((OOC: Tags to Ickedu. Can always change things if there's not enough context or ways to enter for you))
The forest was characteristically loud for the middle of the afternoon. Not really what you expect from a forest, but the Connlaothian winds were blowing strong today, as they usually were, and the gusts of air made tree branches rustle with surprising volume.
Turnrin tried to dampen the noise from his attention as he stalked his target. He was glad that the sound was there to help mask any of his errant movements, but it was a bother to his focus. He stopped suddenly. His quarry had halted it's motion, and was still.
He watched the cougar with an intense stare, waiting to see any signs of it noticing him. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when the animal lay on the ground and put it's head in it's head down. Good, hadn't spotted him. It was just going to sleep. Good.
The animal lay in a clearing, and Turnrin approached the perimeter of it's resting place slowly. Carefully and quietly, he pulled out his notebook and charcoal. He lay down himself in some underbrush outside of the forest clearing and began sketching the majestic creature. He was working for several minutes, and had made some progress, when his arm cramped up from his poor drawing posture. He shifted to relieve the pressure, and heard the snapping sound of a twig breaking under his shifting weight. Uh oh.
He saw the cougar's ears perk up, and it slowly turned it's head towards the underbrush where Turnrin was lying.
Well this wasn't good.
Felinn loved it.
The harsh winds that played with her hair and let the golds and reds dance in them. The forest that roared with life in the winds. The signs of wild animals everywhere around her. The freedom without any obligations towards the so-called civilization. And....
The Hunt.
It had been a couple of days ago that she had found the dead animals. About a dozen deer. It had been clean kills, the marks of the teeth clearly visible at the back of the neck. The claw marks at the side of the prey. And most of the carcasses untouched, abandoned for the following scavengers. Clearly the work of a overzealous cougar.
It was not abnormal. But now Felinn was also here. And she was dependent on finding enough game to hunt for her own survival. She could not tolerate this other hunter any longer. And the hunter itself would be a good prey for her intentions: Enough meat to last a while. Sharp teeth for use as tools. Warm hide against the coming winter. And a new challenge for her own hunting.
So she had followed the trail of the cougar for the last few days, and the signs got stronger that she was approaching his home camp. Now she was slowly sneaking through the brushwood, expecting to see her prey every minute. By now she could even scent the cougar, so she had to be really near.
She adjusted the short bow on her back, again checked the arrows in the quiver, assured herself of the dagger in her belt and ducked down even more into the underbrush. Another scrub and bolder later she could finally see her prey. It was apparently resting and seemed to be comfortable.
Felinn hesitated a moment, her hand already began to reach for the bow on her back, but she held it back. Instead, she unsheathed her dagger. She again began to move when she could hear a quiet sound of another creature close-by. She stopped to watch for the cougars reaction. It apparently also had noticed the sound and raised its head.
A very hushed growl escaped Felinns mouth. Who disturbed her hunt? Another prey? Another hunter? She resumed her movement in a slight arc nearer and nearer to the cougar, paying attention that the wind could not carry her scent to the cougar and always hidden in the underbrush and tensly watching and listening for further signs who was here.
But the cougar also had risen. Probably also to check for the intruder who was maybe unwanted, maybe just in time for lunch. Sniffing, it turned around and took a few steps to get a better scent or view of who was there.
Turnrin froze in place, praying to Kia that the cougar would overlook him. He/she must have been busy because the carnivore started approaching his hiding place. He considered. Should he make a break for it? Had the animal caught his scent yet? If he went invisible could he get away? Did cougar's climb trees?
Suddenly, he was out of time to think. The cougar let out a low growl, and Turnrin decided that bolting while invisible would be the best option. He cloaked his presence with his magic and slipped out of the bushes as quietly as possible.
He began sneaking away, but he heard something snap underneath his feet. He looked down to see a bisected twig. How many dry twigs were there in this forest?!
He checked behind him to make sure he was still losing the feline. He wasn't. Even as the cougar pounced on him, Turnrin made a mental note: Cougar's have an excellent sense of hearing. It would be a good addition to his catalogue, if he survived long enough to write in it.
Felinn got indignant. The cougar was hunting! And this even though she was here to hunt it. And she couldn't even recognize what it was hunting! Her hair flashed even more red in anger and the growl in her throat began to rise.
This was when she could hear another sound from a fleeing creature. And when she looked into the direction her ears had told her, she believed to see a faint flicker. But she was not the only one with a high attention. The cougar also had noticed it and another moment later it leaped for the supposed position of its prey.
But that was too much for her hunting self. That had to stop! She was the hunter and her prey had no right to turn the tides. And while she herself began to sprint, her fist closed around the dagger, her anger overcame her and with it the low growl raised to a loud roar, bigger and loader than her slim body seemed to allow. And with the roar, the life in the near surroundings came to a halt. Most creatures without a particular strong will stopped what they were doing and appeared to listen for a moment. Even the cougar hesitated for a second as soon as it reached firm ground directly at its prey.
The moment didn't last longer than the twinkling of an eye. But it was enough for Felinn to reduce her distance to the cougar. And with a short leap, she sank her dagger to the hilt into the side of the cat, where she believed to find its heart.
The shock of the animal's body taking him to the ground forced Turnrin to drop his invisibility. He was sure he was going to die, right up until he heard a massive roar. The sound was huge, and the monk was suddenly worried that he'd wandered into bear territory.
Well, he was until the cougar quite suddenly left it's place. Something had removed the creature from on top of him, and he heard the cougar cry out in extreme pain. He was winded, and it took him a bit to recover his breath. When he finally did, he looked up to see what had attacked the beast.
It looked was a human, he was pretty sure, and a woman at that. What was she doing out here. And why was she wrestling with the cougar. He tried to stand, but he was still too winded to get up properly.
Felinn had hit her target quite closely, but the cougar was a tough opponent and would not go down without resistance.
Already wounded it wasted no more time, turned around and sank its fangs into Felinn's arm.
With a loud cry Felinn let go of the dagger that still stuck in the cougar's side, reached for an arrow in her quiver, drew it and stabbed it into an eye of the wild cat. The cat returned the favor and struck with its claw to Felinn's head.
But this time, the woman was faster and could dodge the strike so that it failed to find its mark. She for her part forced the arrow even deeper into its eye.
With a big shudder the cougar finally collapsed, not without tearing a chunk of flesh out of Felinn's arm.
Felinn remained standing, but a moment later her body also began to shudder slightly. The reds and blacks in her hair vanished and gave room for a blunt grey-blond. Blood dripped from her injured arm.
The Connlaothian winds were blowing strong again and drowned the forest in its noise once more. The noise of the wind then mixed with a vague sob. Felinn knelt down and bowed over the cougar. Then she whispered a few quiet words which were fortified by a tear out of her eyes.
She straightened up again, her body hard panting as a result of the strain of the fight, and remained kneeling silently at the carcass of the cougar that had been bustling with life just a few moments ago.
Turnrin watched in awe as the woman wrestled with the cougar. She displayed amazing strength and agility in the short skirmish, and the monk began to have doubts about his saviors actual species. His uncertainty grew stronger when her hair color spontaneously changed color. A magical creature in Connlaoth? He needed to investigate.
That thought gave Turnrin the strength necessary to stand again. He looked himself over, and noticed that he had some minor wounds, not to mention some tears in his robe from, all from the beast's claws. Luckily though it all seemed superficial. He turned away from his own wounds to consider his savior He saw that the woman was kneeling over the cougar's broken body in what could only have been a prayer.
He walked slowly and with reverence to where she knelt. He saw no hint that she noticed his approach, and he felt that it would be wrong to interrupt her, so he waited until she straightened and finished her ritual.
When he perceived that she was finished, he started speaking. "Excuse me miss. I must tell you that you have my humblest thanks. Without your assistance, I would surely be grievously injured or even dead. I, Brother Turnrin, am in your debt."
Startled Felinn tensed up and turned around when she heard the foreign voice. But after she had eyed him for a moment, she relaxed again, though still remained silent and looked him over intensely for some time.
She herself wore typical Connlaothian practical clothes, a short tunic made from linen, a jacket made of fur and breeches made of leather. Everything tight fitting, simple and partly wrapped with long leather strips to keep it down against the strong wind. Her feet were covered with simple moccasins. All here clothes looked very worn down and seemed to be patched up multiple times.
At her left forearm where the cougar had bitten her, the sleeve was torn and more and more soaked with blood.
On her back she had her shortbow and quiver, the dagger was still stuck in the cougar. Aside from that and a small pouch at her belt she didn't seem to carry more equipment with her.
The moment of silence dragged on an almost awkward time, but then finally she seemed to rate him as harmelss and a small smile could be seen on her lips when she answered him.
Or rather she tried to answer him. But first only an inarticulate, croaky sound could be heard. She breathed deeply once more and cleared her throat before she finally answered, still with a hushed, hoarse voice: "I.... it's fine. .... I just wanted to... to get it." For a moment she turned her head back to the dead cougar before she again looked at him. "I'm..... sorry. I didn't want to..... disturb you. I...." she hesitated for a moment. "I.... hardly noticed you were there."
She stood there kind of awkward and apparently didn't know what to do right now.
Turnrin pulled at his robes nervously as the silence between them stretched on. Was she going to speak? He was seriously considering filling the awkward space with more words when she finally spoke up. Her speech was, awkward, to say the least. Like someone trying to remember how to communicate.
He listened to her articulate her words, and waited a bit longer after she had finished to make sure that she had nothing else to say. It seemed imprudent to rush her, and he only began speaking again when he was positive that she was done.
"Disturb me? Why, you did anything but. You saved my life. I feel that I must repeat, I am in your debt. Whether you noticed or not, you've earned my thanks and my admiration."
He stared at her for a moment, specifically at her hair. "And my curiosity. You have certain, how should I say, traits that are not commonly found in Connlaoth," he looked at her inquiringly. "I understand that you might be uncomfortable discussing your, uniqueness, but I assure you that I hold not prejudice against those who are different."
He was about to stop to allow her to craft a response when he realized that most clergy the girl was experienced with were likely to be of a certain persuasion about magic. "And uh, you don't have to worry about my beliefs about power of the...well... mystical type. I follow... um... different teachings, than many of those in this nation."
He might be in a bit of trouble revealing that here, but the girl had saved his life. And her condition made it such that Turnrin thought he could trust her. Then again, the monk had a habit of being a trusting man.
,,Oh... this..." Felinn raised her arms and timidly tried to hide her hair behind her shoulders and head so that he could see less of it. But because of the length of her hair it hardly had any effect beside that her hair was now messed with blood from her wound and turned even more gray.
With a hushed voice she continued: ,,I... did not do this, I am... not able to help it or... stop it."
She hesitated a moment before she continued: "And.... my mother.... was not born here, but..." Uncertain she lowered her eyes, but as soon as she got a glimpse of the dead cougar a bit of the golden color returned to her hair, and she sounded considerably more confident when she looked up again and continued: "Are you hungry? I think... I have enough for the both of us and there still will be enough leftovers for me."
Turnrin was going to ask her more questions about her heritage, but sudden concern prevented him. He barely heard her last few words and began speaking again almost before she was done with her last sentence.
"You're injured," he said with sudden seriousness. "Why didn't you tell me? No, that's a stupid question, how did I not see it?" those last few words were directed at himself. "Come here," he was speaking to her again and he accentuated his words with a gesture, "Let me take a look."
He knelt down and unshouldered a knapsack. "I have some experience with dressing and bandaging wounds," he said as he worked. It took only a moment for him pull several clean, white linens and a couple poultices from his bag.
He looked up to her and gestured again for her to come over. "Now come over here so I can treat you or I'm going to go to you," he threatened mildly.
Felinn knit her eyebrows when she heard his 'threat' and looked at him intensely for a moment. "...You will?" But then she looked at her arm, sighed lightly and nodded hardly noticeable.
"I... that would be good I think. But it is.... not as bad as it looks. Let's find some water first. There should be a small stream.... just a few paces away." She pointed in a north-eastern direction, where the ground declined slightly.
And without waiting for an answer or objection, she already bend down, pulled her dagger out of the dead cougar, cleaned it roughly at a tuft of grass and put it back into her belt. Then she began to pick up the dead body to put it on her shoulder.
Turnrin was going to object, they didn't need to get to water for him to treat her, but something stopped him.
Maybe it was the efficient way in which she cleaned her dagger. Or perhaps it was the prodigious strength she demonstrated by effortlessly lifting the cougar's corpse. It might even have been how little regard she showed for what he would consider a serious wound.
Whatever the reason, the monk was suddenly less interested in telling her what to do. Best to allow follow her on this.
He looked in the direction where she had pointed, and listened to see if he could hear running water. He didn't seem to catch anything, but that didn't mean much. His hearing was almost as bad as his eyesight.
"How big is this stream?" he asked as he waited for her to take the lead. "Does it run or is it stagnant? If you want to clean the wound with the water than it'g gotta be moving. Still water is not very good for cleaning. Or, that's what I've read anyway."
The cougar was not the biggest of its species, but was still of considerable weight. So when Felinn finally lifted the dead body up, this required most of her strength. She was trained well and she knew how to handle dead animals with great efficiency, so for an outside observer it might have looked like effortless. But sure it wasn't. An attentive observer actually could have noticed that her exceptional strength and agility that she had demonstrated while fighting the cougar now had left her.
When she stood up again with the cougar on her shoulder, she even struggled for a short moment and had to find her balance again, before she began to walk into the direction she had pointed earlier.
But still, now she seemed quite confident about herself. When Brother Turnin was questioning her about the stream, she just looked at him for a moment, smiled, and then silently continued her way.
There was no real path they could follow, but the underbrush was not too dense and the slope was not very steep, so they could make their way fairly easy. Felinn continued to approach her target silently without further regard to Turnin. She probably didn't respond even if Turnin tried to talk to her.
After only a few dozen steps, the bottom of the slope could be seen. The forest got a little thicker down there, and in fact now the lively burbling of a small stream could be heard.
And it was just in time. Now that the hunt had completely left Felinn, her wound began to trouble her. Her pace got more unsteady and her breathing became more strained. It was not yet alarming, but it was obvious that she couldn't go on like this for very long.
When Felinn finally reached the stream she just dropped her prey to the ground and sat down at the water, quiet and slightly panting.
Turnrin followed the girl a bit peeved that she didn't answer his question. Regardless though he made several more attempts at conversation over the course of the short walk. Each time he brought up a new topic however, he got no response from his new acquaintance.
He was starting to get just a little frustrated by the time they arrived at the stream, and he was about to voice his annoyance when he noticed that something seemed off with the girl. She sat down heavily, and she looked out of breath, almost exhausted.
The monk's irritation at her was replaced almost immediately with concern, a well as a certain ire towards himself. How had he have missed the signs that she was pushing herself? First her injury and now this? The brothers back at the monastery had always told Turnrin that he had a nasty tendency to not pay attention to the people around him. They were, he was finding out more and more, accurate in their assessment.
Quickly he knelt by the girl, "Let me see that arm," he told her sharply. "I told you I should have treated it back there. Why were you being stubborn?"
Now after the both had reached the place Felinn had chosen she eased up a bit. When Turnin asked her for her arm, she willingly held it out to him, smiled at him again and answered, still a bit out of breath:
"It's better... to go on as long as you still can. Once you sit down, it gets even harder to stand up again." She pointed to the environment with her intact arm.
They were at the bottom of a small vale, where the stream lively burbled over little rocks and around some bigger boulders. The water was about six feet wide and it seemed possible to wade to the other side at many places.
The vegetation was more dense down here at the water, but still spread out enough that you could see when something should come near.
You could still hear the roaring of the Connlaothian winds, but because of the situation in the vale and the vegetation they were not as strong at the resting pace.
"And... we have less wind, fresh water. We can stay here for the night."
((modified post to add description of the environment))
Felinn's words made Turnrin look away from her arm to scope out the environment. The sheltered clearing by the stream did seem like a good place to stay.
Grudgingly, he had to admit that she had a good point. "Alright I see what you mean. But please give me reasons like that beforehand. It helps to explain things so that we can avoid misunderstandings, okay?"Once he was sure that Felinn understood, he moved on.
"Alright. Now, let me take a look at that arm. Can you take off your jacket for me? I can't see your injury properly." He stood up. "While you're doing that, I'm gonna go grab some water."
Turnrin pulled out a clean linen from his pack and walked over to the stream. The running water looked clean, so he decided to use it. He soaked the cloth in the stream and then walked back to Felinn. "You ready?" he asked her.
While Turnrin went to the water, Felinn began to unwrap the leather strip that she had bound around her arm. When she came to her wound, she clenched her teeth and stopped breathing for a moment while unwrapping it further, but no sound of pain was heard from her.
After the leather strip was loose, she carefully took off her jacket, put it away where it would not be in the way and rolled up her sleeves.
The wound was at her left forearm, the cougar had teared a chunk of flesh out of it, the bite marks clearly could be seen. Now that no more cloth and bindings were around her arm, the wound again began to bleed. It sure did hurt, but at first view the bone seemed to be uninjured and the wound seemed to be not too severe.
When Turnrin came back she looked at him and nodded slightly to his question. For a moment Felinn drew breath and nearly started telling him that he did not have to do this, but then she just smiled and nodded again.
The woman didn't give a vocal response, but the smile and nod was enough for Turnrin. He carefully, grabbed her arm and set about inspecting the wound. There was a bit of flesh missing, and it was bleeding pretty badly.
Gingerly, Turnrin used the damp cloth to soak the wound a bit, before setting it down. He then grabbed one of his poultices, spread it across the injured area and let it set in, before finally reaching for more clean cloths. He wrapped the bandage around her arm, perhaps a little inexpertly but it got the job done.
"There," he said. "How's that?"
"That... that's good... I think." While the expression on her face had been strained during Turnrins treatment, she now smiled slightly again. With her intact arm she tugged a bit at the bandage, until she was happy.
Then she looked to the dead cougar that laid on the ground a few steps away and sighed quietly. "I think... i will see to it right now so it doesn't.... go to waste."
Felinn stood up and walked over to the carcass. Her movements appeared exhausted, but she forced herself to go on, to do what had to be done before she really could rest. "Do you.... have to go on? Or will you stay for a while?"
She looked up and down the stream for a moment. "If you stay... I will do it downstream a few paces... Or the drop-offs will attract other beasts of prey to our rest place."
When the girl got up, Turnrin seriously considered telling her to stop and rest her arm.
He did, however, see her point. It would be bad to let the cougar spoil. He stood up and walked over to her and the animal carcass, and he responded when she asked her question. "I think I'll stick around," he still hadn't gotten all the answer he wanted out of her yet.
"And if you're gonna move this then let me help." he crouched down next to the cougar. "I know I don't look all that strong but I'm pretty sure I can at least help," he grabbed the animal's hind legs, ready to assist her in moving the cougar downstream.
Felinn looked him up and down when he offered to help, trying to estimate his strength, but then just nodded, grabbed the front legs of the dead cougar and then lifted the front of the animal without another word.
She waited until Turnrin also had lifted his part and then slowly began to walk downstream. She refrained from giving instructions or asking whether the man could still hold his part, but from time to time she looked back to him to see if everything was alright.
She also didn't try to begin a conversation. Her attention was mainly on the environment and the path they had to go.
Her breathing soon was a bit strained again, but still she did not slow down as long as Turnin could still follow and didn't stop until the two had covered a few dozen paces. Then she turned around to Turnrin, nodded him and indicated to put the carcass down.
When the animal was on the ground again, she drew her dagger and began to work on her prey.
It was a bit harder than the monk would have liked to admit, but together he and his new acquaintance moved the cougar's body downstream. It took most of his focus to complete the task, and he didn't try to talk at all, though he did make a few grunting noises whenever he had to step over a particularly bothersome obstacle.
Once she gave the signal, Turnrin slowly dropped the animal's body, letting out a sigh of relief as he did so and sitting down on the bank. When the girl pulled out her dagger and went to work, Turnrin actually began looking close. "Interesting," he mumbled, mostly to himself. "Most interesting."
The monk pulled a small notebook from his robes as well and a quill, a small vial of ink, and a piece of charcoal. As the girl worked, Turnrin rapidly took noted on what he saw, and e drew some diagrams as well using the charcoal. All of this was going to make an excellent addition to his catalogue.
When Turnrin took out his writing utensils, Felinn looked up to see what he was doing. But after a moment, without a question she continued her work.
Her cuts were clean and done with great experience. Also the way of her cuts was not arbitrary, but she used a technique that was taught by the Connlaothian scholars in the recent past that was supposed to maintain the overall quality of the meat and ensure a clean result with as small as possible a chance for diseases.
That didn't mean that her work was not messy. Felinn didn't mind it, but the blood and the sight and smell of the organs she removed was none too pleasant.
When Felinn had removed the internal organs and sorted them by edible, useable and useless, she dragged the dressed cougar a bit nearer to the water and cleaned it from the in- and outside.
Finally, she buried the useless parts under a thin layer of dirt and some stones.
When her work was done, she turned back to Turnrin, stepped up to him and tried to get a look at what he had written or drawn to his notebook.
The smells and the sights of the next few minutes made Turnrin blanche a bit, and gag some, but he kept faithful notes of his observations. The entire process was fascinating, and the monk watched each step with increasing admiration for the girl's skill. She clearly knew what she was doing, and it was quite impressive.
When she finished up her task and showed interest in seeing his notes, he gladly showed her the product of his own work. "Not as impressive as putting food on the table," he laughed gesturing at the cleaned carcass, "but it's a living. They're just my observations about the cougar as an animal, and what it's insides are like."
Turnrin assumed the girl couldn't actually read the notes, most people couldn't, so he felt a need to explain what it was he had written down.
Felinn continued inspecting Turnrins notes fore some more moments without answering, then turned her gaze to him and regarded him from head to toe again still without speaking. Her look was very interested, almost as if she was looking at him for the first time.
"So... is this what you were doing... when the cougar tried to get you? Why are you... doing this?" While talking, she finally turned away from Turnrin to go back to the dressed cougar, then looked at him to see if he would pack up his utensils and again help her carrying the carcass.
The girl's question made Turnrin stop to think. It wasn't that he didn't know the reason he was creating his catalogue, he just needed to come up with a way to explain it. By the time he'd composed a response, she was standing next to the cougar's corpse, looking at him expectantly.
He started putting his equipment away. "I'll tell you what, I'll explain after we move this back," he stated while walking over to the animal. He once again grabbed the hind legs, ready to assist in moving the cougar.
Felinn grabbed the front legs of the cougar, and together with Turnrin, they made their way back to the designated resting place. The cougar was not as heavy as before, now that all unusable parts were removed, but as they neared their destination, it became apparent, that Felinn finally reached the end of her strength.
But obviously she was not yet finished with her work. As soon as the cougar was put down, Felinn started to walk away again.
"Just... wait here. I will be back soon"
And without looking back or waiting for an answer she disappeared into the brushwood. A moment later nothing of her could be heard or seen anymore.
...
The sun slowly began to set and the day neared it's end, but Felinn took her time. It was about half an hour later, before Felinn without a warning stepped out of the brushwood again. She carried a bag on her back and had some additional small pouches tied to her belt that had not been there before.
When she had reached the resting place, she looked around for a moment, if everything was alright here.
Moving the cougar with the girl drained Turnrin of most of his energy, and he sat down heavily after they were done. He looked at the girl when she started speaking, and he almost made a move to follow her when she left, but she was out of sight by the time he had stood up, so he didn't bother. His tracking skills weren't exactly top notch.
He sat back down with his back against a tree, and closed his eyes, thinking about the past few hours. The action was starting to catch up to him, and his shoulder was hurting where the cougar had pounced on him. He sighed, and before he even realized it, the monk had nodded off.
When she noticed the sleeping man Felinn smiled and even chuckled quietly to herself. She really could understand him. She was tired herself, but while living alone in the wild she had formed a habit of not letting things unfinished before allowing herself to rest. Fortunantely the most tiring work had already been done and the meat of the cougar could wait until tomorrow before she had to deal with it. So only some small and pleasant things remained.
She let Turnrin sleep and first looked around the camp within a small radius. When she found nothing of importance, she took off her weapons and the pouches from her belt. Her bag she already had dropped a while earlier. Her shoes were the next that came off, immediately followed by her jacket and tunic. Both of them were stained with blood and teared where the cougar had bitten her arm.
Wearing no clothes but her breeches, she knelt down at the stream and began cleaning her jacket and tunic. When she had finished this as good as possible she hung her clothes over some branches to dry and again returned to the water.
For a moment she just knelt there, breathing deeply and listening into the forest. The winds still blew and the night promised to become chilly, but for the moment Felinn didn't mind. She began washing her hands with calm movements, then she took some water with her hands and drank slowly. The water was clear and quite cold.
Finally she began washing her hair that was still a mess with blood and dirt. Felinn worked very leisurely and enjoyed it. Most of her live now was occupied by somehow trying to survive, so she valued the moments when she could do something just for her pleasure. Regardless of how small these things seemed when looking at them rationally.
When Felinn was finished, she took her jacket that fortunately was mostly dry, curled up on the bare ground at the roots of a big tree, covered herself with her jacket, closed her eyes and fell asleep.
As usual her sleep was not very deep. Living alone in the wild it was important for her not to be caught off guard even when sleeping. So even quiet sounds woke her enough to find out the reason before she again continued to sleep. But nothing special happened this night.
When the new day was dawning, Felinn woke up and opened her eyes. For a moment she remained curled up at her sleeping place and just looked into the forest. But she didn't allow herself to rest much longer and soon got up and walked over to the stream, still wearing no clothes but her breeches. She shivered slightly in the cold morning breeze, but from time to time she needed to feel the harsh wild to get her going.
As the evening before she knelt down, drank a little water and washed her face. Then she stood up again and began collecting some dry gras and branches to make a fire.
Turnrin slept fitfully, he kept having dreams that a massive tabby cat was trying to eat him, but he managed to doze through the entire night.
He awakened earlier than usual, probably a byproduct of falling asleep in the late afternoon as opposed to his usual sleep schedule, and sat up with a huge yawn. He took stock of his surroundings, and for a moment he was too tired to remember how he'd ended up resting with his back against a tree.
He was able to recall after a few more moments of sitting down, and that mystery solved, the monk set about trying to stand up. It proved treacherous the first time, he rose too quickly and all the blood rushed to his head, but after sitting down again for a bit he was able to right himself without falling over again.
Turnrin searched his surroundings for his new acquaintance. What was her name again? With a start, the monk realized that he had never gotten her name, it had slipped his mind completely. He saw some of her belongings so she was probably nearby. His suspicion was confirmed when he saw her walk back into camp with kindling for a fire. ((OOC: just kinda going off what you said she was doing before. A little bit of a presumption but I hope you don't mind ;)))
Now, the first thing Turnrin noticed when he caught sight of her was that she was looking much better this morning. Ok, in all honesty, that wasn't the first thing. The first thing he noticed was that she wasn't wearing her tunic. His noticing of the rest of her condition, however, came almost instantaneously after, so it was close enough to count as the first thing he noticed.
At least, that's the rationale that Turnrin reasoned out in his head as he turned around, blushing profusely. "Good morning," he called over his shoulder, "you seem to have, ah, misplaced your garments somehow."
His words came out stutteringly, and it was obvious that the monk was very, very uncomfortable.
"Good morning!" she answered the greeting cheerfully.
"No, I didn't misplace them, but my things are still wet from washing, so... oh... oooh..." It took a moment, before Felinn realized that she was topless, and that this maybe was not proper when camping with an acquaintance. But she was so used to living on her own for the recent months that this thought just hadn't occurred to her when she had begun her morning work. She blushed heavily and looked around to find where she had put her clothes.
"I... sorry, I haven't... I didn't... Just wait a moment. If it bothers you... I will put them on... It... should be all right... they are not really wet anymore, and it is not too cold, so... "
When Felinn finally saw her clothes, she quickly began walking over to them, but then realized that she still was carrying the fuel for the fire.
"Oh... sorry, it will take a moment."
She turned around, walked over to the place where she had planned to start the fire and put down the gras and branches. This in turn took some time because somehow it seemed inefficient to her to just throw the stuff down. So she directly began preparing the fire to be easily ignited.
Turnrin heard the girl set down something, probably the firewood she'd been carrying, but he didn't hear the tell-tale rustling of someone slipping on a garment. The crackling of wood kept comin from behind him, so he figure that she was setting up the fire.
Turnrin listsened for a moment longer before he decided to try distracting himself from what was going on behind him. He ran his thoughts, and during the course of his contemplation he realized that the girl had never told him her name. "Uh," he spoke over his shoulder again, "I don't think I ever got your name. Do you mind telling me? It would make conversation a lot easier."
Felinn continued preparing the fire while she answered:
"Hmmm... why would it be easier to talk, when knowing my name? Just call me what you want."
A light giggle could be heard from the young woman.
"I think I will call you... bookworm. No... that does not really fit. Hmmm... The cataloguer! Yes. This... is what you are doing, am I right?"
When she finally had completed preparing the fire, she stood up again and walked over to her clothes. There she took her tunic that was still a little clammy, but put it on nevertheless.
"Alright... I am fine again. I hope you are hungry."
Reassured that the girl was once again decent, Turnrin faced her again. Her proposal to call each other by whatever name pleased them put the monk in some consternation. It was just odd to not know the someone's name...
But he didn't want to force the issue, and she already had a nickname for him. He thought about what she had called him, "the cataloguer", and it didn't take a large stretch of the imagination for him to decide what he wanted to call her. "Alright then. I guess I'll refer to you as Huntress, since that's what you do, I'm guessing."
He moved towards the fire, now with a grin on his face at the prospect of food, "Oh, and I'm very hungry, actually."
Felinn smiled and nodded when Turnrin decided about what he wanted to call her. "Huntress... that's interesting." Again she giggled quitely. "Although... I understand why you choose to call me that. But we could still change our names later, if we think they do not fit anymore."
She took one of her small pouches, went over to where she had prepared the wood for the fire an took out two stones and a piece of tinder fungus. One of the stones, a flint, was light grey and slightly transparent, the other, a pyrite, glimmered metallic and she used a piece of leather to hold it. Then she began striking sparks onto the tinder fungus. She clearly was proficient with this, but the pyrite seemed to cause her discomfort. Even her hair, that had shimmered in a bright golden color until now, seemed to loose its gloss and turned to a dull grey-blond while she was busy lighting the fire.
Nevertheless it took her just a few minutes until the fire began to burn. Relived she put away the stones and at once her hair got back some of its golden tone. Then she began cutting a few stripes of meat from the cougar and roasting them on spits while she jointed the rest of the cougar.
During her work she once again did not try to start a conversation by herself.
"I guess we can..." Turnrin said in response to the girl's words, though he didn't sound as if he was too sure. He was going to say more, but something stopped him. The girl looked like she was working intently, and the monk decided not to say anything so as not to bother her.
Usually he was more chatty, but he was actually pretty busy himself at the moment observing the changes in the girl's hair. He was fascinated by the varieties of colors she exhibited, and he pulled out his notebook again so he could start recording the different shades and hues that he noticed.
When she finished starting the fire, Turnrin asked her a question. "Why does starting a fire make your hair change to that duller color?"
"I..." Felinn hesitated and regarded Turnrin for a moment.
"I don't really know. But... but I am no mage! I was tested!" The affirmation seemed really important to her and she looked anxious to The Cataloguer while shadows began to darken her hair slightly.
"It's just..." She again took out the pyrite using the piece of leather from before and immediately put the stone on the ground an arm's length away from her. "... some materials don't agree with me. A firesteel would be much better to make fire, but that would... kind of.... burn my hand. So... the fool's gold is the best trade-off for me to make fire. But I still have to be... be careful with it. My mother... she told me, many of her people have this condition."
Turnrin furrowed his brow. Clearly the girl was magical in someway, though he could understand her insistence to the contrary considering her home country. However the traits she was exhibiting were oddly specific. Was it possible? What was in fool's gold? He'd probably read it somewhere...
He racked his brain but it was no use. He wasn't an alchemist, he much preferred studying living things. Well, there was still one way to prove his hunch. It wouldn't be fun, but necessary things often weren't...
Slowly, gingerly, Turnrin tapped the fool's gold with his ring finger. He pulled away the appendage instantly, as if the rock was very hot, and indeed there was a slight burning sensation where his skin had touched the rock. There was definitely iron in the rock, and the Huntresses' reaction meant that she had at least some Fae heritage.
"Tell me, Huntress, is it at all possible that your mother was born in another country?"
Felinn watched Turnrin surprised when he tried to touch the pyrite and was obviously hurt by it. Then she nodded slightly to his question. "She was... brought here from... from Serendipity. Are you..." again she hesitated a moment and pointed to the stone, "... Are you... also tainted?"
When asking her question, she seemed to shrink down a bit and her hair lost even more of its color. It was just not respectable to ask such a question, but she had to know.
It took Turnrin a moment to figure out what the girl meant. His brow furrowed as he tried to think of a proper response to her question. How best to explain magic to this girl, who only saw it as a curse?
Slowly, picking his words very carefully, the monk began to speak. "What you and I both share Huntress, is nothing to be ashamed of. I know in Connlaoth it is considered a sin and a curse, but there are other parts of the world where it is not seen as such. Take for example Serendipity, the country that your mother," he paused for a moment, and then said with emphasis, "and I hale from."
He let that sink in for a moment before he continued. "Many in Serendipity are what Connlaothians consider tainted, and our society functions just fine. We don't see this trait as a curse, rather it is a gift passed down from our Fae ancestors. I'm not saying that the Connlaothian belief system is wrong, but I do believe that for a child of Serendipity, like yourself, Connlaothian values simply do not work."
"But... but they say, magic is dangerous. No-one can really control and handle it. They say, all the time people are dying because of accidents and occurrences with magic. And we... who are tainted... they say, we can never know when there is a magic outburst in us that will kill everyone around us. It... has to be a curse."
The words sounded like a phrase that Felinn just repeated because she had heard it uncountable times. Of course she knew all the stories, all the arguments. But did she really believe it? Felinn even didn't know herself. But it had to be true... didn't it?
Felinn paused for a moment, thinking about what she just had said.
Then another thought crossed her mind and she looked to the monk. "Are you a mage?"
Turnrin looked back at the girl sadly. The rote speech she provided made his heart ache. How could an entire country be so wrong about something? But then again, that wasn't really fair. It wasn't their fault that their god had steered them so wrong.
"To answer you first question," Turnrin began in response to Felinn's concerns, "I am not a mage, in so much as I do not practice magic as a craft. However, like you, I have a singular magical characteristic that was most likely passed down to me through Fae ancestry. Allow me to demonstrate."
Turnrin focused for a moment, and then activated his ability. He slowly began to fade from sight until he was almost invisible, and then he let the magic go and he came suddenly back into full view. "Look, magic done and no calamity. Magic doesn't have to be dangerous. It all depends on who is using it, just like any other type of power."
Felinn watched unsettled as the Cataloguer almost disappeared and then came back to view. Then she shook her head slightly. "I.... don't know. It is... just... so elusive. How can you... how can anyone control something like this?"
"And... maybe we are the same insofar as we both are tainted. Maybe you even are right and... we... really have Fae ancestry." Felinn even trembled a bit, when she tried to wrap her mind around this.
"But I can do nothing like this."
Turnrin shrugged. "Magic is different for every person Huntress. It manifests in a different way for each individual, and not everyone understands it in the same sense. Still, their are people working to make sure that magic use is safe and responsible. There are whole guilds and organizations in Serendipity devoted to educating people about magic and keeping it's use safe."
Turnrin paused here for a moment. "Huntress, I think that maybe this would all make more sense if you saw it for yourself. Would you be willing to come South with me, to Serendipity?" Turnrin wasn't sure this was for the best, but Kia had to have a reason for putting him here and now. Maybe it was so he could bring this lost child home.
Instead of responding to Turnrins question, Felinn remained silent and looked into the flowing water of the little stream. Going to Serendipity. To her mother's home. To where more of her kind lived. Of the tainted...
She already had thought about this. Actually this was the reason why she was traveling south. At least when she was traveling. She just had not been in a hurry until now. She did not even know if she really wanted to go. To leave Connlaoth. Her country of birth. Her forests. Her winds. Her wilderness.
To go to... to where? Serendipity. She did not really know something about the land of her mother. What would she find there?
The young woman looked up to the tree tops that were swaying in the Connlaothian winds, then answered without looking away from the trees. "What is Serendipity like? Is it... nice? Are there ...Forests? ...Cities? Mountains, Hills? ... ... Wind?"
Turnrin nodded along as the Huntress spoke. "There are, all of those things. But, well, they are different. The forests are still by definition forests, but there are different plants and animals living in them. Cities are different too, of course. I guess the mountains and hills are the same, but the wind, that's different. It's nowhere near as strong in Serendipity as it is here in Connlaoth."
Turnrin paused for a moment to make sure that the Huntress was getting all this. "Now, I know this sounds frightening, but different doesn't mean worse. Just because things in Serendipity might be slightly different doesn't mean that they're not as good as they are here. I think that you need to experience these things for yourself to understand."
Felinn silently listened to his descriptions, still looking into the trees. Then she nodded slightly. Probably he was right, and she really had to see for herself. But... was she ready? She just did not know.
The young woman looked into the water again and tried to consider all the possibilities.
Would the Cataloguer go back to Serendipity at once? Or had he still business here?
How far was it even to the border? Felinn had traveled south for some time, but actually she was not sure, where exactly she was situated at the moment.
And how difficult would it be to cross the border? When she remembered correctly, there were mountains between the countries. Would they have to cross them? Or was there an alternative? And... with the current situation with the anti-mage unrests... Would they be allowed to just leave Serendipity? Two... Tainted ones?
Felinn looked to her travel companion to-be. She began regarding him, still without saying a word.
She could not really imagine how The Cataloguer would cope with traveling through the wilds. He... did not really look like made for it. Or would he want to travel on the trade routes? Maybe... even by carriage? With a group of traders? With a caravan? Would she have to stay and rest in towns? She did not even have money. How should she pay the costs?
Thinking about this she was not even sure she wanted to do this. Going back into... civilization. A sarcastic smile crossed her face and she shook her head slightly.
There was so much to think about... so much uncertainty. But somehow... she did not want to talk to him about all this. It was just too much to talk. Too much to tell him about herself.
Her face got serious again. Somehow she really wanted to do it. It would be... interesting. Something new. And if it would not work... she just could leave him again.
Yes. Yes, she would do it. She would try it and see where this new path would lead her. Felinn nodded her head and finally began to speak again: "I will go with you. Where... will we go next?"
Turnrin looked at the girl, uncertainty momentarily clouding his eyes. "Well to be perfectly honest with you Huntress, I haven't exactly been following a strict travel path. I've kind of just been wandering my way along." He paused for a moment, considering, and then he pulled a rolled piece of parchment from his pack. He unravelled it and held it out so Felinn could see. Inscribed on the parchment in ink was a crude map of Connlaoth.
"I picked up this map sometime ago, but I haven't really been using it of late since it's proven to be incorrect a number of times. I don't know if it's out of date or if the cartographer who made it did a shoddy job, but it's not entirely accurate." He scratched his bald head. "Still, I guess it's a better place to start than from nowhere."
Turnrin fell silent for a few moments as he looked over the piece of parchment for a few moments. "Here," he pointed to a black dot on the map. This town, Karsin, I passed through here a few days ago. That means we're in Orchy right now." Turnrin made nothing of the fact that he wasn't even aware which Connlaothian duchy he was in. "That means we only need to make it through the rest of Orchy and Ardal to get to Serendipity. That's not too far."
"So, I guess we just start walking south? By the looks of it, you don't need much help surviving in the wilderness, and somehow I don't think that you and me need to come into contact with any more people than absolutely necessary."
Felinn looked into the map while her companion showed here where they were and where they had to go but said nothing. Reading maps was one of the things she never was taught and which she also had not much interest in. So she also could not make anything out of the distances that could be seen on the map.
When Turnrin reasoned about being in Orchy at the moment, Felinn nodded slightly and continued to listen.
Finally she answered after Turnrin had announced their next steps. "Yes, let's do this. Just walking south... seams reasonable enough for now. And yes, I think will be able to provide food... and safe places to sleep for us two. It really would be fine to travel without meeting too much people... that is... if it is alright for you too."
"But first... let's eat something to get some strength... and before the meat finally burns." She smiled and took a few of the spits with cougar meat out of the fire, now well done, and gave two of them to the monk.
Then she began eating herself, quite decent without too much smacking and als keeping her clothes clean. But nonetheless, the meat vanished really fast into her mouth. When Turnrin had eaten up his current share, she quickly would offer him more.
And for the moment, Felinn did not seem to have more need to talk.
"Eating, now that does sounds like a good idea." Turnrin happily accepted the food from the girl. He bit into it heartily, though maybe not as heartily as his companion, and worked though the meat steadily. He didn't finish his piece as quickly as the Huntress, but he thought that he made good time.
He made a few awkward attempts at conversation as they ate, but none of them really picked up steam, so he eventually gave up. He munched through the two pieces he'd been given, and then accepted another from the girl. After finishing that piece, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and made another attempt to make small talk. Say what you want of Turnrin, it wasn't easy to keep him down.
"This is really good meat. I didn't think that a big cat could taste like this. Have you eaten cougar before? Or is this your first catch?"
Felinn smiled. "Yes, cougar tastes quite good. I have had it one more time since... since I am in the woods all alone. And a few times before that. But not really that often. There is... easier prey to hunt. Mostly I go for rabbits or similar animals. They also are a better size for one person alone."
Turnrin nodded. The girls reasoning was sound. It also gave him a thought. "Wait, so were you going after that cougar originally then? Or were you just saving me?"
Turnrin wasn't sure which answer he wanted to hear. On one hand, it would be upsetting to know that he made Felinn put herself in danger on his behalf, and on the other, it would be a bit demoralizing to hear that his rescue was an accident.
"I was already hunting the cougar for a few days. It had been overhunting and took away my prey. So I tracked it down."
Felinn paused a moment. Not to think about what Turnrin would want to hear or how he would react, but to recollect what had happened during the hunt. It always was a little blurry for her when she thought about it afterwards.
"To be honest, I think I did not really notice you in the underbrush at first. Not until you made too much noise, that was when I noticed something had to be there, as did the cougar. But we still did not really recognize that it was you. I think... you were doing your thing... so we could not see you."
A bit of a red sheen returned to her hair when she thought about the hunt again and she smiled slightly.
"But it was not right for the cougar to be the hunter, when I had come to hunt it down. So I took it down before it could get to you."
The Huntress' smile got wider to a cheeky grin and finally she even giggled lightly.
"I think, at first I wanted to get you as my next kill, because the cougar had chosen to get after you. So it would have been the right thing. But... somehow you were not appetizing enough."
Turnrin listened to the short speech with a bit of confusion. He didn't really understand the Huntress' motivation, but he wasn't usually one to question the lifestyles of others. Most people seemed to have a hard enough time understanding his after all!
When she got to the end the monk's eyes widened with shock. He thought for a second that she was serious, but then the laugh registered. The monk laughed a bit to, though in a nervous fashion. "Hah, that's uh, that's a funny joke I guess," he said carefully. He hoped it was a joke.
Quickly, before the Huntress could speak in case she was going to correct him, Turnrin stood up. "So are you ready to start out?" he asked her. "It would be smart to get moving, I think. We have a lot of distance to cover, and the more we make each day the faster the trip."