciding it was good, regardless of the other matters.

(Maybe if I sink to whole new level of boredom and need something to do...)

[Anonymous]

Quiet. It was as if the hounds at the gate had silenced themselves, and briefly, Brandir entertained the possibility that they, too, were listening. Such follies were quickly dismissed. He did, however, lean back in happiness, seeing his wards enjoy the story he had told. It wasn't really his best voice, storytelling, but at the least, he managed to eke out the words. It was still a bitch remembering all that...

Brand chuckled. "You enjoyed it, then? Good to hear. I've a few more I can remember, like the old well-dweller, or perhaps the sacrificial servant... What else? ... I think those are it." He took a slow swig of his drink, eye floating about the room, locking on Kieli and his 'smile.' What was his angle? Amaie seemed to actually care what he said, but that sort of smile wasn't sincere; it was mockery. If their eyes were to meet, Brandir quickly pulled away, and rose up, calling to his hand -- from his library -- another book, which he laid down on the table.

"I've got a few novels, mostly romance and... action," he said gently, eyeing Kieli, and then back to Amaie. "And, if you want, more stories to tell. I can't offer much in the way of music, I'm afraid -- never had the talent -- so that's really about it. What would you like to do?"

[Anonymous]

Amaie breathed softly, the remnants of his last story still lingering in her head. She brushed back a pale tendril, her eyes flickering around his home for not the last time. He drew a book from his shelf and she wondered what she wanted to listen too most. She closed her eyes and held them shut, her mind drifting off the conjure up random nonsense - nonsense that'd hopefully tell her what story she'd want to hear. Although it was sad, it was intriguing all the same. Her lightblue eyes flickered open, gently alit with interest.

She smiled. "The sacrifical servant? ... Maybe then, if you still want too, a romance one?" She asked hopefully.

Kieli just nodded his head to Brand, telling him to just indulge his sister, a clear sign that he had no opinion, and would go with whatever his sister wanted. But at the mention of a romance story he flinched visibly, his bright blue eyes flickering to his ivory twin, eyebrows arching high over his narrow gaze. Was she out to kill him, or something, by a story? He frowned softly at her, but she seemed to be totally oblivious to it.

Kieli could never stand stories like his sister did. She was just... so much more interested in literture like the rest of the humans. He frowned again, remembering their youthful puppy days when they played in the sun, mostly in wolf skin rather than bare, vulnerable human flesh.

That was a long time ago, though. And he understood times were changing, however much he despised it. However much he despised the pack or the outside world, it didn't matter. Unless he died, he was never through with it all. Both worlds seemed to reject him and he couldn't stand it. The pack didn't like him - apparently, he was too dark. His episodes of violence were unwelcomed. And Amaie, dear sweet Amaie, just wasn't their type of wolf.

(it sucks, sorry, in Computers class at School. -.-')

[Anonymous]

Glancing from Kieli back to Amaie, Brand smiled, and spoke. "The sacrificial servant, it is. If you want romance, I'd probably have to direct you to one of my books... Anyway!"

In a far-off tribe there was once a nobleman, one who adorned himself with shining silver and glittering gold as he found it. He had many servants and much money, and so for much of his life he never worked. One of his servants was Kerholt; the noble's name was Banda.

One day, Banda said to Kerholt, "I wish for fresh milk. Bring it to me in a glass no less costly than silver." To his master, Kerholt said, "As you desire, milord." And so he went to fetch the milk. He retrieved it, poured it into the finest glass he could find, and bestowed it upon Banda. Banda reviled, exclaiming that the milk was sour, and so ordered Kerholt flogged.

One day, Banda said to Kerholt, "I wish for fresh venison. Bring it to me, on a platter of silver, nothing less." To his master, Kerholt said, "As you desire, milord." And so he went to fetch a deer. He caught it, slew it, and brought the venison to his master. Banda reviled, exclaiming poison was inside the meat, and ordered Kerholt thrown into a cell.

Banda had had a long-running dispute with another nobleman, and a leader of a tribe, and that argument escalated into full-scale war. Banda's men were slain, one-by-one, leaving only he and Kerholt. He opened his servant's cell, and said desperately, "Dear Kerholt, hold back the tribe just a bit so I might escape! I beg of you!" Kerholt smiled, and said, "Very well, milord." And so he went off, sword in-hand, to restrain the tribesmen.

The tribesmen met Kerholt in the entrance hall to Banda's mansion, and said, "Brother, do not halt us. We have come for the head of Banda." Kerholt drew his sword, and said, "My master's commands are absolute. I shan't let you pass."

And so Kerholt was slain protecting his master. Banda was caught as he fled, and publicly executed, though not before acknowledging all that he had done. He had owned the entirety of Kerholt's family at one time, but not Kerholt, himself, due to an agreement that the thirdborn son would be free. Kerholt did see this, and made a pact with Banda: In exchange for letting his brothers and sisters go, he would take their place, and swear fealty to Banda for the cost of his own life. It was agreed upon, and so the freeman became the servant.

Thus, the sacrificial servant.

(( Meh, shitty story. ))

[Anonymous]

It was a glance that didn't need to be there, but it was shared nonetheles by the twins. A faint smile alit Amaie's sweet face, while Kieli did nothing more than raise his eyebrow slightly, curving it over a bright blue eye, almost as if to say, "I understand why you're smiling... but why're smiling because of that?" And her smile grew stronger, vivid on the curve of her lips. She turned back to Brand, a soft grin flickering over her face, her head cocked to one sider with thought, pondering on this story. She looked at her delicate hands, videos upon videos replaying themselves in her head - memories and stories pouring in all at once, like some gigantic faucet of memory was turned full blast on cold, leaving her chilled and stunned.

Kieli studied his sister even when her head was cocked to one side, and he tried to reach his mind to her, to wiggle past the blockade that exiled him from the vastness of her mind. He grimaced slightly, feeling as if shunned by his own twin - his own opposite. He let out a sigh and told himself that wasn't it. That it wasn't because he was who he was... But... it seemed so much more likely then any other "logical" explaination. Anyway, logic didn't quite belong in this world. This world of confusion and beasts.

"Such lovely stories," Amaie murmured, her pale eyes flickering sincerely to Brandir.

Kieli lifted his shoulder, and flashed a smile at him. "They are nice stories," he said, trying to be as honest as possible which came out more reluctantly than he had anticipated.

"Do you believe that last story, Brandir?" Amaie asked him curiously, brushing back a pale tendril of hair from her face.

Kieli's eyes traced the shadows and curves of every piece inside the house, resting back on Brandir lightly, studying with an unreadable expression before turning it way, eyes flickering away to the tabletop, frowning slightly.

(i' mtrying to think of soemthing - anything. but my brain is dead and i'm tired... eheh. ><)

[Anonymous]

(( Everyone, I'm sorry for bumping this, but I just need to get back into the swing of things. Shoot/stab/murder as you like. o.o

Emoosts, I've already asked your permission, so... If I don't respond quick enough feel free to poke me. ))

Brandir's chair creaked back as he reclined in thought. "I don't know whether what I tell is true. All I know is that it's been in the family for generations. At this point, I really couldn't care less, Miss Amaie." The leg snapped back down with a jolt, its master having a purpose in mind. The howls had long ago died away, but to a man of the plains silence meant only a quiet death when unprepared.

Here the farmer turned to Kieli. "You seem to be awfully nonchalant tonight after that outburst a while back. Care to elaborate," he asked, "or do you not want to share with me?" As his head turned back, Brand's eye caught the turn and locked onto Kieli, an odd stare (as can best be described) forming from its cornea. Whatever Kieli was feeling, he was sharing far less than Amaie. At night, especially with a wolfman, taking chances on motivation wasn't wise in the least. Brand furled his hands into a nest for his chin, lay down into it, and continued to merely look at the wolfman.

Something would have to give.