Spirits of the Earth

Kieta sat in the protection of a wayward pine, checking over the small bundle of her belongings, all of which still felt oddly foreign to her in this new world. She yearned to find a faerie circle to step into, and to return to the Otherworld where her brothers would be awaiting. Being in this new world rankled her, with all its foreign smells, sounds, and structures. Each time she stepped foot into one of their "cities" her skin would crawl, having never encountered such enclosed spaces in all of her life. The Otherworld, well the part she and her clan inhabited, was only enclosed in the sense of forests and fields. The only structure to speak of was the castle of the Queen and King, but their court was designed as an open structure. Kieta's first, and very brief, experience of a city in Connlaoth had lasted a grand total of a half hour, out of sheer curiosity. She had initially thought that the structures were some weird sort of plants or rocks, but had found instead that they were rather constructed from the corpses of trees and rocks.

She had been in this world for a few months now, and found that she was most comfortable visiting small villages nestled into the valleys and wilderness. Quickly she became known for her talents in traversing wilderness areas others could not, and for being discrete. She would travel from forest to forest, guiding traveling parties or transporting things of importance. Her mastery of the language was faulty at best, and her understanding of how things worked was lacking even more. Somebody had called her "naive" or "innocent" in their odd tongue, and she understood it as an insult. Of course she would come across as such! There were concepts and behaviors of this world that were so alien to her that it would most likely take her years to understand them. Like this odd obsession between "good" and "evil". Certainly there were dark and light fae, but neither was "good" or "evil". It was commonly understood that all creatures had a mix of both, some with tendencies towards one end of the spectrum over the other...

Kieta scowled and brought herself out of her internal criticisms, eyeing the parcel on the earth before her. Two weeks prior, a man had sought her out in the forest, and had requested that she transport this parcel across the wilderness and to a correspondent in Matron's Hallow, and now she sat a half a day's journey away. Shoving the parcel into the bottom of her pack, Kieta shouldered it and her bow and quiver. She took a swig of her water, thrusting her dirk into its sheath at her side, she took off towards Matron's Hallow.

By late afternoon Kieta had made it to the outskirts of what to her seemed a city of monolithic proportions. Taking out the parchment of instructions on where to meet the correspondent, she found her way to a busier intersection of a road, just outside of the city. The man had said that she should encounter a bread seller, who would then fetch the individual responsible for collecting the parcel. This all according to her one rule, that she refused to enter cities. If individuals wanted to do business with her, they would have to arrange it on the outskirts and surrounding forests of cities. Covering her ears with her hair to avoid undue attention, her eyes darted around in search of the bread man. To her keen senses, this intersection was overwhelming... She couldn't seem to focus on one thing at a time, and she found herself overly distracted, unable to separate out the different individuals.

The slightest of tugs, and the loosening of muscles on her back and shoulders... The smell of smoked meats... And then the receding back of an individual running off with her pack and into the city. She watched incredulously, having never encountered a pick-pocket or thief before of this variety, cursing in her own language, and then following it up with a confused, "But that's mine!"

She was at war with herself... She knew she would be in trouble if the recipient did not receive the parcel, and that trouble might somehow make it onto the Otherworld radar. And that would mean an intense time of being hunted, one which might end negatively for her. Cursing again, she righted the bow and quiver and took off after the thief and into the crowd, feeling blind amongst the overwhelming sensory overload, clutching desperately to the clinging scent of smoked meats on the individual.

Ducking through the crowds, she kept up with him until he thought he had lost her. Instead of confronting him in front of the unpredictable crowds, she decided that she would follow him to wherever it was he was going...

She saw the strap of her pack disappear into an alley way, into which she followed stealthily. One thing was certain, was that she was extremely adept at keeping her movements silent. Part of why the people in the realm seemed to use her skills... But as she watched a door slam shut, she realized that dealing with these sorts of structures was foreign to her. Eyeing the side of the building, she searched for footholds, quickly climbing the structure and to a window. Looking inside as best she could, Kieta pried the window open and slid inside. Hearing the footsteps of the man she had been tracking, Kieta took her bow and notched an arrow, aiming it at the stairwell. As the thief topped the steps, the blood drained from her face, noting the other men. Swallowing her doubts, she squared her feet and yelled at him. "Pack is mine. Give it or I shoot!"

The thief looked surprised, as did his companions. "How the fuck...? Lads, this is the target I just stole from!"

One of the other men took a good look at her, smirking, "Well, looks like we might be stealin' more from 'er than that pack. Now, come her sweets, put down that, don't be silly."

Kieta growled low in her throat, not liking the tone of the men, but not liking her odds either... She feigned lowering the bow for a minute, taking the time to note her potential exit points, before shooting off two arrows rapidly, hitting both the thief and one of his accomplices. Running quickly, she side-stepped their arms and snatched up her pack and made for a doorway, ducking in and slamming the door, turning the lock quickly... Of course it was a windowless room! As the men pounded on the door, she looked about in panic, before noticing a small door in the wall... Opening the door, she noticed what looked like a crawlspace. Just as the door to the room burst open, she squeezed herself into the crawl space and instantly found herself plummeting downwards.

The dumbwaiter broke the force of her weight, all the way until she smelled the soil and knew it was bringing her below ground. When she finally hit bottom, she toppled backwards out of the dumbwaiter and onto something soft, thoroughly disoriented...

Trest was picking his teeth, but if you asked him, he'd deny it. But there had been some gristle stuck since dinner, and there was one thing he overly pride himself in, and it was his devilishly handsome good looks. His teeth's health were than of equal importance, and the new fad of 'brushing' one's teeth was not lost on him. So when the pesky gristle remained lodged, he kept at it, gums bleeding a little until finally, the tooth pick dug in at just the right angle and the gristle was freed.

Sinking back into his chair, he sighed with relief, took a few seconds to look at his face in the small, desk mirror again before inspecting how a small shaving nick from yesterday was healing. And considering all things on his check list were accounted for (as he just did his book keeping thrice now since supper), Trest, also known to his fellow thieves as 'The Hawk', was positively bored.

Perhaps he should have taken that last assignment for himself, but at the time he didn't want to be bothered. After all, he hadn't slept a wink that night and had a few more than eager new recruits who wanted a job. But though he as growing complacent being behind the desk rather than working out 'in the field', he did miss the thrill of thievery- though not entirely the guilt. At least where he was, with boots propped up on his desk and relaxed back, the guilt was only second hand, so much easier to stomach.

Besides, jobs were jobs, right? Everyone had their place and it just so happened he fell into the thieving category. And not just any thief! But a leader among them! So, while dreadfully bored, he flipped open a drawer near his side and leafed through some items that were in there. Pulling out a small, green leather book; he flipped to the marked page and tried to resume where he had left off, and soon was immersing himself so deeply into his novel that his nose was basically stuffed into the pages and...
Moments later, he was snoring.

He must have needed more sleep than he thought, for the sudden, rattling fall of the dumbwaiter  hadn't stirred him, and in fact, it just so happened at the same time he elicited a loud snore. So perhaps it was that drowning out the woman's ungraceful consequential actions of adventuring into unknown territory...

But the sleeping Hawk was none the wiser, head slumped over into his book, one arm resting over his belly, and worn, leather boots propped upon the desk. And if it weren't for the sporadically paced snores, he might look partially dead the way he was draped and almost unmoving.

Kieta did not give herself much time to recover from the fall, groaning softly under her breath as she grabbed the edge of the dumbwaiter opening to hoist herself off the rug of the floor. Her eyes flitted to the floor to find her bow rent in two, and a growl of frustration exited her throat. She'd have to extract the unicorn and kelpie hairs from the wood of the bow, if she wanted to preserve the luck. And she didn't even want to begin to think about the hours of time she would have to spend finding the right wood, or the days it would take to weave the proper spell work on another bow...

After this brief appraisal, Kieta surveyed the room, the ringing in her ears from her drop down the dumbwaiter shaft receding and being replaced by a rumbling noise... Alongside the vibrations of the men above descending the building. Snoring? Was that snoring that she heard? Kieta located the source of the snoring, following it into a small room that was attached to the hall she had been deposited unceremoniously into. Stepping silently into the room, the man, beyond all reason or explanation, was reclined lazily in slumber in a chair. Thinking quickly, Kieta pulled her dirk from its sheath, at the same time flicking her fingers in attempt to get some ivy vines to subdue him... But this damned place was so stiflingly dead and void of life, that she had to resort to using the wood of the chair to twist around his wrists. As the wood was painstakingly slowly closing in around his wrists, Kieta stepped behind him and pressed the dirk firmly to his neck.

As she did so, she heard the slamming of a door down the hall, and thunderous steps. She growled out to the man, "You move, I drain you of life." The men she had escaped earlier burst into the room, and she growled, the sound of an animal cornered, baring her teeth.

"No, Bethia, I don't want any more pie," he mumbled in his sleep, none the wiser that the wood he sat on was coming alive with magic. His dreams were peaceful, anyhow. And Bethia's pies were near lethal in their deliciousness. Even as it sealed around his wrists, binding him to his chair, he continued to snooze. But the second he heard the weapon being pulled his blue eyes opened and he jerked suddenly, aiming to reach for his own weapon when he realized...

"What the hell!?"

His wrists were strapped!? And now some strange woman was spitting threats nothing short of a rabid feline! And to top it off, his two new hires came exploding into the room. And when he caught the men's attention, Trest did not look pleased as his fingers drummed against his arm rest.

"You all have five seconds to explain this before I get mad."

Kieta scowled at the men from her place, the dirk still against the throat of the man, who to her irritation, seemed decidedly nonplussed about the situation, beyond his irritation with the other men.

The smaller man who had stolen from her was panting, a hand at his side where she had shot him with her arrow. "I was goin' bout my regular pick of the Brandy intersection outside o' the city gates, spotted this country bumpkin gawkin', and plucked her pack. Then this crazy bitch followed me back, and gods know how she ended up inside, but..."

One of the larger men, visibly bleeding from the arrow wound in his thigh, gestured angrily towards her, "She was in the fuckin' second story! And ain't no way she came through the first floor, she just... Magicked her way in! And she shot me n' Brady, then took off and broke the dumbwaiter!"

Kieta felt the grip on her magic waning, in this stifling place, and saw as the wood began to retreat back into the chair. She reacted by pressing the dirk more firmly into the skin of his neck, biting her lip nervously, knowing she was going to lose control of the situation quickly. She was out her element, in every sense of the word. 

"So... you're saying you pick pocketed a witch?" Trest asked, nonplussed.

"I'm sayin' its the only we she coulda even got in this place, boss!" the taller man protested. "There ain't no ladder to the second floor!"

"Yeah, and then she just attacked us, thinking to get her pack back...." the smaller explained.

"And... does she?"

"Does she what?"

"Does she have her pack back?" Trest repeated the question, a little more clearly.

"Well yeah-"

And Trest's irritated sigh halted him right there.

"What's in it gotta be expensive!"

"Yeah, worth tons in gold-"

"Wait..." At that, Trest's brow furrowed even more. "Are you saying you don't even know what you stole that's not longer stolen from you but is already in her possession now as we speak and now I have some blade to my throat because you nabbed a sack from the wrong broad?"

The men grew silent- and at that, Trest barked a laugh.

"So you're ill luck has fallen to me, well that's just swell. Consider this moment your employment terminated."

And the men only stared. And after a moment, Trest gestured with one hand. "Go on, get going. I have no use for thieves who steal me bad lucky!"

And they took a few minutes to look at each other before cringing, "But boss..."

Trest raised a brow. He still remained authoritative, even with the blade at his throat.

"No, no, not boss any longer. And you're trespassing. You have ten seconds to get out of here or I'll have the woman finish you off with more of her arrows."

That was enough to light a fire under their feet, and while stuttering out apologies, they scrambled out of the door. And once htey were alone, Trest sighed.

"So..." he said, not his attention could be focused to the other problem at hand. "How much gold will it take for you to get this blade off my neck?"

Kieta admired his control of the situation, feeling as if the events of the situation were somehow turning to her benefit, against all odds. Had the man used brute force, the dirk could have been off his neck and she in their control. But his way prevented any blood being shed, and quelled her anger over the situation. This sort of tact was smart in way she had not seen others of this world demonstrate.

With the wood retreating, almost to the point where he could potentially moved his arms again, she felt relieved to see the men go, but did not indicate this. She took a moment to formulate a response, her voice lilting and accented "No money, a task. This... trap, mess, thing made me miss to meet. You help with delivery. Do you make blood bargains for promises?" He didn't need to know that she now seriously needed somebody to help her navigate the city. "And I did not 'magic' my way, I climbed."

Feeling his wrists be released, he wriggled his fingers and anxiously tapped his feet.

"No money?" Trest frowned. "Lady, you have to realize, the world revolves around money. It can buy anything. Just name your price and I can cut you a bag of gold, no problem. Two bags, if you make this quick. I do have other engagements, you know, with better associates then the ones you've been unfortunately introduced." And he continued on with his business talk, not once looking at her for fear that, well...
He'd rather not see how sharp the knife was that was so close to his neck! And though he appeared cool and collected outward, internally he was sweating bullets.

Kieta listened to him, then cleared her throat, feigning that she was unconsciously pressing the dirk against his throat in thought. "I have made my demand, though I understand sleep is a very demanding 'engagement'. So much so, that I could break into this den, injure your pack, destroy objects, and hold you hostage, all while in your very important sleep engagement."

She tapped the blade against his neck, nicking the skin. "You want I should steepen my demands? Fair. You will give me coin enough to replace my bow, and supply me with another bow until I can craft a new one."

"Now I tell you why you will be my guide. See, you disrupted my delivery. If I cannot find man who I should deliver to, then I am in trouble. If I am in trouble, I certainly want to blame another... And as this is your fault in a manner, I shall need you present. Hold you accountable..." She paused, as if reflecting, "But, you can give me coin and I leave. Coin does not keep these people happy, though. They are rich with coin, but not time. So when it comes to time, I shall tell them where you are. You can try to run, but I can also find you again."

OOC: So I tried posting this on my phone a bit earlier and then my phone randomly dies. Ugh, need to look into a new phone or battery.

---

That was a low blow, though he knew it was true. Still didn't mean it didn't sting! But what physically stung was the nick to his neck, as he cringed.

"So you're holding me ransom now after my men failed to steal from you since you can't perform your own job properly?" he snorted. "At least you're not employed by me, because this definitely would have been your last day!"
And thinking about it being 'last days', he realized he needed to play it smooth, play it cool and try not to fall into the inferior position...
Though truthfully, he was at least a bit scared she would try to cut his throat open! And that seemed painful and inwardly, he cringed.

Wishing he could at least get a good look at her (cause hey, if she was going to be his killer, he at least wanted to see if she were hot...) he found himself guffawing.
"What's so important about you job anyway? Can't you see I've got my own problems? And really, you're just adding to the mix..."

Yeah, just keep it cool, he thought. Maybe she'll back down and take pity? A foolish thought, he knew, but he saw women cave for sillier things. Like crying babies that weren't even their own!

She tightened her jaw, her nose scrunching up as she glared holes in the back of his head. She did not do well with criticism. Especially not from men who stole from her. "I would have been able to handle my job just fine if scum like you and your men did not exist." She paused, and let out a short laugh. "And I am better at my job than your men and you are at your job. I was able to tail your man back here, easily, without him suspecting. I was able to climb into your building, shoot your men, and retrieve my pack." She smoothed the side of her free hand down his face, as if in affection as she finally cooed in his ear, "And don't forget our current situation, and what you failed at doing to land you in such a spot."

She felt a brief flush run over her body, making her pull away from his ear. She felt claustrophobic in this building, and the air was stale and dead. "And ransom is a strong word. I am holding you accountable. Not to mention you were a bargaining tool."

"It is my business, the importance. But know that those who hired me will not be pleased, and their displeasure trickles down. You are now in that trickle down."

Who was this man, anyways? His utter refusal to compromise was baffling, given his current situation. Releasing a sigh of frustration, she summoned what little magic she could to wrap the chair's wood around his wrists again. Finally taking the dirk away from his neck, she stepped out away from him and to the other side of the desk to face him. She leveled an irritated look at him.   "I can't risk wasting any more time on this. Really, you must be either very brave, or very stupid." Bending to pick up the broken pieces of her bow, she shoved them into the pack before slinging it over her shoulder. She could feel her stomach tying in knots, worrying about whether or not she would truly be in trouble with the late delivery... Perhaps she could go back to the intersection and find the bread man on the morrow when the sun came back up again?

She began walking to the door, "You will be released in... give or take half an hour or so. Don't struggle... Mahogany tends to bite, and I will not be here to tell it not to." Stopping in the doorway, she looked over her shoulder at him, "Do not think I will forget this."

Once she was in the hallway, Kieta caught the scent of fresh air and followed it up and out of the building and into the alley. Exiting the alley, she released a groan of frustration, looking out at the darkening streets of the city as she dug out the instructions from her pocket. There was nothing about who the bread man would bring other than a name, and she certainly couldn't go around asking for this person. And there was no help whatsoever in the form of a map. The best she could try to do would be to try and find her way back to the intersection she was originally meant to meet this person at, and wait until the next day.

She headed out, practically blind with all of her senses masked by the city sounds, smells, and vibrations, and not remembering the path from earlier since she had been in such a rush... But she was determined to try and find her way out of the city anyways.

When he finally got a look at her, his blue eyes took in every inch of her. He didn't really hide that fact, but he kept his nonplussed expression when his eyes returned to hers.
"Talk is cheap. But good luck with your job!" he said, calling after her disappearing form and with a sigh, he looked down at his bond hands and began to jerk and attempt to wriggle free. But the only 'bite' that came was how he was beginning to rub some of his skin raw. And with that, he sighed and leaned his head back in his chair, and began to hit it lightly before opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling.  Maybe he could simply stand up and walk around to get help? It seemed like a viable enough option, and soon he was scooting as far as he could to the end of his chair, and leaned forward, rocking on his heels before he found himself falling forward, and smashing his face into his desk.

And boy did it ever hurt! And that wasn't even all! For when he tried to get up, he felt himself slipping and, without having his hands to balance himself, he was soon crying as he crashed onto his side. And a moment later, he groaned.

"Maybe I should have been nicer." He shuffled uneasily. "I have to piss like no one's business."

And to pass the time, he tried scooting around like some snail, chair strapped to his body and more or less confining all movements greatly. And by the time he made it tot he door, he realized with a curse- he had no way to reach the door knob!

ANd so there he lay, but just as she 'promised' the spell was lifted and at a most unexpected time, cause in doing so caused him to fall forward, and smashed his face again.

Once he procured some ice, he wrapped it inside a clothe and held it to his nose, which was turning purple and swelling. And to top it off, he was getting a migraine and one of his men was late on a delivery. Now the value of the goods would be halved and he still had to deal with those two ex-employees. He had to make sure his associates knew they weren't part of his circle anymore. Disgruntled, former employees happened, and he was trying to be proactive.

It wouldn't take him long to figure out where they've gone- some Tavern called 'The Salty Pig' on near the east coast of Lake Matron. Unfortunately, the place wasn't near him, and as he made his way through the labyrinth of streets, he paused when he heard a pair of familiar voices and peeked down the alley he'd just passed.

And wasn't he surprised to see, all the way on the other end of it- those two men AND the magical, pointy eared girl! (for as much as she had tried to hide those features, Trest noticed them first (okay,.. maybe after her chest!) And for all he knew, from the looks of things- they were all in cahoots! That would figure they'd work together to one up him! Wouldn't they be sorry when they realized he was about to foil their plans!

But as he moved down the alley way, undetected, his ears picked up on something that sounded like a much different scenario than he'd imagined,  and soon he was slipping behind a crate, crouching int he shadows and watching as the men pulled weapons on the woman and demanded for her pack-
and something sinisterly more.

Gods above, she was miserably lost. She had been wandering the streets for an irritatingly long time, lost and increasingly aggravated. With her pack strap being cut earlier, she had to make do with tying the ends together, and awkwardly tucking it beneath her arm to carry it. She had since relocated her broken bow bits to her quiver, and she moved through the streets, sick with the smells, a pounding headache radiating from the bridge of her nose to the back of her head. Kieta was dragging her feet by the time she stumbled into an alleyway, truly believing that she would never escape the labyrinth of city streets. The most she could smell was a lake somewhere nearby, one she hoped was not surrounded by yet more city streets. Surely they could not surround an entire lake with this disgusting city? But if she could find the lake, perhaps she could find a river, and from the river she could find her way out of the city.

Groaning, she plopped down on the steps of a doorway, crossing her arms over her bent knees and resting her face. At least these alleys provided her with some quiet from the onslaught of the city. It was unnatural that even in the darkening streets, that people seemed to still be moving about. It was becoming increasingly apparent that city people were a far different breed than those of the small villages and towns she had been to. Even if she did manage to trace her way to the river, it would probably take all night! And then she would have to weave her way back to that damned intersection of the city. While she might have an excellent sense of direction out in the wilderness, that skill was apparently not transferable to cities.

The vibrations of heavy, uneven footsteps brought her attention, followed soon by the rancid smell of alcohol. A curse streamed from her lips as she leaped up and pulled her dirk out, shoving the pack into the doorway and standing in front of it. Squaring her shoulders, Kieta growled and bared her teeth as she watched the two men from earlier stumbling down the alley towards her.

"You do not learn, do you?" Gods she felt dizzy, but she stood her ground.

One of the men scoffed, hawking back in his throat before he spit viciously to the side. He slurred his words. "Lookie here. The bitch who got us canned. Lucky us, don't you think Brady?"

Brady grunted and smirked, "Wonder what happened to the boss? Don't matter really, we'll get him good, if you ain't got him already." He stuck a pinky in his mouth, and dug out a piece of meet from between his teeth, before flicking it her way. His partner, Gareth, moved to her other side, effectively flanking her into the doorway. They watched in amusement as Kieta extended her free arm back to try and jostle the doorknob.

Gareth smirked at her. "Without your hostage, how you plannin' on getting out of this pickle? Seems a mighty fine one." He dragged his sword out of its sheath lazily. "How'd you suppose she could get herself out o' this with her life, Brady?"

Brady pulled his own daggers from his belt, setting his feet apart in preparation to fight. "I think she oughta hand o'er her pack. Got sommut good in there, don't you, bitch?"

Kieta scowled, and flinched back as the tip of Gareth's sword came to rest on the top of her shirt, at the hollow between her breasts. "I think she's got sommut good beneath these clothes o' hers, too. I think she owes us a bit more'n that pack now."

Brady spat to the side and looked her up and down hungrily. "I like my wenches with a bit more... Meat on their bones. But this one'll do good enough."

Kieta was calculating her next action, sweat beading on her brow as she loosened and re-tightened her grip on her dirk... While they were busy ogling her body, she had been busy appraising theirs, looking for the signs of blood where she had shot them earlier. With one smooth movement, she ducked out beneath the sword, ignoring the feel of her shirt being ripped, kicking her heel into the arrow wound on Gareth's thigh... As she turned to stab Brady, he knocked her head heavily against the wall of the alley.

Kieta grunted and reeled from the blow, feeling a warmth at the back of her head as she righted herself. She took on Brady, and was holding her own until Gareth regained his composure, cursing and spitting as he slammed her against the bricks of the alleyway, his forearm pressed into her throat. His other hand reached in anger down to the buckle of her belt, and for the moment he was too angry to navigate unbuckling it  as she kicked and fought beneath him. If only there was some kind of wood, or water, or even a blade of grass she could use to help her! the most she could do in this stifling city was make them labor in breathing. She cursed and grunted, fighting to get out from under his arm, her nails digging into the man's forearm.

As the events unfolded before him, his assumptions were proven wrong. And despite wanting to chuckle that it was the woman's turn to be one upped, he realized the situation was as severe as the men's drinking problem and moving through the shadows, he came up behind the men. And before they knew what was happening, Trest was upon them.

"Lovely night for a stroll, ladies," and as the men turned, Trest wasted no time in cracking their heads together as the men stumbled to their knees, seeing stars. "Oh my, look at that. I guess both of your heads hard. Herr I wanted to see ifI could crack them like the rotten snake eggs you are.". And to the woman, he gave a nod..

"By the way, you owe me a new chair." He kind of broke it when he tried to escape.

Once she was released from the chokehold, Kieta stumbled against the wall of the alley, hand clutching her neck as she inhaled deeply, coughing violently. She knew there would be an ugly bruise to accompany the strangled feeling of her throat.

In utter shock she watched the same thief from before easily take out the two men, cracking their heads together. The strength it took to crack two men's heads together hard enough to knock them down was not a laughable matter, and she had not expected it of this particular man. She was experiencing something akin to delayed anxiety, realizing reflectively that she had been very, very lucky to catch him off-guard earlier. Now, if she encountered him out where there was nature, of course it'd be a different matter. She would have her magic.

When he looked to her, she noticed the one named Brady grabbing for her dirk, which she had dropped. Using the hand not clutched to her neck, she pushed herself away from the wall, grabbed the dirk, and then landed a solid kick to the man's jaw, effectively knocking him out.

Bending over double, she pressed her hands against her knees and coughed again, looking up and choking out. "We'll see..."

As she tried to catch her breath, she gestured towards the men, circling her hand. "You might..." She coughed once more, straightened, cringing. "You might think about how to deal with them." She hurt, and her head was throbbing even more, now that she'd had it hit hard enough to bleed. She clutched at her shirt where it was gaping open a bit. "Don't know if you caught it, but they've got a plan to kill you." She looked down at the men, her upper lip curling back in slight disgust. "Well, not sure how smart a plan, but a plan."

Casually, he pulled out a corked vile, and from it he pulled a small cloth, which he gave a single shake to open it before getting.to one knee and forcing it over Gareth's mouth.
"A lot of people want me dead," he went on, keeping a knee on Gareth's back as the man struggled against the poisoned cloth. "I run a successful business after all and people get jealous when they realize what that entails. But its something I worked hard for, started on my own and-" and as he was talking, Gareth was struggling until he abruptly stopped and landed on his head.

Removing the cloth, he lifted Gareth up by his hair, examined his face closely before simply letting him drop back to the ground. Patting the unconscious man on the shoulder, he moved over to Brady and tested his side with a light kick of his boot. He was out like a light.

"Anyway, the point is jealousy rots the mind. If these men understood the implications of hard work... Perhaps they'd try for something more suitable that their small heads can handle." And he tossed aside the used poisoned cloth before dusting off his hands.

"Now about my chair..."

Kieta leveled a look on him, moss green eyes perplexed. In the Otherworld, plots to kill were not uncommon, but their motivations were often different. The implications of those plots were also apparently different, or else this man would be much more concerned for his life and livelihood. To her, it was kill or be killed, there was no gray areas about it. Perhaps in her earlier years she might have considered other solutions, but now that any person trying to kill her was a hunter, that changed things. If she let a hunter live, he would be able to inform others. And by passing that information on, a hunting party would naturally form to pursue her. While she might be able to take on three hunters at a time, which was the usual size of a group of hunters from the Otherworld, she would not likely escape a larger party.

She did not fear death nearly as much as she feared capture, which was another deciding factor to not letting her pursuers live. The things she would be forced to do if captured were worse to imagine than her own death. She knew how easily her hand could be forced, how easily it would be for her to be the weapon of a master. At least for a while, until she was able to escape. But the terrible things that she would do in the interim made her shutter.

"I am not overly fond of letting those who seek to kill me live. Rather, I cannot afford to let them live." She shrugged. "But perhaps your enemies are not as dangerous and determined as mine."

She allowed her fingers to gingerly touch the back of her head, wincing as she pulled them away from her matted brown hair and found them wetted with her blood. "I do not have time nor the coin for your chair, I have to finish this delivery..." She slowly sat down on the steps, wincing again as she twisted her body to pull her pack to herself. She rummaged through its contents, pulling out a swath of cloth and pressing it to the back of her head. "But I suppose if it is that important to you, you could follow me to my delivery and I will pay you from what I get." She didn't have enough energy to argue that really they should be calling it even, in her opinion. His life for her life, her bow for his chair. She also didn't feel the need to mention that she was still hopelessly lost.

He didn't waste a beat when replying, "Deal." But was quick to add, "But under one condition." And before even speaking it, he gave her a smile.
"You also have to buy me dinner. A nice, big fat juicy steak with potatoes, smashed and smothered in carrot gravy." And the very idea of such a meal reminded him he skipped lunch. He was rather tied up...

For a moment she debated calling it off, just for the sheer fact that she found his attitude presumptuous and irritating. Though if she was truly honest with herself, she did actually need him to help guide her to where she needed to go. Now it was just the matter of finding a way to get him to do so, without exposing the fact that she had no idea where they were going. "I'm guessing we're far from the Brandy intersection, so it'll have to be breakfast."

She dug into her pack again, pulling out a small bundle and handing it to him. "If you're hungry, there you go." Half of her wanted to slip a piece of Otherworld food into the bundle, which would efficiently set up a trap for him... No non-Otherworlders could eat the food without getting bound to the Otherworld. But that would draw undue attention to them... And, again, she needed him to guide her.

Kieta pushed herself up with a groan, lodging the pack beneath her arm again and securing her quiver and dirk. She walked out of the alley, paused briefly, before turning in the direction of where she felt the lake, praying that she was picking the right direction, dreading the moment he'd notice she was lost, but refusing to admit it aloud.

Trest eyed the offered food but didn't eat it
"So where are we going? And I'm hoping it's in Matron's hallow." He had places to be tomorrow morning and was presuming this arrangement would be brief... And you know, offer supper.

Hadn't she just said where she wanted to go? Kieta stopped in the street, releasing a short sigh of aggravation. "Brandy intersection. It's on the outskirts of this city, where your man first stole my pack from me." She gestured to the surrounding darkness. "And as it's now dark, the man I was supposed to meet will likely not show up until the sun rises. So I will not be paid until morning."

She looked about, frustrated with her current predicament, frustrated that she was so hopelessly useless with city directions. Groaning, she relented. "Perhaps, since this is your city, you can lead us on the quickest route there. Thus ensuring that I can get the coin to pay you." She thought darkly to herself, The greedy bastard.... She still wasn't fully admitting aloud that she was lost.

"Brady?" At that revelation, Trest actually laughed.
"Well, if it wasn't obvious already you aren't from around here, it is now! Though those pointy ears of yours kinda give that away. Elves, fae and the like normally don't make homes here. The people..." he wrinkled his nose as his arms were folded across his chest. "They're prejudice; a mind set only proven by the war."

He gave a shrug and noticed how frustrated she was. And he couldn't help but let his smile grow.

"Brady intersection.." he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It's... basically on the other side of town."
And his eyes danced at that. How long had she been lost? Sure it was dark... but it appeared she had a map. Maybe she was just that new to Connlaoth?

With a gesturing nod of his head, he began to make his way down the road.
"Follow me. This road leads to all roads and will take us there before the moon rises. Though you said you're to meet someone, mind if I inquire who? Maybe I might know them, then you can meet up with them before morning."
And he could get that steak. He was still pretty stuck on the idea of a free dinner. Breakfast, after all, he normally skipped.

Raising an eyebrow, Kieta pressed the cloth again to the back of her head. "Prejudice?" She didn't have a clue what he was talking about. She kept to herself, and kept isolated. "I work the wilderness. These... cities of yours really are not to my taste." That was a huge understatement, if ever there was one. Cities made her physically sick, and weak. Now that she was so deep into one as to become miserably lost, she had made the absolute final decision that she would never enter a city again. Even if that meant losing a delivery and having to move to an entirely new kingdom.

She cringed when he told her just how far she had wandered from her intended destination. He definitely knew how lost she'd been, and even though he wore a shit-eating grin on his face, at least he wasn't verbally berating her.

At his forming a plan, she pulled out the slip of paper, easily reading it in the dark, her accent thick in the reading. "I  was supposed to meet a bread man, and he was to take me to somebody named 'The Bull'..." She looked at him, trying to keep the sheepish look she felt from creeping onto her face. She consoled herself with the knowledge that if they'd been in the wilderness, that there would be no way that he would think her helpless and stupid. But that didn't entirely alleviate the feeling from her own thoughts. If she'd just gone ahead and tackled that damn thief to begin with, instead of waiting to follow him into this irritating man's lair, perhaps she wouldn't have gotten lost.

"The Bull? Sounds like bull shit to me." And he smirked. "But joking aside, I don't believe I've heard of a bread man, unless you're supposed to meet with Old Man Temmens, but he? He's kind of blind... but oh, don't let that fool you. He still makes the best damn bread this side of Connlaoth. Not sure how he does it, I mean, I'm in my prime and I still burn or over beat my bread." He gave a shrug at that.

"But 'The Bull'..." he rubbed his chin in thought. "Must be someone knew around here. I'm sure I'd recognize that name if I knew 'em."

Kieta drew a hand down her face in exasperation, truly sick and tired of this current job. That's it, this would be the last time that she made a delivery at all. She finally shrugged, following just a step behind him, still not quite trusting him... Especially after seeing the bit with the fainting cloth and the head knocking. "I've got the feeling that not many people in this place say a lot of truths." She gave herself the opportunity to watch the quieter, darkening streets to look around, following more his voice and footsteps than anything. She stumbled once or twice, truly feeling rotten.

"I get the feeling that he just sells bread as a form of mimicry. Sort of like moths that look like frogs, so that they are not eaten. Or harmless snakes mimicking the colors of venomous ones."

Her fingers touched the back of her head, this time feeling the clotting begin. It'd probably look rather gruesome, all hair and blood, in the morning. Still, she took the swath of cloth and wrapped it the rest of the way around her head. Something told her that this man had a way of underplaying a lot of things, and likely his comment about her ears was one she should take a lot more seriously than he made sound. She would have brought her cloak if she'd known it would be a problem.

She could feel the moon as it began to rise in the sky, and felt a wave of its strength wash over her. It was not as rejuvenating as submerging herself in water, or connecting directly to the earth would be, but it was enough to keep her on her feet. She hardly thought that he would slow down or bother helping her if she collapsed, unless he was well and truly determined to get the coin and meal out of her. In her opinion, it hardly seemed worth it. If he was a thief, why didn't he just steal whatever it was he needed? Or shouldn't he already have it, if he was as successful as he claimed?

"Is there something I should call you? Perhaps you go by something like 'The Weasel' or 'The Flea'? I assume that this odd fake name thing is a cultural behavior that I don't understand."

Trest nodded at her assessment of those she was to meet. He had figured the same, and he didn't even know her full story. But most of these types of jobs he knew well enough, and there wasn't a lot of cleverness behind them, just that they all used the same formula to try to hide their trails.

Continuing on as her guide, he paused only at her question of his name. As it was earlier, he gave her another smug grin. "The Hawk." He told her. "But that is just a nick name. You can call me Trest, Trest Arristaire," and he extended out his hand for her to shake. Might as well be on good terms with the woman, though he was starting to like the way she looked when angry.

"Only those in my line of work coin such names. It's better to have that passed around then your birth right one. But it doesn't take a lot for one to track down a man's true alias, so I guess you could say it's just something that's popular. Heck, I've seen young soldiers and the like trying to boost their egos in a similar manner. But what's in a name anyway? An identity, sure, and roots to your family. But I think men like their faux names better. It gives them a sense of power over their identity, and a foolish sense of mystery."

Kieta looked dubiously at his hand, before reaching out and giving it a brief shake. Momentarily she debated not giving him her real name, but decided that it wouldn't make a difference. "Kieta."

She quirked up an eyebrow at him. "'The Hawk'? You don't seem overly hawk-like." Her inquisition came with the implied interest in the back story behind his nickname. Despite herself, she wanted to know more about this peculiar human.

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((OC- sorry it's so short! It'll pick up once they get to the Brandy intersection and get into trouble with those people))

Ooc: no worries about post length! I'm on my phone right now so Icant post incredibly long ones either. And sometimes conversations are more natural with shorter posts.

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"What, my beak and feathers aren't a dead give away?" And he leaned down, mocking a reach for his boot. "Want me toshow you my talons?"

Kieta still wasn't accustomed to this world, and in the Otherworld it would have been entirely feasible that he could have talons hiding in his shoes. "I'd have taken you for a shifter of some kind, so of course I wouldn't be able to see feathers." She looked down at his booted feet before leveling a skeptical look at him, "But if you do have talons, they are either very small and useless, or you have very small feet. Which wouldn't make sense for your body size..."

Trest laughed.
"I suppose you could say I have tiny talons. I've gotten complaints about my toe nails scratching, and that it hurts. But toe nails aside, why would you presume I'm a shifter? I think those types are pretty rare around here, considering Connlaoth has a negative attitude towards magical beings, and the likes. Not saying it's not a good guess.. but I'm just... well, not. I'm just a plain old human, yep, that's me! A plain old human who's very good at running his thieving business, I might add. What about you, huh? Seems like you might be freelancer?"

"Your nickname being 'The Hawk', so I thought that you were perhaps a hawk shifter. But you must have some reason for your nickname. So are they just character traits? Or do you have a hawk?"

She touched her fingers to her ears, and was thankful that she hadn't been noticed earlier in the daylight. "How negative? Because I used quite a good deal of magic on you, and you did not seem all that surprised or disgusted. Disgruntled, obviously, but not surprised."

She didn't feel like answering any personal questions about herself, distrustful. She thought about the man blackmailing her into making these kinds of deliveries, and what would happen if she didn't go through with them. She knew that her blackmailer knew how useful she was, and felt lucky that he had not forced her to perform darker tasks. Yet. "Freelancer... Not really."

"I guess you could say I'm 'hawk like'," Trest went on, leading the woman through the labyrinth of streets with ease. In fact, it seemed he rarely had to look up to a street sign or look around for a land mark, as he went on, guiding the woman past a small town square with a well and closed shops. "And not by physical features, unless you think my nose is beak like, in a charming way, I'd have to disagree. But rather hawk like meaning I'm quick, cunning, and seem to be able to maneuver into and out of places most can or will not. Though I'd have to say, the major reasoning is my keen eyes, and my sense of 'distance'. Hawks, eagles and falcons; all birds of prey, have a keen eye to see far ahead of them, and below. I have this sort of skill in foresight, and so it trickled down into such a name."

He shrugged after his long winded reasoning and added, "I only use it to intimidate, or try to sweet talk people, using it as if it makes my business more valuable. And for the most part, it works. Someone with a reputation makes a buyer or potential client more confident in buying our wares or simply hiring myself or my men for a job. Whatever pays the bills, naturally."

And here he paused, about a street away from their destination when he caught sight of her ears and thought to her comment about them. And seeing how her hair fell about her ears and cheek in an awkward, wind blown sort of way, he reached over to brush it and tuck it behind her ear and found his lips tugging into a leftward grin.

"And I'm not exactly like most Connlaothians. If you stick around Connlaoth, you're sure to notice that. Also.." he went on, gesturing down the way. "There's Brady Intersection." And his grin was rather smug and proud they made it there in such a timely manner, and just as the night bell began to toll.

Listening intently to his story, she was surprised by how genuinely he was responding to her question. Even though she still felt rubbed the wrong way by their earlier encounter, he was actually sticking to his word and answering her honestly, if not sarcastically. "Hawks are known for their skills in strategy, which also makes sense from what I've seen from you..." A smirk graced her lips as she looked up at him, "Though I can't say strategies to get a free dinner are all that impressive."

Kieta felt a blush flush across her cheeks at the sudden contact, frozen momentarily during the moment, eyes wide and surprised. The progression of emotions moved quickly across her face before she was able to look away, stepping a step or two away from him to create more distance. She wasn't accustomed to receiving attention such as this from men, and in the moment had been suddenly aware that she found him attractive. He was certainly more attractive to her than most members of her own race, who tended to be much slighter in structure.

She was glad for the distraction, looking in the direction he pointed her. Self-consciously she smoothed her hair back over her ear, looking back from him and feeling suddenly brought back to reality by his smug grin. The rest of her blush left her face, and she readjusted her pack. "Well, might as well check to see if there's any way to find my meet ups."

They walked together towards the intersection, Kieta looking around for any signs of the Bread Man. The sound of heavy boots alerted her to the arrival of a large man, her nose catching the scent of bread. She turned, temporarily amazed by her luck... but her amazement turned to worry as she saw several more men appear beside the large man, and she turned to look behind them to see that they were being surrounded. The large man who smelled of sour bread held a large mallet in his big, meaty hands, wearing an apron caked in dough. "What took you so long to make it with my boss's package, lass?"

Kieta slowly opened her pack, reaching into it and pulling the parcel out. "There was a... hiccup. But it's here now."

"Now, now, what makes you think you can just stand me up like you did?" He tutted, pounding the mallet into his open palm, "My boss don't like to wait, and now he wants to see you himself. Said he wanted a personal delivery, to make sure you didn't tamper with the package during all that dawdling time you took."

Her mind raced as she began to think through possible escape plans, although there were about a dozen of them, against her and Trest. "I don't think that's going to work for me, seeing as that wasn't part of the plan. If this package is so important, you'll want it in one piece." She summoned what small power she had gotten from the moon, holding up her palm until a small flame started up in it. She held the package over the flame. "Now you all are going to let me and this... innocent... man leave. I'll place this package outside of the city in the hollow of a the old sycamore tree."

When the Bread Man responded only by giving a small nod of his chin in the direction of another man, Kieta only had a moment to recognize the shape of a dart as it made its way at her and another at Trest before she felt the sting of the dart hit her neck. Her hand reached up to her neck before she stumbled, feeling the effects fairly swiftly. She felt her limbs go numb as she collapsed to the ground, head hitting the stone of the street to add another large bump to her head.

Whatever had been in the dart created paralysis without making her lose consciousness, her eyes glued open so she was able to see the boots of the Bread Man moving towards her. He stopped in front of her, the toe of his boot tipping her head up before letting it roll limply forward. "Guess the boss was right about this one having magic. Pack her and the man up, we'll take 'em back to the boss now."

Trest was enjoying the evening stroll, but the second he was able to see the bread man (who was more like the BEHEMOTH man), he was taken aback.
"Seems like the baker has a lot of little bakers..." he said through his teeth, and felt his hands tighten into fists. He hadn't accounted for them getting ambushed. Then again, he presumed her delivery was harmless. He thought to the dagger in his boot, but even with it, he knew they were too out numbered for him to do much of anything, and he tried to keep a grin upon him, trying to make it appear as if he was hardly deterred by their numbers, but it was the dart that did him in.

Not having expected that, a hand went to the spot it sunk in, and soon he was seething. The tingling worked fast, radiating from the neck and quickly flushed through his body. Though he tried to fight it, it was futile, and he fell over, muscles still tense, from both his strain, and that of the dart.  And much like her, he was in the same boat- still very much aware but very much unable to do thing.

His blue eyes searched the area, for something, anything offering a clue to their fate, and when he caught a small house crest on one, hooded man's figure, he wished he could see just whose crest it was.

And soon he and his new friend were thrown like sacks of potatoes, she over the hooded man's back, and he? Well, it seemed they left the big burley backer to carry him, and he was hearing whispers and perhaps snickering against the men as they observed them.

"Looks like the Hawk. Boss'll be interested in this!"

And if he could frown he would. And if he could protest he would but well, he was sort of as useless as the sack of potatoes he felt like, and could only inwardly bite his tongue. Great, now he and his enterprise were now being swallowed up into whatever this mess was. Figures he'd get into more trouble over another pretty face!

And all he could do was numbly sulk as he was forced to smell the baker's sweat and flour coated clothes. And the scent of flour and bread reminded him he hadn't really eaten much today. Ugh, and here he was actually excited at the prospect he could have gotten dinner and a date; not kidnapping and being poisoned!

Kieta could feel the man's shoulder digging into her ribs, but she tried her best to focus on the vibrations to determine their direction. She wasn't as worried about the situation as she should probably have been, but she was thinking about it comparatively. This was quite a bit better than being caught by Otherworld Hunters, but still not good. That, and the men were walking towards water, which was helping to replenish her strength. It didn't make her head feel any better, and she was still feeling weak.

She heard them entering into a tunnel, which made it hard to really pinpoint where the vibrations were leading them... If they were able to escape, it would take some serious concentration to lead them back out of the network of tunnels. After some time and a considerable drop in temperature, they entered a room with considerably more light and tiled floor.

The thud of a body and a groan alerted her to the end of their journey, and soon she, too, was being deposited onto the ground. Her body was contorted awkwardly, her hair covering her face so she couldn't see anything. A hand gripped her hair and yanked her up into a sitting position, her body still paralyzed and numb. Another hand gently moved her hair out of her face, before squeezing her chin in his hand.

A weak whimper came from her strangled throat as she looked into the face of a brutish looking woman, who smiled maliciously at her. "Ah, so this is what the rare and elusive wild elf looks like. Roth told me he'd caught himself one. Looks like you've landed yourself in a bit of a predicament. I don't know how a pretty little thing has found her way under the thumb of that man, but I think he's going to give you to me."

The woman physically lifted her and placed her in a chair, and from her seat she could see as two men lifted and placed Trest into a chair beside her. The woman reached placed her hands on the arms of Trest's chair, leaning forward, "And who do we have here?" She smiled at him, too, an unkind smile spreading across her features. "I believe we haven't been properly introduced, Hawk." She gently slapped his face, patting it. "I am The Bull... And if my sources are correct, and they are, I've heard that you tried to take something that belonged to me. Now, I've let you exist in my city, but now you've angered me."

The Bull took a few steps back so that she was in both of their lines of site, sweeping out her hands. "Now, I'm not without mercy. You two can both work under me, in exchange for your lives. Of course, with some stipulations." She gestured to the Bread Man, and he came forward, shoving their chairs together and tying them down and then together. He then gestured another man forward, who came and stuck needles in both of their necks.

Kieta could feel the feeling begin to return, but slowly, so all she could do to begin with is speak in a hoarse, forced voice, though it was not quite enough to make sense yet. "Whaaht... ah..."

Trest's expression, or rather, the expression he tried to convey as even his facial features were numb!, was nothing short of a nonplussed glare. And all he could think about was how unlucky he was, and when the woman recognized him, he wished he could roll his eyes and retort. But when he tried to speak, it came out as a senseless jumble of muffles.

Relief only came after he was tied to a chair, and he had to wonder when tying people to chairs would go out of fashion. This was twice in one day he was being bond to a chair, and it made him sigh. But even that simple sigh was awkward and he soon groaned as his throat began to tickle and some senses, beginning to return.

And once he felt his tongue tingling, he tried to talk, but more of his garbled nonesense gurgled out, which made The Bull chuckle as she moved forward to sweep away the droll off the corner of his lips.
"Careful there, Hawk, you're drooling."
And though she made it sound seductive, to Trest he was not exactly turned on. Perhaps in another scenario things could be a little kinky, but everything about this situation screamed wrong.

In the effort to move her head, Kieta's head rolled to the side, a mess of attempted words gurgling from her mouth. The Bull turned from Trest to address her, "We've all had proper introductions except for you... What shall we call you?"

Kieta struggled not to choke on her own saliva, but she managed to produce a halfway intelligible word. "Fffuhckk..."

The Bulls response was swift and harsh, slapping Kieta so hard across the face that her head rolled to the other side. The Bull wiped the blood from her hand off on the front of Kieta's shirt, before pulling on Kieta's lower lip rather affectionately. "Now, now, I don't allow my employees to speak to me like that." Kieta knew at this point that they were less employees, and more slaves.

"You will both be my new errand runners. Working together, you will fetch whatever I tell you to fetch. The stipulations? Your lives in exchange for this." The Bull motioned for the Bread Man, who took a box from another and handed it to his boss. The Bull opened the box, displaying two cuffs. "Of course I need to make sure you don't run off. These nice devices will be placed on you, and if you try to betray me, they will inject you with enough poison to down an elephant." Placing the box on the ground in front of them, she smiled. "The decision is up to you, really."

"I will give you both some time to discuss the matter with one another." She turned and began to walk away, the rest of the men in the room filing out before her. "Take your time. This room is all yours for however long you should need to think."

Once the door to the room had closed, Kieta tested her fingers out, clenching and unclenching her hands on the arms of the metal chairs. Of course metal. She forced words from her numb lips, "A bitch..."

It wasn't until the woman left did Trest attempt a groan. When would his body wake up? And would it matter? Both options before them seemed pretty awful, and once he began to feel his tongue, he started making all sorts of strange noises in attempts to get used to using that muscle again.

"Du you tink dat wuman is serus?" He shook his head, trying out his tongue again.
"Serious?" he went on, the sound of his normal voice finally breaking through what felt like lard on his tongue. Ugh.

She thought to laugh, but it came out as more of a splutter, blood dripping down her lip. She rolled her head towards him, looking up from beneath her eyelashes at him. "No, I fhink she's gonna giff uhs cake an' nott kill uhs." She felt like she had marbles in her mouth.

Rolling her head away from him again, she put as much effort as she could into spitting onto the ground to clear her mouth of blood. Her voice was sluggish, "Looks like my enemy has been your enemy for a while."

"Well," Trest went on, voice still scratchy and a bit muffled. "I do like cake."
But to see her spit out blood, the smile he wore turned to a frown. "Seemed she.." he went on, between breaths of his slow tongue, "Doesn't like you much."
And when Kieta replied about his relationship with The Bull, he tried to shrug.

"I know of her, but I don't know her. Only ran into her goons once or twice. So don't think her and I had ever been cozy. And from what I've seen, you'd be better off to flirt with the woman than I." And then he leaned towards her just a little, and added in a whisper, "I think she likes ladies."

Kieta used what little bit of control she had over her head to roll it back and forth, trying to get a good look around the room they were in. It was fairly empty, other than the metal chairs... On the edge of her vision, though, she noted a throne-like structure and felt a sick feeling hit her stomach when she realized what it was made out of. Bones. The bones of a bull had been woven together to create a throne, with the head and horns propped at the top of the chair, just high enough for someone to sit beneath.

"Maybe I'll find her some nice bull intestines to go with that throne of hers." She nodded her head in the direction of the throne, if he hadn't by then noticed it. "I don't see her being impressed by flowers."

Kieta shifted uncomfortably in the chair against the rope, sharp pricks of feeling coming back into her limbs reminding her of waking a sleeping limp, or having frostbite. Staring down at the box, she asked, "How effective do you think those are?"

Trest looked down at the boxes, where the visible shining outline of the cuffs were visible.
"I don't know, but I don't like the options we got. Being The Bulls lackey isn't exactly one of my life's goals... Though dying also seems like a cowardly way out."

Ugh, it irritated him how slow he still had to speak, how heavy his tongue still felt and how sharp the tingles were becoming as his blood returned. He sighed.

"Maybe if you can't seduce her.. I could.." he said, thoughtfully. "Despite your outwardly portrayed aversion to my proposal of a date, I bet eve you can't deny I am quite charming. Women really like the blue eyes, and well, the good looks and body that accompany that can't hurt as well. However, assuming that wasn't offered to us first, one could also suspect The Bull is perhaps libido retardant, or something of the such. I've only met one other woman before like that and well, it was kind of awkward, believe you me."

Oh, right! He was rambling...
Looking back to the cuffs he frowned.

"How long do you think they'll give us to think this over?" He wriggled a bit,t he metal chair scraping lightly on the floor. "We could find a means to escape.." But even as he searched around, rolling his tingly neck muscles in hopes to get a better look, his optimism was waning.

Listening to his long-winded prattling somehow made the situation feel less serious, and although she would never openly admit it, she was thankful to listen to him. It was a bit like watching a young animal entertaining itself, in that it was both easily entertained and hard to maintain seriousness when around it. Instead she leveled a look at him, an eyebrow quirking up as she waited for him to wind down.

"I'm not entirely sure either of us would want to find out the consequences of seducing a women that goes by the nickname "The Bull", who also happens to sit on a throne of bones, which could be entirely made out of bull bones, but more than likely might have a few other types of bones in there."

She heard the bones in her wrist pop and crackle as she tried to find any give in the rope, and although she was slight of frame and her wrists were quite tiny, there was no way the ropes were going to move. At his suggestion, she, too, tried to move herself in the chair. Grunting, she couldn't even get it to scoot an inch... There was certainly no way of her man-handling her way out of this situation, and so she resumed her attempts to slither out of the ropes.

"I don't imagine too long. Bulls aren't known for their patience." She cringed as her skin rubbed against the coarse ropes. "And the path out of here is pretty winding. Even if we do manage to get out of these chairs, past any guards, and out to the tunnel system, it'd be easy to get turned around."

She paused in her struggles and explanation, a sudden revelation coming to mind. "Bulls also aren't known to be female..." An incredulous look crossed her features, looking straight at Trest. "You don't think...?" Was the woman a man in disguise? Or was she both man and woman? Or was the name completely unrelated to her biological sex entirely, and just about her name? It was hard to know since Kieta often took things quite literally, but there were quite a few possibilities.

Trest looked to the bone throne.
"Point made."

And as he heard the woman struggle with the rope, he too, tried his luck at it, but the more the rope rubbed at his flesh,t he more he swore. This time, however, he decided perhaps the ropes were a silly angle to try to escape, and planted his boots flat on the floor. Thinking about his ordeal from earlier, he tried to gauge the weight of the metal chair by rolling on his heels and rocking it.

"Bulls, yeah, aren't female," he went on with a grunt, having trouble getting the chair to do what he wanted. "Cows, I think, are the correct name. THough that doesn't sound very threatening. I'm sure she has her reasonings behind it. Though if she's a he..."

He tried not to think of it, and suddenly the chair rocked forward, slamming a bit too hard on the floor. Trest cringed as the noise it made was just a tad too loud for his licking.

"So you know that vine trick you did on me? Can you do something about these chairs or something? Like, melt them away with magic or something. Or turn them into a convenient means to escape? Oh! Like a horse..."

((OC- So.... Upon reading "the bone throne" I had an absolutely inappropriate response. Are you also reading it in a sexy man voice? Because if not, you should... :_: I'm such an adult))
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A snort of laughter escaped Kieta's nose when he crashed onto the ground, "I've never seen a Hawk more graceful than you, Trest." Even though her initial reaction was to laugh, she knew that the noise of the metal chair was likely to draw attention.

Straining her ears, she struggled to hear anything over the echoes of the tunnels. "You think I wouldn't have done that by now if it was an option?" She bit the inside of her cheek, debating whether or not to divulge more information about her powers to him or not. Did she really want him to know that she couldn't work her magic when she was separated from nature? Part of her wondered if The Bull had known her weakness, and had purposely placed them in a room full of metal, dead stone, and animal bones. Live rock she might have been able to work with, live animals certainly, but this room was as dead to her magic as was possible. She was just happy that the chair she was in wasn't made of iron... That had the potential to burn her.

Kieta didn't have the opportunity to give him any more detail, because the door to the room was opening up. The Bull stalked in, and Kieta looked worriedly down at where Trest lay on the ground. The woman lazily sauntered up to where Trest lay prone, squatting down beside him. "Oh, I see the Hawk has tried to fly the coop. I do this for a living, so did you really think you'd be able to escape?"

She tutted, physically picking Trest and the chair up and lifting him off the ground. Kieta swallowed heavily. What was the woman... man... thing? An ogre? Half giant? Something terrible. Kieta's mind raced through all of the possibilities. If they accepted the cuffs, perhaps they could work for the woman for a time, while also working to uncover a way to remove them? It would certainly prolong their deaths. And surely after that it wouldn't take too much effort to evade the woman... She couldn't possible have that big of an organization.

Kieta squirmed in her chair, which brought her under The Bull's attention. "Now you're not looking too well, are you? I have heard your kind doesn't fare well in captivity." The woman gripped Kieta's chin, close enough for Kieta to smell the rank smell of old food on her teeth. "No, not well at all."

She released Kieta's chin and walked to her throne, sitting down and crossing her knees, "I was going to be nice and give you more time to consider your options, but as you tried to get away, I no longer feel like being nice."

Trest couldn't believe his luck. And figures he was on the floor when she returned. But he was grateful, at least, the woman put him back upright and tried no funny business.

"Who said I was flying? If anything, that was me falling... with style." He conjured up his most charming grin over at The Bull from where she sat upon her throne, and scooted forward so that his chair scraped across the ground, but he could get a closer, better look at their captor.

"And what kind of assumption is that? Anyone would cringe at captivity. Heck, even I'm coated in some uncomfortable, clammy sweat at the thought of it, though this isn't the first time I had to deal with this today. Seems you ladies have a thing for binding others to chairs."

And he tossed a look to Kieta incase she wondered if he was crazy, and he merely shrugged and looked back to the Bull.

"So we were thinking about your offer... but from where we are, its hard for us to get a really good grip on this situation, you know? I mean it's not like we can inspect those cuffs you proposed to us. How do we know if they'll match our skin tones? Not a lot of things can match with this hair," he went on, jerking his head back to use that momentum to remain his long, dark red hair from his face.

"But you're saying you've grown impatient with us? But we've just got here? And that wonderful dart poison you injected us with before you injected us with that other non-poisoning stuff- sort of does a number to a person, am I right?"

The Bull looked nonplussed, but for some reason, let the man speak.

"Anyway, what I'm saying is- Name your price. I've got gold stashed away somewhere like you wouldn't believe. Let us escape, cuffs forgotten, and I can make sure you live like a Queen deserves."

He might have been bluffing, heck, it probably seemed that way to anyone else. But Trest had an ace up his sleeve...
Though in this moment, he wasn't sure if he would live to see him use it!

The Bull looked straight at her, smiling. "Oh, I think this one knows just how much more uncomfortable she can get. Uncomfortable like a sow who can't get her calf to teat, the pressure, the build up..." Kieta shifted uncomfortably in the chair, feeling sufficiently grossed out by the woman's description. It was true, her magic would eventually build up to unmanageable proportions if she was stuck in captivity for too long. But the result wouldn't be bad for her, it would be bad for those around her... She assumed the woman wasn't aware of this, or she wouldn't have been insinuating keeping her in captivity as a punishment or threat. Not that Kieta particularly liked blacking out and destroying things haphazardly, but if this woman chose to keep her cooped up, then so be it.

When Trest leveled a look her way about the chair bondage bit, she rolled her eyes and shook her head. He'd deserved it that time. The sudden slamming of fists brought Kieta's attention about, watching The Bull's nostrils flair angrily as Trest continued to try to charm his way out of the situation. Ok, so the woman at least had a temper appropriate to her namesake creature. The sudden behavior has been a drastic switch from her earlier cool, blase attitude about the whole ordeal.

The Bull's fists clenched viciously on the ends of the throne, which were constructed out of the balls of the beast's femurs, and Kieta thought she was positively snorting through her nostrils. Slowly the woman unclenched her fists before standing stiffly, forcing a tight, angry, smile to her thin lips. From behind her throne, she pulled out a beaten box, dragging it unnecessarily across the floor until dropping it within inches of their toes.

Popping the lid of the trunk, the smell of stale clothes rose from inside. The Bull bent and pulled out what was once most likely a white dress, and then pulled out a matching dirty outfit of shirt and breeches. "As a gesture of good faith, you will both wear these to tomorrow's dinner, along with the cuffs that you will place on yourself. That is the time you have to decide." The woman pulled out a needle and jabbed it into Kieta's thigh, making her cry out. "I have many such medicines to help my loyal followers. This one will help to calm your nerves for a bit." Frustrated, Kieta felt her blood slowing... She wasn't quite paralyzed again, but her arms and legs felt like lead.

The Bull turned to Trest and did the same, before taking out a knife and cutting their bonds off of them.  Kieta tried to lunge at her, her movements sluggish and sending her face down on the ground when the woman easily stepped out of the way. "Now, remember, there are worse things than death if you think to test me again."

With some effort, Kieta was able to roll over to watch as the woman left. Another grunt escaped her as she shoved herself up, grabbing the edge of the chair to hoist herself up. On unsteady legs, she stared hard at the door. "Are humans always this..." She couldn't even find the words for how bizarre the situation felt, and with so many drugs pumping through her, she couldn't quite remember how she had even landed herself in such a bad situation. Sure she'd been late with her delivery, but certainly it wasn't worth the punishment she was receiving! And Trest had only been doing what he always did... It wasn't like he'd meant to steal from this insane woman. The severity of the situation felt off, and she wondered if there was more to it than either of them knew.

"Well, horse piss... looks like Bull's are harder to charm than I thought."
Sighing, Trest looked around, his body feeling heavy, and his mind- quite slow, tired. He sighed again, yawned even before turning to his fellow captive companion.

"So... about the options we have.... how do your powers work, exactly? I mean, can't you just conjure us up some poison ivy or more vines or whatever and use that to give us some epic sort of escape?"

Kieta rolled onto her elbows, pushing herself slowly up until she was able to stabilize herself tenuously on her hands and knees. "Seems that way."

Finally, she was able to sit upright on her own,  slouched  over. "Nature. I have access to nature, I have access to my magic." She tried to gesture around with her hand, but she could only raise it a few inches before the weight of it brought it back down. "They obviously knew who both of us were. And so they prepared for me, and put us in a dead stone room full of metal chairs. Man-crafted things."  She  looked at him, almost sullenly. "And don't you think I'd have done something by now if it was possible?"

"I don't know. I just presumed maybe your magics were muffled from the drugs too?" He gave a sluggish shrug. "But don't blame me for any of this now, its not like it was planned! Though as you've suggested... on their end it seemed planned."

His mind was still slow as he tried to comprehend this, but remained silent as thinking really hurt his brain at the moment!

"Never said I blamed you, just that they knew both of us." She wasn't feeling well, so disconnected from nature. The prospect of being some person's slave was not only disgusting to her, but terrifying. Her greatest weaknesses surfaced when she was captured and cut off from nature.

"If anything, it seems to be my fault for insisting you come along. They seemed vexed with you, but not to the extent that they would keep you captive if you were in other company." She frowned, staring at the door. "Though their excuse for keeping me is not sufficient either. Being late for a delivery isn't enough of a reason to enslave a person."

"Yeah, well, the Bull isn't well known because of her selfless ways. I'm sure all she needed was a combination of our blundering to tick her off. Well that... Or she's in the rag. You know, presuming she isn't a man. If I had to guess, these collars she wants us to wear are probably knew toys she spent a pretty penny on and wants us to try them out for her. You know... Becoming her unfortunate guinea pigs."

Kieta walked over to the clothing, picking it up. "Wonder why she wishes us to change..." She looked down at her own clothing, and while they were a bit dirty, they weren't in the worst condition possible. The off-white dress was clearly too big for her, and there were tiny flecks of blood along the swooping collar.

She paced around the room, fingers occasionally running over sections that she hoped would budge. She could hear the distant drip of water, tracing it to what she heard was an underground river further away. Both were well out of her reach, and even if they hadn't been, the room they were in was sealed so efficiently that it wouldn't matter. She'd only be able to get small amounts of water into the room at a time, and she was no good at freezing things. Which, at this point, might be the only possible thing to do with water. Freeze it onto the hinges of the door for their escape. It might work... But wasn't a sure thing.

"Do you have anything of nature on you? I think they searched me, because everything I had is gone. So maybe a stick, some water, a leaf, whatever?"

"Well, unless you count the mud on my boots, I got nothing," he went on with a shrug, and while she was walking around the room, he moved over to examine the clothing himself. The red blood against the white clothe was hard to miss, and he frowned as his thumb brushed over the rough material.

"Well, it's certainly not fashionable. But call me crazy, it seems this is the attire she wants us to wear when she leashes and collars us like her dogs."

He let the clothing fall from his hand. He wasn't sure he was prepared to give his life up, just like that..

On the other hand, he didn't feel it was quite his time to die.

"So what do you think, Kieta? Ever think you'd be forcefully employed by some woman-man named 'The Bull'?"

She curled her fingers into a small hole in the wall, knocking her knuckles against it as she tested its strength. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she listened for the vibrations to expose an weakness, only to find nothing. "If anything, she's quite good at fortifying her den... Pen... I don't know what bulls call their homes."

She looked over to him, watching the clothes fall to the ground. "I think she is dressing us up for slaughter or for show. If we agree, I assume these are to show her new pets off." Her eyes took in the blood again. "And if we refuse, I assume there is some perverse pleasure she associates with killing those who disobey her in those clothes."

Her nose scrunched, and she continued. "At any rate, they smell of death." A sigh escaped her lips. "I don't want my own death to be added to those clothes. So I suppose it doesn't matter what I thought was possible. It just is."

She felt anxious like a caged animal, continuing to pace the parameters of the room. "We have a better chance of escaping in the long run if we choose first to be collared." She crouched momentarily on her haunches, wrapping her arms around her knees and burying her face in between her hands, an obvious expression of distress. The moment passed quickly, and she was back to pacing the room. "I don't think we're going to like the errands she will send us on, though."

Trest remained uncharacteristically silent as this entire scenario continued to digest. It was a hard pill to swallow, that much was certain, and when Kieta spoke to him about not liking things, he gave a snort.

"Whatever gave you that idea? Her flattery or these lovely accommodations?" the playful sarcasm was still there, and if anything, worked wonders on his own nerves. Defense mechanisms were funny that way. But trying to stay light hearted even in such despair was his specialty, and he could only hope he could keep it that way.

He peered over at the woman, thankful that by now, he felt just about one hundred percent. Though he wasn't sure pacing, like she was doing, would get either of them anywhere. You know.. unless they could somehow use that to dig into the ground- and even that was a childish thing to dream of.

"Well, at least we're both on the same page.." he went on with a sigh, folding his arms across his chest. "That we have no other choice. Death is always an option, but that's a cowards way out. And well... to be fair, I feel I'm a tad too young to die. However, I'm not exactly a fan of... working for someone. I'm not exactly sure she'll... appreciate what I can offer... But of course, if I had my way, she would no longer have a face..." he went on, thoughtfully.

"We may wish for death before this is over."
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((OC- I'm going to fast forward))
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The time for the dinner came fairly quickly, and they were given an hour to both dress and make their final decisions about the cuffs. Her body was stiff and sore from the hard surfaces of the room, because she had spent most of her time pacing or standing. Nervous. Frightened, though she wouldn't admit it aloud. Confinement, ownership, those were her greatest fears above all else. And she could feel her magic welling within her, uncomfortably so, without any outlet. She was fearful of what would happen when she was finally able to encounter nature again.

With the magnitude of her powers, came a lack of control. This was why she was hunted. The unpredictable nature of her powers could manifest in destructive, chaotic manners. True, they were still in their infancy as far as development, but she didn't know what the years ahead, let alone days ahead, would have in store for her. This was the first time she had really been confined without any access to nature.

Her fingers felt hot with unleashed fire, and she knew that if they stayed here longer, that the fire would burn. If the guards ever opened the doors, she could eventually try to burn her way to freedom... But at the price of her companion's life. And while she wasn't terribly attached to him, outside of a series of unfortunate circumstances, she did not want to live with the guilt of seeing him burn alive. Her feet, on the other hand, felt heavy, the earth feet beneath the dead marble of the floor pulling at her. Perhaps she'd be able to cave the floor in, and successfully kill herself along with her companion.

As far as this moment in time was concerned, she found her powers useless.

Grabbing the overlarge dress, she tried it on over her head, over her clothes. The cloth hung on her small frame, leaving her looking like a child playing dress up. She caught the scent of the Bull... Ever so light, and stale, on the dress. "I... I think this is a wedding dress." Visibly cringing, Kieta looked into his blue eyes, "I think it's The Bull's wedding dress." The size and smell reinforced her thought, and she found the situation all the more perverse. Had the Bull been promised to wed whoever had worn the clothes given to Trest? The thought chilled her to her core.

Using one hand to grip the bottom of the dress, so as to not trip over it, Kieta approached the chest with the cuffs. Looking down at it, her face paled and she swallowed heavily. "D'you think..." She knew she would sound weak, frightened, but she knew she had to ask. She could not possibly put the cuff on herself, could not possibly be the hand to inflict her greatest fear upon herself. He was seeing her at her most vulnerable, and she barely knew him. Disgusted with herself, but crippled with fear, she swallowed heavily and continued. "D'you think you could put it on for me? I..." She quickly, nervously, tucked some of her hair behind her ear, hands visibly shaking. "Not sure I can do it myself."

Although it appeared Trest faired far better than his companion, it was a blatant, outward lie. But one he was good at. He still kept an easy smile about him, but his palms were cold and clammy, and if you were to cheek his pulse, it was racing. And upon seeing his companion pace about like a caged animal did nothign to help the nerves he was fervently swallowing down.

But he was at least good at keeping his business face on, and this... well, he could pretend it was business. However, when they both decided to dress, he was a gentleman and kept his back to her, removing his own clothing to expose his body lined with back tatoos, and of course, scars.

He discarded his clothing as if it were any other day, and soon slipped into his own white suit, which smelled stale and made him cough. The think was wrinkled to hell. It was like they didn't understand the meaning of the word ironing, but he refrained from the joke when he saw Kieta in her outfit.

He too, thought she resembled a doll, perched there with this ridiculously over sized dress. it made her appear so muhc younger than she was, but then again, he had to wonder if he looked just as terrible-
But hey, at least he was every inch a man! He was proportioned right, and toned (he made sure of that!) and held just the right enough facial hair to be charming. After all, there was a certain allure to a man who was scruffy, over one who was soft, baby faced, after a shave.

But as he studied her and heard what she deduced, he frowned and looked at his own attire, before looking back to her.
"That dress is probably why she never got married," he pointed out, hoping to lighten the mood, but even from where he stood, he could see she was shaking. And when she asked about the collar, he inwardly cringed.

Nodding, he moved to step near her, holding the prooffered item in hand as he inspected it.

"Funny how it doens't look that extraodinary... but this little piece of metal, and these simple clothes... They're goign to change our lives."
And though the statement was grim, he smiled never the less and told her, "We'll find a way out of this. I can promise you that."

Now he just had to find a way to be true to his word.

And holding his breath, he hesitated over her. "Are you ready?"
And when she'd indicate so, the collar slipped around her neck and snapped into place.

He looked... Surprisingly good in the outfit of muslin fabric, and though it was stiff in some places from being unwashed for so long, it hugged his muscles in such a way as to show off his musculature. He was a good deal more sturdily built than most of her fae brethren, which made her feel a bit more at ease. And the small jests and jabs at the Bull's less redeeming qualities were quelling her nerves. Well, quell them in measured bouts.

Looking at him, and feeling so vulnerable, made her heart sink in a completely different way. She missed her brothers. She missed family. She missed running freely through the wildwood, her seven brothers close by to protect her. As she was there to protect them, in kind. They had been a cohesive unit, the eight of them. Trest reminded her a bit of the twins, all jokes and sass. Not that she thought of Trest as a brother, but his behavior was comforting in their current situation. Kieta knew she was reaching out for any level of comfort. Vulnerable thoughts for a vulnerable situation.

At his promise, her moss colored eyes looked up at him, tightening her lips and giving a curt nod. But when he asked if she was ready, she closed her eyes tightly. "Do it." Instinctively she reached out and fisted her hand in the fabric of his shirt as the collar snapped around her throat, breath coming in small, shallow pulls.

Kieta, once being able to control her breathing, disentangled her fist from his shirt, giving him a grim smile. "Not going to thank you, but I appreciate it." Her shaking fingers touched the metal of the collar.

As the door of the room began to open, she reeled her control back in, jaw steeling and a wild look flitting across her eyes. "Once we get out of this... arrangement... I'm going to make them suffer."

Hands clenched at her sides and shoulders straight, Kieta followed the guards down a dim hallway and into a banquet hall. The Bull sat at the head of the long table, along with a rather large, raucous gathering of her men. When The Bull spotted Trest and Kieta, she gave a wide, wild grin, slamming her goblet down onto the table and shoving herself up with such fervor that her heavy chair fell back and crashed onto the floor. A serving man rushed to right the chair, as The Bull bellowed. "MANNERS! We have a lord and lady in our presence! And ain't they something?"

Kieta's jaw tightened further at the leers of the men, eyes narrowing viciously at any whose gaze lingered. She felt distinctly self-conscious at how the dress hung off of only one of her delicate shoulders, and how precariously close the front of the dress was from exposing her breasts. She refused to clutch at the cloth like she wanted to, not wanting to draw attention to her discomfort. The Bull clapped her hands together, smile spreading even further across her features as she motioned the serving man to pull out two chairs next to one another at the opposite end of the table. "SO glad you've decided to accept the job! Welcome to the herd!" The men around the table clanged their pints of beer against the stone table. "NOW! Sit, eat, drink. We'll talk business later."

Kieta sat stiffly down into the chair offered her, beside Trest, trying her best to ignore the bulking, leering form of a man on her right. She clenched her fists tightly in her lap, sitting straight, staring straight at head, ignoring the commotion around her as best as she could.

Once her collar was secure, it was his turn. He only hesitated after picking it up, and stared at it and  wiping a thumb across its surface. Funny... maybe the collar was just ordinary metal. It was all he could hope for before securing his own around his neck with a click.

The walk down the hall was a strange one. He felt heavy, not due to any physical change, really, but due to the sheer exhaustion of how mentally taxed the pair had been. And also, he supposed, his body was still recovering from the numbing poisons they were forced to endure from earlier. His muscles did ache a little, and just before they entered into the Bull's room, he cracked his neck- which was loud, and stepped on into the room.

The men around the table (as he was pretty sure her entire crew looked male), were just about as unpleasing as their leader. Some even had physical traits of pigs, while others, though human, appeared to fair similar complications on their lack of beauty. Bt as the Bull raised up in joyous appreciation to have 'new' members to her crew, Trest simply smiled sourly in reply.

"Oh, it was an offer we couldn't refuse," he went on, and took his seat beside Kieta, and released a held breath once he was sitting down. As much as he tried to look it, he was nervous as hell on the inside, with hands as fists, resting on his knees while his blue eyes were keen to observe his surroundings. And when the food was brought before them on a long, oval lined silver tray, he had to do a double take, as there was a pot of stew boiling int he center, with a few eyeballs bobbing around against cuts of human and animal fingers combined.

And it was then he realized...
We're going to die.

A disgusted growl emerged from her throat when the "food" came out, and her hands gripped the edge of her chair in a death grip. She felt bile rising in the back of her throat, and the hot saliva which often signaled the imminent and oncoming arrival of her previous meals.

The man next to her tucked a strand of her hair back behind her ear, grimy fingers smelling of urine and unwashed male flesh. Tugging at the woven tip of her ear, he attempted what she believed he thought was a whisper, but which was easily audible to the entire table. "Odd ears you got, perhaps you want some good 'uns. That'll win me get a chance t' see that hot little box o' yours, eh?" He looked pointedly down at her lap, before grabbing a ladle in the pot and fishing about. He plopped some of the stew into her bowl, and well enough, there was an ear floating about in the mix.

When she didn't move to eat it, his voice grew a touch louder. "What? You don't like the food? I worked so hard to pick out your favorite part." Kieta continued to ignore him, looking straight ahead, though the muscles in her jaw twitched in agitation. He speared the ear with a fork and pried her hand open, forcing the fork into her hand. "Eat it."

She gave no indication of her next move. Feeling a fresh breeze enter the room, she stood swiftly, kicked her chair back, and savagely plunged the fork deep into the man's trachea. Before he had a moment to react, because stabbing a man's trachea wouldn't kill him, she extended her hand to the source of fresh air. Manipulating the air, she used it to suck all of the breath out of the man's lungs. She stood, panting, hand gripping the knife set out for her, shoulders squared and ready to fight.

But none of the other men were moving. They all looked to The Bull, who sat at the head of the table, a small, curious smile on her lips. The room was silent, all for Kieta's panting and the gurgling of the dying man, dying with an ear-skewered fork in his neck. The Bull broke the silence, laughing, clapping her hands madly, and while Kieta remained stiff and alert, the Bull continued to laugh. This continued for what felt like forever, before the Bull wiped tears away from her eyes, and slammed her goblet raucously onto the table. "THIS! This is why I wanted this one, boys! A right little killer, she is! Those wild fae types!" She waved her finger wildly at Kieta. "Look! I think she'd tear any of your throats out with her teeth! The savage little bitch!" She chuckled again, "Now sit. You don't like the food, you don't have to eat." Kieta remained standing, frozen.

The Bull became suddenly serious, voice dropping. "You and I both know I can drop you like a fly with that collar, should I feel like it. Now." She gestured to Kieta's seat. "Sit."

Slowly, Kieta returned to her seat, sitting even more on edge than before, the knife still gripped tightly in her fist. That was right... The Bull could have killed her with the poison from the collar. Could have, but didn't. Which meant that, at least for the moment, they had moved beyond threat of death. It also meant that The Bull was even crazier than she had suspected. She had literally just killed one of her men, and it had merely amused the woman.

They were in even hotter water than she had imagined.

Kieta wasn't the only one fighting the urge not to vomit, but Trest kept his smile, as difficult and fake looking as it was. Though when the man approached Kieta, it was becoming increasingly more difficult for him not to react. And he felt his muscles tense,t he cool of the moment nearly lost to him-

But then she reacted, leaving him momentarily stunned. Now a real smile curled across his lips and for some reason, it made him feel better. At least she wasn't some dainty woman in this situation. She could protect herself. That gave him some relief. Not that he knew her well enough to be relieved but... well, they were now bound together by the circumstances, so there was no denying that.

He was equally relieved when the Bull stopped laughing. Her laughter was something to chill one's bone. And also relieved when she relinquished any responsibility for the pair to eat. This made him sigh and cast a small smile to Kieta who seemed to keep being full of little surprises.

His attention returned to the food displayed before them- a steaming, but still alive octopus, a freshly bloodied pig, rife with squirming, little white maggots, a platter of cheese- or at least he hoped was cheese, but from closer inspection...
It looked like shaved pieces of human skin.

Yes.. thank you Kieta, they didn't have to eat any of this. So with all smiles he turned to the Bull.
"So.. what's for dessert?"
Maybe she couldn't completely turn chocolate cake into a nightmare?

"What's the rush?" The Bull asked, scooping up her drink and taking a hearty swig. "Perhaps you're not accustomed to our way of having dinner, but it works doubly as our meeting place, where we discuss what's new."

The look the Bull was giving Trest... he rather didn't like it. Not only was it coy, it was laced with something else... something more animalistic than her name sake,t hat was for sure.

"And since the pair of you are.... our new addition," she went on, gesturing with the goblet in her hand so that it nearly spilled its contents, "Why don't we speak about what we have gained?"
And his stomach sank even further, so that Trest was sure it was on the floor by now.
"Our little 'Hawk' here has quite the little business. And it seems, just moments ago, our.. businesses had a little bit of an overlap. But that's remedied now and it seems we've come out all the richer. Having a band of thieves at our disposal could prove fruitful to future endeavors."

He saw where this was going- the finder's keepers clause of stealing. So did she honestly kidnap him in order to kidnap ALL of him? His business included? Somehow... something still didn't smell right, and though he kept on grinning, his face was starting to hurt.

"Oh, I don't know. I'm not sure I want to bore you about birds."

But the next look The Bull wore made his stomach drop below the floor.

"But hey, if you must know, we're fast, we're versatile, and we can see the big picture to know where to get our mice from the field."
Ugh, he was sweating badly. Partly due to the room being so stifling hot (despite the wind, which he could have done with more of), but also due to the fact The Bull kept looking at him now like a piece of meat.

She had truly never seen so vile a feast in all of her life. Not even when she had spent some time in the darkwood in the Otherworld. Even kelpies and trolls and goblins ate better fare than this. She imagined only the truly deep, disgusting, and evil creatures of the Otherworld ate similar feasts. And, she noted, that no one rose to remove the body of the man she had killed. At least they weren't keen on butchering him in front of them, to serve up.

A man moved to sit in the vacated seat next to her, but when she turned and bared her teeth at him, a snarl curling her lip, he retreated. At least she had asserted her dominance for the time being. The thrill of the kill remained lodged in her breast, proud and deadly.

Trying to come down from the high, she watched Trest, the only person in the room she didn't have motivation to kill. And he was smooth. He spoke with apparent ease, cool, charming, nonplussed. She had to admit, she hadn't done the best job at keeping her own cool. And while Kieta's violent outburst had comforted Trest, Trest's ability to navigate the situation with words was soothing to her. At least one of them needed to be able to negotiate terms while Kieta calmed down. 

The Bull had a mixed look similar to, well, to a bull who both was staring down a sow in heat, while also at the same time preparing to gore that same sow bloody. Kieta had once seen a similar look, but the beast had been sick. Very sick, and very mad. And that gaze was focused, doggedly so, on Trest. Looking to Trest, who was still smiling and looking The Bull in the eyes, she noticed how profusely he was sweating. So he was nervous! Once the ringing from her kill left her ears, she could hear his heart hammering.

She needed to do something to draw The Bull's attention away... Well, something other than killing. She doubted she could get away with killing another one of the woman's men. "So we're to kill and steal for you. Vague."

The Bull turned her gaze on Kieta now, and the same amused smile she had worn as the man died appeared on her features. "And you like to kill, don't you?"

Kieta narrowed her gaze, glaring. "I like to kill those who've earned it." It went without saying that this included The Bull and her goons.

The Bull snorted, laughing, before digging into the skull of the pig and sloppily eating some of the brain. Kieta struggled to keep her face from betraying her disgust, trying to maintain her glare. Licking her fingers, a "plop" sound following each finger, and a bit of brain stuck to her chin, the Bull smirked. "You might yet really become one of us." Kieta's upper lip curled, and the Bull continued. "But, no, we've got enough killers. Not that you won't be doing some of that, but both of your particular skills are more useful."

The Bull bit into a putrid looking piece of cheese, before looking back to Trest. "Right, you ought to know that you'll be doing the talking. She don't talk too pretty, and that accent is gods awful."

It was with great relief to see the woman relinquish that stare. He was so thankful, he could have kissed Kieta. Come to think of it, out of everyone present, not a single one of the Bull's men looked anything like normal men...
And he had to wonder if some of these hires were part orc, or troll, even. Regardless, they definitely had the ugly end of the gene pool, and little did he know- that despite the Bull being proud of who she was and where she came from, Trest reminded her too much of another...

One she could have lived. One she wanted to kill. But it also didn't hurt that Trest was very easy on the eyes.

"Well, it sure seems you've put in alot of thought for us green horns," Trest went on. "But now my interest in piqued. I can't say that either the lady here and I have much in common if anything..."
The obvious good looks aside!

The Bull smiled wickedly as she turned her attention, once again, to the handsomely delicious, blue eyed man.

"Someone, somewhere, in your neck of the woods.." she went on, giving Trest a good once over, "Has something that belongs to me. A certain, small trinket, which should be easy to obtain, once found withint he premise."

"Oh? So you're... sending us to some place to steal something." Somehow, Trest imagined worse. But the look the Bull wore didn't keep his relief afloat for long.

"Yes... sounds trivial, I know, but the others under my employ... well.." she gestured tot he men around her. She didn't need to say anymore.

It was only at this time that Trest dared to pick up anything from the table. The goblet of wine was starting to look really good at this point, and he smiled and raised the goblet to the woman.

"You know, thievery is my expertise. You really are going too far out to hire the best thief.. though I can't blame you. Perhaps my reputation has grown exponentially, but whatever the reason, you'll get that trinket." And he took a swig of the wine as The Red Bull said,

"Good. Because the house resides on Airedale Drive."

And at that, Trest nearly spat out his wine- and he wished he had, because when he swallowed-
he realized he had just gulped down a swig of blood! But the shock of the street's precise location happening to be on his deceased grandfather's street... (a street that really only had a few known houses on it..) didn't sit well with him, as he cringed and saw that knowing look in the Bull's eyes and he had to wonder...
Just what sort of game was she playing?

She could have warned him that there was blood in the goblets. Would have, too, if she would have known that the coppery scent of blood wasn't as pungent to others as it was to her. As she watched his throat constrict and loosen, the blood obviously dropping down his throat, she grimaced.

Kieta got the feeling that the location of their mission was familiar to him, in a distasteful way. But she was still not 100% sure why it still had to be her on the mission. "I still don't see why I'm necessary."

The Bull smirked, addressing her in a demeaning tone, "Of course not." She propped her boots up on the table, picking her teeth with a fish bone. "Yer pretty, small, and deadly. And since nobody will suspect our little noble of bringing a magical thing like you with him, 'specially not in times like these, you'll blend right in and be able to use your little tricks to free my property."

The Bull suddenly dropped her feet, standing up and charging over to them. She gripped the sleeve of Kieta's dress and pulled at it, as if trying to expose her. Kieta clutched the front of the dress as the Bull let out a snort of disdain. "Now that I'm looking at you, you ought to eat. Be more believable if you put some meat on you."  The Bull ran her tongue along the top of her teeth, leaning over to speak next to Trest's face, breath putrid. "You like 'em meatier, like me, right Hawk?"

Plopping down a pouch, the sound of coins clanking together, The Bull withdrew, stalking behind them while she spoke. "This'll do to see you dressed proper. There's some sort of thing going on at the house. Don't know, but something tells me that'd be your best bet at fetching my property back."

Trest just stared at her. He was trying not to gag on her rancid breath.
"So... what are you... implying?" He wasn't sure he entirely got her meaning. But as things began to click..
She couldn't be serious. Was she going to have them play dress up?
The idea of dawning noble clothing....


What was The Bull's angle here anyway?

The Bull continued to pick at her teeth, little bits flicking onto the backs of their shoulders. "Not very often one finds a good little noble playing the thief. Or a rare thing like our little beast girl, here. Seems to me you've both been wasting your blood." She pulled the backs of both of their chairs simultaneously, jerking them away from the table. "So, seeing as you aren't using your blood, I'll make use of it." The Bull flicked out two daggers from her sleeves, and pressed them to Kieta and Trest's necks. "Or I'll find other ways to make use of it. As you've tasted tonight for yourself."

Kieta swallowed against the dagger, but was finding herself being forcefully deposited from the chair. The Bull backed her into a column in the room, tapping her throat with the dagger, towering over her. "And you... I'm certain there's more to find out. Do this job right, and maybe I won't dig too hard. You're the one that's going to sniff out my property. You'll know what it is."

The Bull then pulled Trest up and pushed him towards the door, slapping him on the rump. "Now fly on, little herdlings. You'll be escorted out... Oh, and do leave my clothes."

It was an unpleasant surprise to find that the Bull wanted them out quite promptly. They were ushered to the doors of the place with blindfolds, and then forced to strip down to their undergarments at the doors. Still blindfolded, and now scantily clad, they were led for sometime through the night chill. When the blindfolds were removed, they were located in a small group of trees outside of the city, their belongings dumped out of a bag for them to gather.

Shivering, Kieta rushed to dress, hoping that he couldn't see as well in the dark as she could. She noticed the patchwork of tattoos and scars, and appreciated the structure of his musculature. He looked like no noble's son that she knew of. And so they stood in dark woods in the middle of the night, with uncertainty ahead for her. It had been rather sudden, and she still felt she needed more information. What in the world had she meant when she said that Kieta would somehow magically know what this item was and where it was in relation to whatever place they were supposedly going?

Trest grit his teeth, finding it hard to keep the smile he had been dawning out of survival. Noble posing as a theif.... How could she possibly know? Though it wasn't an impossible feat, one had to really be looking to dig up that part of his heritage. And he had to wonder, just how much more did the Bull know about him?

Sure, he was meant to inherit the Arristaire line, as he was the only one undisinherited, since his grandfather could never forgive his son, but it was that grudge he carried on as an inheritance as well. And though he had no good ties with his family, his status was declared on paper, even if it were unclaimed.

Even his grandfather's estate remained empty, and was something he rarely visited. Could it be there was something within the home of value? Some mysterious artifact his family line kept tucked away? He couldnt say for certain, and let himself get distracted by studying the near nakedness of his companion.

It only stirred other problems he couldn't quell, and abandonned any instincts inappropriate of the moment. But damn if it wasn't a time he could use getting laid. But he wasn't so shallow to ask her that.

He took his time getting dressed, his mind elsewhere as a frown consumed his features and hardened them. And as herecalled back to their moment at The Bull's dining table... Trest was suddenly bent over and heaving out the contents from his gut.

Every step she took resulted in plants bursting forth, her magic celebrating its release from the confines of the unnatural tunnels and city. It was quite obnoxious, to tell the truth, but she was beginning to feel whole again. She felt refreshed and ready for anything, though she still felt cold, and her skin crawled with the filth of the place. What she wouldn't do for a warm hot-spring, or even the cool waters of a river. Even the murky waters of a lake would be better than allowing the feel of that dress to linger on her skin.

Her head tilted curiously as she watched him bend over to retch, and she walked over to him. Kieta pulled his hair back from his face, as she would do for one of her brothers. She used her free hand to pull water from the plants around her, letting the water remain like a layer of cloth on the palm of her hand as she pressed it against his forehead to cool him.

When he had finished retching, she flicked her wrist and grew a small peppermint plant. Plucking a few of the leaves off, she handed it to him, instructing him, "Chew on these."

Acting as if he hadn't just been violently sick, and as if she had done nothing to help him, she looked around the woods. "We should find a place to sleep for the night, but farther from here. And I need to stay out of the city for a bit, if I'm to be of full use on this mission of hers." She slung her quiver over her shoulder with her arrows and still broken bow, rubbing her thumb and forefinger together to produce a small flame to light their way. Not that she needed it to see in the night, but it was a consideration for her traveling companion.

She tried to tell herself that it was simply because she didn't want his fumbling through the darkness to slow them down, but she knew part of her was beginning to feel some sort of affinity for him. It was natural, of course, after having experienced such a harrowing time together. He was her only ally at the moment, even if he was only her ally due to circumstances outside of their control. Any ally was an ally, and it was always best to try and learn how to trust them in some capacity.

He appreciated the gesture, even if it was an embarrassing moment.
"Thanks," he said, giving her a weak smile. "Think.." And he held back a second wretched before swallowing hard and continuing, "I think I got most of the blood out... Oh wait... never mind.."
And he wretched some more.

He was thankful when it was over, and hated the sting left over in his mouth, but having the mint leaves to chew on helped immensely, and the burn from the vomit was soon replaced with the sweet burn from the mint.

It was only then he began to take notice of how the world just came alive around her. It even appeared as if insects were dancing around her. He was transfixed a moment, as it was quite picturesque, but after he realized he had been staring, he found himself asking, "Yeah... so you want to camp out?" he went on, slowly putting on his boots and working on the laces.

"You sure it would be wise? The way the earth is reacting to your feet, I'd be afraid any camp site we'd make would entangle us in weeds."

A wry smile crossed her features as she gestured around herself. "Oh, this?" She watched as a vine tried to climb up Trest's pant leg. "This is what happens when I don't have a proper outlet for my magic. Well... This and much worse. Could have burnt that entire place down, if I wasn't afraid of burning with it."

She began walking after he finished tying his boot, heading towards what she sensed was a source of water. "Better to get it out now. From what I've heard from you, magic users are not appreciated here. So I doubt me walking through town spreading flowers in every small little crack in the roads would be wise."

They continued walking, and soon were in sight of a small pond. She released a small, disappointed sigh. It was something though. "It won't entangle me... You, maybe." The crescent moon shone above them, over the small pond. "I don't know about you, but I need to wash that place off. Turn your back." The small flame at her fingertips blinked out, and she stripped out of her clothes before walking into the pond, submerging herself so that he wouldn't be able to see her form beneath the water. Weary fingers took out the tangled, messy braid in her hair, before she dunked her head to wet it. "It's safe to look. Do you wish for me to turn my back so you can join?"

Trest made a face and kicked off the vines.
"No, I meant the other bouquets springing up in Serendipity."
But when she went on to say it could be worse, he felt his throat constrict.

"Well, I suppose we're both lucky, eh?"

And he continued to follow her, not that he had a plan as to where they ought to go. It was just starting to sink in how much deep shit they were in, and he gave an idle, awkward scratch to his collar. But thinking tampering with it might be unwise, he lowered his hand and peered over at her with a blink when she said to look away. And as she began to undress, he realized why.

It was hard for him not to look, but turn away he did with rigid posture. And when it was 'safe'- he had to laugh at her idea.


And laugh..
and laugh.

Swim naked with a hot chick at night?
Was she begging for trouble?

"Would I?" he wasted no time in clumsily throwing off his clothing and stumbling with splashing foot steps into the water.

"Though I have to warn you, I don't swim very well."
And it was hard to tell if it was in jest or not as he gave her a big, happy grin and simply stared at her radiant form, wet and shining in the moonlight.

"So.. why dont you tell me a little bit about yourself? Seems we're stuck together for the long hall, unless these collars leak their poison earlier."

The fae were not known for their fondness for modesty, and she was not known for her knowledge of men. Of course she knew of men from her many brothers, but they had for the most part ensured she had never needed to worry about men and their urges. When he began to unclothe without warning, though, she quickly turned her back to him.

Despite her distaste for their situation, there was no use fretting about it at the moment. At the moment she was finding herself coming back to normal. After feeling 'backed up' magically for two or more days, this was a relief. A brief respite. When he warned her that he could not swim well, she gave him a rather mischievous smile. "Don't worry, I'm sure I can swim well enough for the both of us."

And, she found, she could also see well enough for the both of them. Her eyes flitted across his form, all of it, before she quickly turned to look away, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Straining to keep her voice as nonchalant and serious as possible, she responded. "Not much to tell. I'm fae, obviously. I'm a woods guide and deliver things. That's all." Well, that would be all if she weren't being hunted by who knows how many Otherworlders. That at this very moment, there were several different factions of the fae after her, each with their own purpose for catching her. Some wished to kill her, some wished to wed and bed her, some wished to use her in other ways. Some just wanted her for her blood and its suspected magical qualities.

She knew her answer would be considered short, so she continued, reluctantly, adding "And possibly a bit more magic than I should have." She swam a bit closer, green eyes curious. "What of you? What is a nobleman doing as a thief?"

"Quite frankly, I don't know what she was talking about. Maybe she thinks I'm someone else? Or.. maybe she gets off on the idea of me in fancy clothing. But you.. you speak of magic? Just how much extra magic are we talking?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, "You might have a tongue like a weasel, but your face betrays you." She imitated his face when The Bull had first singled out his heritage. To add credence to her performance, she took up a mouthful of water and then pretended to choke on it like had done with the blood wine. Smirking, she spat the water out at him, like a little fountain. "But I suppose you have the right to your own secrets."

Finished scrubbing her hair and body, she began to swim further out, "Oh, I don't know. Quite a bit more I suppose."

Trest set his jaw.
Touche!

"Of course I was choking when she said that. I just drank blood." Even though he knew his attempts to deny it were lame, that was one of the reasons!

"Besides, the Bull wants me as a thief, and we both know she's off her rocker." And he let his thoughts trail away as he watched Kieta swim.

Even the water had been cool at first, her body had adjusted to it and it soothed her sore muscles. It felt best against the bruising from getting kicked around a bit, and from her fall into Trest's den earlier the previous day. That moment felt like ages ago at this point.

Once out further, she turned back to face him, treading water. "She wants you as her thief. Not just a thief." She looked up at the moon, drawing from it for energy, kicking her legs out in front of her lazily. "Again, not my secret to know." A yawn escaped her throat, and though she was hungry, she was more tired than anything.

Trest frowned. He didn't like to be put on the spot, and only then finally moved to wipe at the water she spat at his face. He had gone silent, finding himself growing severely tired. And he felt old. Every bone felt stiff, every muscle, sore, and his pride was just a bit too deflated than he'd like.

"Well, as we've both witnessed, the Bull has poor taste. She was probably bored and selected us because we were the unfortunate victims of circumstance."

And he made a face as he swatted at a mosquito that buzzed at his ear.

"Perhaps I'm just too accustomed to people liking to play mind games." She was all too familiar in playing the pawn in somebody else's game. Kieta ducked beneath the water and swam the length of the pond back to its edge, "Look away."

She waited this time, to see him avert his gaze. Slowly she walked out of the pond, her back to him and her hair trailing down her back. Using a spare breeze, she dried herself off before pulling her clothing back on, hair still damp. Even though she wanted a fire, wanted food, wanted comfort, she was too tired. Thankful for her pack, she dug around, looking for any spare food... But no, the last of it had been lost. Pulling out her blanket, she shivered and sat, her back against a tree as she debated offering to let him share her blanket, since he had come along without a pack. They'd both stay warmer because of it.

Trest made another face, and swatted another bug. But he obliged.
"Just hurry up. I think the mosquitoes think I'm dinner."

"Oh... Right...You can look now."

She shifted beneath the blanket, and looked away too. "And come out when you like. You can share my blanket, if you like. The night is a bit chill."

She didn't need to tell him twice. After whacking away another set of mosquitos, he was out of there in a flash. Unlike her, he hadn't the option to dry himself on the winds, but used his t-shirt to soak up his hair and wipe down his body. Then he tossed it on a low tree branch to dry after slipping into his pants. They stuck awkwardly, since he hadn't dried himself properly, but he didn't rightly care, and he was rummaging through his own supplies and pulled out his under shirt to throw on. He was not sleeping shirtless tonight. He'd be eaten alive, and smashed a mosquito on his arm that had been trying to bite him.

"Remind me I'm not a fan of ponds," he grumbled and peered over at her, all nice and nestled in her blanket. He took a seat nearby, arms folded across his shoulder as he sighed and settled in, leaning his head up to stare at the stars.

"How much time will you need to, you know, heal or whatever." He wasn't sure what to call her problem with being 'out of touch' with nature.

Kieta watched as he sat down, surprised at his sudden shift in behavior. Maybe she had touched on a nerve? "A pond is better than having the filth of that place clinging."

When he sat down apart from her, she shrugged, pulling the blanket more tightly around herself. She closed her eyes, but still spoke. "You mean, when will daisies stop sprouting around me?" It was slower now, but there was still the measured growth of plants around her. At least she could control it a bit now, and she used it to grow soft, warmer plants, like lambs ears. "Probably by tomorrow morning. It was a short confinement, so a short recovery."

"What do you know of the place we're to go to? How far is it?"

Trest pressed his lips together in thought.
"It's on the nicer end of town. She wants us to go among the nobles, as if either of us are really equipped for that."

Kieta allowed the vines of the tree to gently form around her shoulders, essentially giving her support. Yawning again, she mumbled something incoherent to him, but couldn't will herself to repeat it before falling asleep.

Despite the discomfort of the cold, and the occasional mosquito buzzing in his ear, Trest found himself completely passing out. Never had he slept so well in all of his days, so when he had awoken, he ached from head to toe. Sleeping up right never agreed with him, however, aches and stiffness were the last things on his mind, when he let out a sharp cry and tumbled over, taking and tearing some thick vines and flowers that had entangled around him as he slept, down with him to the ground.

And wildly his arms flung around, his knife moving, cutting fast as he desperately tried to figure out what the HELL just happened! And once he was free (sans a boot that was, much to his chagrin), still entangled tightly in one of the ever growing vines over his head, he released a noise of frustration and looked around, dagger gripped tightly in hand and the expression he wore screamed, 'What the hell!?'

Kieta slept well, cocooned in the softness of her plants. That is, until she was rudely awoke to the sound of cursing, thrashing, and hacking. She was quick to wake and become alert, trained to never let her guard down while traveling. Her own cocoon of plants retreated, drawing her dagger and expecting to find that they were being ambushed.

This was only to find Trest, covered in leaves and flowers. A light, lyrical laugh escaped her throat as she watched him struggle against plants which had already ceased to grow. "At least you weren't strangled in the night by them?" She thought it funny to suggest such a thing happening... As much as people liked to think plants dumb, they were often quite intelligent. And being intelligent, they could easily read her emotions, and reacted to them. This meant that, when she was not quite in control of her magic, that at least her green magic wouldn't kill her allies. He, of course, didn't know this, and so she used it to her advantage. "What, were you not kept warm by them?"

Trest scrambled to turn himself around, slipping a bit in the ivy that surrounded him. He stared at Kieta before mimicking, "Oh, ha, ha, sure laugh at a man who's the victim! Your plants stole my boot!" And he proceeded to point to where his boot was now dangling aloft, just high enough to be out of arm's reach.

She looked at his boot, grinned, and then grabbed a hold of the lowest branch on the tree. Climbing up, she gracefully walked across the branch until the ivy clasping his boot began to drop with the branch which dipped under her weight. Jostling the branch by bouncing on it, she waited until he grabbed the boot to drop out of the tree. She gripped the branch and then let herself fall the rest of the way, landing softly on her feet. "Right, well there's that."

Her stomach growled angrily, and the hunger she had put at bay the night before was no longer willing to be ignored. "I'm starving. I think I could eat an entire hen house full of eggs!"

Trest watched her, and at first, was simply impressed at the feat, but after a while, he was enjoying the view- so that when the boot eventually slipped from the ivy- it plopped onto his head. With a grunt, he was quick to hold onto the boot and watched as she jumped down from the tree.

"You know.. you remind me of a cat," he went on with a smirk, and sat down as he sent to work at putting the boot back onto his bootless foot. And when he heard her stomach, his own growled in kind.

"That makes two of us." After securing the ties, he stood up and dusted himself off.
"We could hunt something, or go back to town and just pay some coin for someone to cook for us. Frankly, I'm too tired to even consider either option, but we can't just ignore our hunger."

Or the fact he thought her boobs looked nice. Woah wait- was he just thinking that!? Yeah sure, he was a bit of a womanizer, but not in too terrible of a way. It was just that well...
He had no self control when it came to women, and well-
He minded not at all how his forced companion looked, in fact he rather liked the way she looked and her body....


He had to force his eyes away. The last thing he needed was a tent in his pants.

"You any good at hunting? Or shoudl I use my charm and sense of navigation to have the civilized world serve us a plate of food?"

Kieta grinned proudly at him when he compared her to a cat. She quite liked being compared to an animal as agile as a cat, and she liked to think of her movements as being stealthy. But... A frown creased her features, "Cats are actually quite nasty creatures. They kill for fun. I don't do that."

When he asked her about her hunting skills, she lifted her eyebrows at him. In displeasure, she hauled her still broken bow from her quiver. "I am, yes, but the only quick way of catching anything is not available." She shoved it back into the quiver. "I can set up traps, but I'm too hungry to wait. I can fish, but this pond does not seem to have much." She paused, thinking a moment. "I could steal some eggs from a nest? Dig up some grubs? And there are some nuts, berries, mushrooms..." Her stomach growled in protest... Normally she did not let herself get this hungry before planning out her meals.

That was when she caught him looking at her kind of... Funny. A blush rushed across her features, though she wasn't entirely sure why. Self-consciously, she turned her back to him and began to deftly braid her hair back, willing the blush to subside. "Up to you, really."

"Ah, yes," he went on, hands to his hips. "Leave it to the man to take care of dinner. Well, judging by the way the moss grows, and the obvious beaten path of dirt behind me, I'm thinking going that way is our best bet if we want to acquire food the easy way."

Kieta's eyebrows raised again. "Ok... Leave the navigation out here to me. You can take over when we get back to the city." She shoved her blanket into her pack, shouldering it. "And.. Technically, isn't it breakfast?"

She headed in the opposite direction of the beaten path. "This'll get us there quicker."

"Breakfast.. dinner.. its all the same thing when you're on my kinda schedule. Besides.." his stomach grumbled again. "I don't count drinking blood as having my dinner, and I don't think some simple bread and eggs will cut it. My stomach demands meat, real meat, something to sustain me. And something good and heavy to drink, because Angsar save me if I have to play the role of nobility."

He planted his hands to his hips.

"Do you even know what that means? That means we both are going to have to get baths, real baths, with soap. Not like.. what we did in the pond and came out smelling like.. well pond." He sighed, evidently irritated. "And nobleman.... there's one thing they don't smell like and it ain't pond water."

No, Kieta did not know what he meant, not in the least. Sure, they smelled like pond, but she didn't particularly understand why that was a problem. True, there were other sources of water that left a more pleasant smell, but she was accustomed to bathing in natural water sources. In fact, she wasn't quite sure she'd ever had a proper bath before. Sure, she knew what a bath was, but she'd never seen the point in taking one, what, when there were perfectly good hot springs and rivers to choose from. Only the fae court really ever took baths. But she didn't feel the need to tell him this part, in favor of asking. "And... Where does one acquire a bath?"

She looked down at her clothes. "And The Bull was right. At least I know that these clothes are not acceptable to be among courtly people."

"Well, there are bath houses, for start. And I'd say we could go back to my place to have a bit more privacy but well.." His cheeks heated a little. "I'm.. not entirely sure it's wise to go to my home so soon after..."
Well, after all that happened! He still felt as if he had eyes on the back of his head, and he was quick to look around, ove rhis shoulder, at a moving shadow, anything that looked suspicious!

"And trust me, we'll need one if we want to blend with the rich. Nobles prize themselves in smelling like anything but shit, so they turn to perfumes of piss and lavender."
Go figure!

"I suspect you're right. I imagine The Bull has her eyes trained on your little hide out." Her skin crawled at the thought of being watched by any of The Bull's men... Even more so, at the thought of being watched by the Bull herself.

They began their descent into the city, finding their way quickly onto a well-traveled footpath, and then a road. "I want to eat first."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, my stomach only agrees with ya, but we still can't be careless in how we go about. We are being watched. And the Bull will make sure we head to our mark."
And with that notion, he found himself sighing.
"And that means we'll have to make our way over to the address as quickly as possible."

He paused to consider the route.

"I guess we could hit a tavern, get a few drinks and food, get some change and head to the closest bath house. Might even want to purchase some perfume.... and clothing..." He frowned as he thought about it. "And a reason to even be there." His frown deepened. "Damn."

As much as he wouldn't mind pretending to be nobility (even if heck, he was technically a noble far fallen from any status), he'd rather do it on his own terms and being forced into doing ANYTHING always made him one soured grape.

Kieta felt herself being drawn closer to him the further into town they got. He was right. They were being watched. And that also meant they would be expecting her to quell her natural anxiety over being a enclosed city. Several times she felt her shoulder brush against his arm, her eyes on high alert. Self-consciously she touched her fingers to her ears, making sure the braiding continued to cover them.

"We were also told to be properly attired and ready to go there. I think having our stomachs grumbling with hunger might expose us." She continued. "And I am unaccustomed to your courts. I don't know how they are set up. But at fae court, one can attend events as long as they are confident in pretending they belong there."

Pulling her shoulders back, she lengthened her neck and tilted her chin upwards, giving him a haughty look, before letting her body relax. "Do your nobles act the same?"

"Well, yes and no," he went on with a frown. He tried to sound peppy as he usual took in tone, but the day's events had wore him down. "Yes, you must act like you'll belong or they'll chew you up and spit you out. No, in that not just anyone can show up just anywhere." And here, he sighed and paused in the small alleyway they were traveling.

"It's why I'm... not entirely sure how or why she thinks this would work."

He knew she was calling him out on his lineage, but there was no way in hell she could have known about that secret...

Or could she?

She looked at him sideways. Perhaps he wasn't some noble? He seemed to have denied it up and down since they had left The Bull's territory, but she just couldn't get the look that had crossed his features out of her mind. He had looked shocked, and if she was right, a little bit afraid. Even now, she could feel the vibrations of his heart rate increasing. Either he was worried about the implications of being mistaken for nobility, or he really was trying hide something. Trying to bury something increasingly deep.

A man bumped into her shoulder, shoving her against Trest's sturdy chest. On instinct she nearly bared her teeth at the man, but curbed it and glared instead. Her own heart rate was hammering at the busyness of the streets at midday. She stuck closer to Trest, trying to tease. "I thought you could seduce your way into or out of anything?"

"Oh, you going to bring that up now at a time like this? Look at all of this traffic! It's like a herd of buffalo in here. But I guess that's what we get for traveling in the city at mid day.
"Which reminded him why he always tended to avoid it."
Another person shoved into them, this time into Trest, and jostled the pair around.  Trest glared at the other man, and the other man glared back.

"Watch it, pal. With a shoulder like that, you'd think you're out here tackling a wild boar or something."

The man's gaze narrowed at Trest dangerously.
"You aiming to pick a fight, strawberry hair?"

"Strawberry hair?" He reached for his short sword, but didn't remove it from its hilt. "If anything, I think YOU'RE the one calling it out, scruffy. Now I suggest you push aside while I and the lady move on our way. If not, I can always help you shave off your face."

The smell of food drew her attention more than the threat of a street fight, and so she gripped Trest's upper arm. "Come on now, food, remember?" She was beginning to feel rather grumpy from hunger.

When the other man moved for his sword, too, she was positively irritated. Green eyes flashed angrily as she stepped between the pair. "Yes, we can all see you've both got mightily big... Egos." She eyed the front of both of their pants, before crossing her arms belligerently and glaring down the man. "But if you don't go about your way, then I cannot get food in my belly." She took a threatening step towards the man, "And if I don't get to eat soon, I'm going to be in favor of letting 'strawberry head' shave your face off. While he does that, I might be inclined to remove your ego so I might have something small to snack on in the meantime."

The hand the man had been using to reach for his sword clenched into a fist, his jaw tightening in anger as he looked down at Kieta. Grumbling in irritation, he shoved passed her, muttering "Bitch." As he disappeared back into the crowd.

Kieta took a step or two back to steady herself from the shove, glaring at the back of the man's head until she could no longer see it. Turning to Trest, she tightened her mouth, "Here you go talking about promptness, but you stop to bicker like some old hen." Well, to be truthful, she'd wanted to punch the people shoving into them, too. And, to be even more truthful, she could tell that their situation was grating on his nerves as much as it was hers. It wasn't fair of her to expect him to keep up his act of the charming, nonchalant rogue.

Letting the glare drop from her features, she reached out and held his wrist. "Come, you said you wanted a drink and some meat. I smell some close by, am I right?"

"I smell some close by too, but I also smell animal dung and the stink of other men."
Trest's normal jovial mood was easily replaced, and he no longer had the desire to keep on a happy face. "That way, see the stalls? You can see the steam from their meat. That's where we'll find our food."

And he moved with her to push through the crowd, and just as they were about to break through the crowd and address the first, sweet smelling cooked meat vendor on this side of the town, a rough shove sent Trest to the ground.

And when he looked up, he saw it was Scruffy, and about a dozen sinister looking men.

"It's a great day to die, don't you agree?" the man said, and drew out his blade, an ax looking sword, that if anything, looked like a glorified meat clever as it rung through the air as the man slammed in down into an arch, and it cracked into the cobblestone between Trest's legs, which he thankfully moved apart just in time. And he was lucky the man wasn't any closer- one more inch and he'd have been a eunuch!

Kieta felt her hackles raise. This guy had no clue when to quit. Obviously he was the leader of this pack of rabid dogs, and it surprised her that there was not one, or two, but at least THREE gangs in the city. First there was Trest's bunch, who now that she knew the other two, she decided weren't all that bad. Then there was The Bull's organized herd of shit-eaters. They were the worst. And now there was this thuggish group.

Leaning back on her heels and pulling out her dagger, she gave herself a running start and leaped over Trest at the man. The man staggered back, though her body weight wasn't all that much to reckon with. It was the way she was able to get a grip on him, digging her fingers deep into his eye sockets and gouging out his eyes. "I... told... you.." She wanted to shove his eyes down his throat and make him choke on them, but his men were lurching forwards in reaction. They'd been slow, surprised by the small, ferocious woman launching herself at their companion. Tripping the crying man, she retreated to stand beside Trest, dagger gripped tightly in her hand.

She wanted to use her magic. It was SCREAMING at her to release it, but she still knew that something about magic use and this place was not the smartest decision. What would happen if she used her magic? She couldn't know, but she didn't want to find out just yet. Scruffy was now curled in a fetal position, yowling like a skinned cat. She threw his eyeballs at his men like she'd throw a pair of dice, ready for the next assault.

Well....! That was unexpected!
And Trest watched for a stunned moment before the remaining angered men barked out, "KILL THEM! KILL THEM BOTH!"
And before Trest knew what was going on, a man behind him looped a large arm around his throat and began to strangle him, his face quickly turning purple as he kicked and flailed and scrambled to reach for a blade of any kind to get this damn man off-
But Angsar's name was he strong! And his grip was so tight, he swore his neck was going to snap!

Kieta was not strong, but she was quick. And the men, well, they seemingly weren't all that bright or smart. She dodged their heavy axes and their meaty fists, rolling and ducking, slicing the achilles tendons of one man before she saw Trest in trouble.

For all that was good! Why'd he talk back at the Scruffy man if he couldn't handle himself in a fight? She didn't have much choice, did she? Summoning her magic, she hoped it wasn't at first obvious, she use a bit of fire magic to light the pants of the man strangling Trest on fire. There were still too many of them! Rushing forward, she grabbed Trest's wrist and took off in no direction in particular.

Trest gagged and gasped and used his one free hand to clutch at his neck.

"Gods.." he stumbled as he ran, but managed to keep up, the men close at their heels. And ti was only then he noticed, with a smirk.
"Did you.. light a man's pants on fire?" he asked with a croaky laugh. "Remind me I owe you two dinners for that!"

She'd been expecting him to be frightened by her behavior and her magic, or disgusted, or something other than amused. Her fingers were wet with blood where they gripped his wrist! Her experience of humans thus far had shown her that many of them were disgusted by her rather feral fae attributes. Sure, many thought of elves or pretty faeries when they thought of the human-like fae creatures, what with their pretty features and 'wise' and 'just' attitudes. That was just at the surface for those types of fae.

Her kind, well, they were wilder. Hah, hence the human name for them as "wildelves". No, they were wilder, fiercer, and crueler. They did not balk at the injustices of the world, they tore their throats out. When a wildelf decided to defend itself, there was no hesitation. Some humans might call it 'impulse control', she called it survival. The man had swung to kill Trest. She, in turn, gauged the mans eyes out. That was self-control on her part. Normally she'd just have killed the man and been done with it.

As for magic, while most places she had traveled to didn't have a ban on magic as this one did, there was a certain measured fear of it. Sure, her magic could be mistaken as beautiful, such as her affinity with nature, but her magic could also be savage. Fire, she had learned, only sought to manifest itself through her in violent ways. Slowly, she'd begun to learn how to curtail that "burn everything to the ground" instinct.

A wicked grin sprung across her features, "I've been practicing."

She swung them into an alleyway, ran down it, and they emerged in a dense crowd. They were listening to some person give a speech. Pulling him into the crowd, she yanked the blanket out of her pack and wrapped it over his head like a cloak, effectively covering his hair. She could blend into the crowd because she was so short in stature, but he was tall and had the sort if hair that tended to shout "look at me!". That is, unless it was among a crowd of other redheads. Even then, its unusual dark red hue was eye-catching.

The crowd of watchers closed in around them, and Kieta found herself packed with her backside right up against his front. She panted, trying to catch her breath, but the crowd making it difficulty. The thrill of the chase was quickly becoming replaced by the panic of the crowd.

Trest accepted the blanket without a word. Holding it securely over his head, he began to look around. He saw the man who was preaching, preaching something about peace in this time of war. Trest made a face and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Not sure this is the best place to be hiding," he whispered. "Men who talk like him.." ANd he gestured to the fellow on the podium before using a hand to gesture across his own neck as if to slice it with a knife.

"Nothing good comes with voices that are against the Grand Duke. And if we don't want anymore trouble... I say we weave our way through this crowd and get the hell out of here."

She'd never been so packed into a place in her life. When he tapped her on her shoulder she jumped in her own skin. "First place I saw to hide..."

Kieta was stiff, more afraid than she had been in the den of The Bull. Through gritted teeth, she spoke, trying to not let him see that she was frozen in spot, "Well, lead us... out... then."

Trest nodded, and kept his head bent low. A finger pinched at the brim of his blanket, and he noticed the men who belonged to 'scruffy's' gang approaching the crowd. He grit his teeth.

"Plan B... well, plan B is the same as PLan A, except we make our exit as discrete as possible, because we got trouble at 9 oclock... or maybe 10. Wait.. does your kind even use a clock?"

"No... Well,  sort of... Different..." It didn't matter, they were heading out and through the crowd. Trest would have to keep a hand on her to help her get through, because she still couldn't fight down the rising panic.

Once they broke through the crowd they continued to walk, but quickly, trying to not catch any more attention.

Thankfully, if Scruffy's band of men had spotted them, they were already off into a nearby alleyway and booking it. Trest still had his hand on hers, and was all smiles to feel the rush of air around them.

"Whew! Call that a close call!"A nd as they came to the end of the alley, he stopped abruptly, and a smile consumed his face because right before them was a stall selling...

"FRESH FRIED FISH ON A STICK!" the vendor shouted. "TWO FOR A COPPER! GET 'EM HOT AND FRESH!"

And Trest wasted no time approaching the man and saying,
"We'll take twelve!"

Twelve seemed... excessive, but she was more than willing to accept the challenge of filling herself full of them. She panted lightly from the exertion of sprinting, though she was in great shape from all of her traveling. Mostly she panted because she could still feel the panic of being surrounded by a sea of people.

This street was not nearly as bad, but she still held onto Trest's hand, small fingers trying not to grip so strong as to make him realize she was nervous.

His grin was quite contagious! When the vendor held out twelve fish sticks, Kieta wasted no time in taking her share of the food, dropping his hand as she forgot about her fear. Her stomach growled in excitement, and she moved to put her mouth around the top of the fish... And yelped. What the FUCK was this weird coating on the fish?! Kieta's face scrunched up as she ran her brunt tongue across her mouth several times, shocked by the taste. Still, she was hungry. Shaking her head, she tore back into the first one, which had cooled enough for her to not burn her mouth again.

A hand went to her shoulder.
"Woah, there, you might want to take your time eating these. You'll burn more than your mouth if you keep that up."
He knew, he'd done that before!
"You have to at least wait for the fish to cool to a reasonable temperature." And as they began to walk away from the fried fish vendor he foun dhimself asking, "Aren't you used to cooked meat?"

Kieta really didn't have the best impulse control. It was a act of pure magic that she was able to listen to his advice. She really didn't want to burn her mouth or anything else more... But she was so hungry!

She took another bite, keeping her mouth open a bit and breathing out to cool the piece of meat in her mouth, before chewing and swallowing. Licking her lips, she answered his question. "Yes, but this coating is odd. I think it makes it hotter." She was referring to the fried coating on the fish. She finished the first stick and let it drop to the ground, blowing hurriedly at them, willing them to cool. "Plus..." Blow, blow. "I don't really..." Blow, blow. "Eat fish cooked much." Blow, blow. "Or eat meat as often, really." 

Well, that explained a lot!
He scratched his chin.
"I guess the breading might affect its temperature, never really considered that a trait, but hey, we're hungry and its good so..." He shrugged then gave her a lopsided grin.
"And I figured. You the berries and salad type?"
She had the lithe build for it, unlike the stockier men who ate meat for a living.

Kieta's head tilted to the side, curiously, her mouth sunk halfway into another fish. Swallowing it down. "Zallad?" The word was strange in her mouth. "I eat berries, nuts, greens, stuff I can gather from a forest. Sometimes eggs, rabbits, fish, breads. But what's a 'zallad'?"

The second fish stick was finished, and she moved onto the third. She could easily eat as much as a man twice her size, if given the opportunity. She was accustomed to eating when there was food available. Perhaps if food was more regularly readily available she'd have had a little more meat to her structure, but eating was sporadic and small. So, at the moment, it seemed like she was eating like she didn't know where her next meal might be.   

Trest was no better in his own manners as he walked and sunk his teeth into his fried fish stick. Grease dribbled down his chin, making it glisten, and his fingers fell to the same fate, even despite when Trest would go to lick the grease off (for what good would it do if his palms were greasy and he dropped one of these tasty fish?)

However, as she went on to pronounce salad wrong, he paused in mid-bite to look at her, and nearly choked on the meat.

"We'll just go with you're a scavenger then. But hey, you're in luck. In this country? Scavenging for food is a rare art. Most folks live near a town or own a farm, so food is readily available. But, can't say there aren't people that do live off the land that way, eating whatever and where ever."

He shrugged and went on, working on his third fish before he paused and muttered, "Uh oh. Bad dudes at 3 o'clock."

It felt as if they were never going to get to eat in peace! How were they expected to get everything they needed to get done- such as bathing, dressing, and prepping- when they kept bumping into trouble?

Kieta grumbled under her breath and finished off her fourth stick of fish. He hadn't even bothered to explain the word to her! "Would those 'bath houses' be a good place to go to, to hide for a bit while things settle down?"

She was about to ask him why the men were so adamant in tracking them down, but then remembered that she'd gouged a man's eyes out and lit another on fire. These men, however, didn't look like Scruffy's men. They looked more... Official. Beside them, she heard two women gossiping. "I heard there's a fire magic user at large! We're all in such danger!" Kieta cringed. Ah, so they'd caught on. "Yes, his hair was just as red as the fire he used on that poor man!"

The cringe on her face worsened as she turned to look at Trest, who thankfully still had his hair covered. It seemed like they hadn't noticed that it was her using the magic... Made sense, since Trest had been the one under attack by the man she'd lit on fire.

If Trest had heard the gossip, he made no spectacle of it, but did swiftly answer her question.
"Yes.. yes, that's a great idea!" he went on, patting her on the arm as his grin grew. "Come on!" And as he moved to make a made dash away, fish in one hand, her wrist in his other, someone managed to step on the blanket that had been covering him and....

Off slipped the blanket, out came his red hair, and loudly the guards were barking,

"THERE HE IS, MEN! WASTE NO TIME! AFTER THAT MAGE!"

Kieta stumbled a bit as he grabbed her wrist, and watched with great sadness as the fish on the sticks in the hand connected to her wrist began to fall off and onto the pavement. Really, it wasn't a time to be concerned about food, but damn it if she didn't mourn for the wastefulness of it all!

The remaining fish stick in one hand, she followed after him, easily ducking and dodging with him around corners and through alleyways. "I'm going to be hungry again after all this running!" Well, that is if she could fight down the nausea of running on a very full stomach. No, the 'fried' part of the fish was not sitting well with her. It was perhaps the richest food she'd ever had, and it was making her queasy.

"You're a thief, right?" She said between pulls of breath. "Where are your hiding spots? Don't you have them all over? How do you normally get away?!"

"You have to realize one important thing about me, Kieta," he called to her from over his shoulder. "I'm the leader of thieves. I couldn't even tell you the last time I ever stole something!"
And he gave another jerk to her wrist as they made it to another alley way, where he paused just outside the window of a building, but instead of attempting to open and climb on in, his boots gave a tap.

And the metal of the sewer grate beneath his boots replied. He kept his eyes on her.

"Sometimes the best places to hide are the worst places to hide." And he kicked open the grate with is foot.
"Ladies first."

Oh the stench! The stench which rose from that ungodly hole was enough to make her take a step back, her strong sense of smell nearly making her gag. Covering her mouth and nose with her free hand, she looked incredulously at him. "You can't be serious?!"

But he didn't have time to respond, because she could hear the yelling of the guards swiftly approaching. "I can't believe... Oh humans are filthy..." She pulled her hand away from him, plugging her nose with one hand and using the other one to grab at the rungs of the ladder leading down into the sewer.

She quickly descended the ladder, leaving room for him, but when she reached the bottom rungs she stopped. Surely he didn't expect her to actually step down there? Perched on the bottom rungs, she looked back up towards him, waiting for him to join her on the ladder, and she assumed close the sewer grate. "Gods, I'm going to be sick..." And her stomach was betraying her, along with the fried fish. She gripped the rung of the ladder, leaned over, and heaved. The sound of her vomit splashing into what she knew was the canal for the shit and piss of the city. She moaned pitifully, before another wave of vomiting started up, still clinging to the rungs of the ladder.

Kieta, now more than ever, really, truly hoped that his plan didn't intend them going through the sewers, but she suspected it did. Couldn't they just... Hang out here and wait for them to pass? Gods she hoped that was his plan, but even she knew that it would be smarter to pop up somewhere else in the city, far away from the streets where they'd been spotted. This, she decided, was by far the most disgusting moment of her life, even trumping the rotting feast of The Bull.

"Quick, quick!" and he ushered her to step off the ladder rung and onto the small bit of cobblestone that did not dip into the gross sewer waters that moved past them like a stream of shit.. But then again, that's kind of what it was! And her vomitting did nothing to help his own queasy belly, as he tried his best to keep back his own vomit, which only was kept down because a second later, he heard the guards moving up above them, and he put a hand out, gesturing for silence.

The guards moved over head, their forms making the light flicker over head from where he could peer up through the grate. It seemed for now they were safe, and he turned around to look at her and smiled.

"Looks like we tricked them!"

And his facade lasted only two seconds more before the stench and fish in his belly got the better of him, an dhe too, vomitted all that he had ate.

Kieta was barely able to silence herself long enough for him to give her the go ahead. At this point she was dry heaving, eyes watering, tears streaming down her face. He smiled at her! Who the hell was able to smile in a situation like this?! "You're the worst..."

She groaned again and cradled her stomach, sweat beading her brow sickly as she struggled to puke again. Good. Now he was puking, too.

Now that she couldn't puke anymore, only gag, she had the chance to look around. And she wished she hadn't. Gods help her she wish she was blind! Or at least that she had human eyes, because she could see every contour of the sludge of human bowel movements moving in the water. "No, no, no..." She moaned to herself, before clutching her knees and dry heaving again.

A pathetic, broken whimper escaped her, and the sound she emitted was as close to crying as she'd gotten in a long time. "Trest, please..." She was well and truly begging. "Get us the hell out of here!" She extended a shaky, clammy hand, pulling on his own hand. "Please!" She made sure to keep her voice low and quiet, in case their pursuers were still nearby above, but she couldn't keep the desperation out of her voice. It might have been better to have been captured!

Trest was still double over, hands to his knees. He still felt as if he might wretch again and tried his best to calm his breathing so as to limit the amount he'd smell.

"We.. we can either try to go back up the way we came or... or..." Again, he was fighting down another rise of vomit in his belly. "Or find another grate and come back out at a different spot."

But seeing and feeling her desperation, he took in shaky breath.

"Let's... let's try the way we came in, first." Andhe paused, watching her. "Want me to check it out first, or do you feel comfortable doing it?"
Though he figured he shouldn't be wasting time asking her this. Ugh.

What a bad idea, a very bad idea.

It'd be best if she went up first... At least she wasn't the one with the noticeable hair. "I... I can do it." Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she felt her stomach lurch, good indication that she needed to get out of there. As quickly as possible, she climbed up the rungs and reached the top where the grate was.

It was a little heavy for her, but she managed by using her shoulder to get it open. Cautiously, she peered up and around. The alleyway was clear, and the traffic on the streets seemed to have returned to normal. "Seems clear!" She called down at him.

She didn't wait for his reply before pulling herself out and crawling a cross the ground, weak from puking. Sprawling out, she gulped the fresher air, though the stench raising from the hole was still pungent on the air. She felt like the smells would never leave her nose, that she'd always smell and be able to taste the stench forever, unless she burnt it out of her nostrils. Holding her stomach, she squeezed her eyes shut, tears fresh on her face from vomiting so profusely.

Air. Fresh Air!
It was the single most amazing thing in all the land. And the second he was able to indulge, he did.

He seemed to have faired a lot better during their short bought in the sewer than she did, and to see her on the ground so.....
"Well, guess it's time we got that bath, eh? You'll be hankering from one after all that. And trust me, it'll make you feel worlds better."

And before she could protest, he suddenly scooped her off of the ground and began to carry her, bridal style.

"I'm pretty sure the bath house is just down this street. Hopefully we can get the special package," he mused, continuing to carry her as if she weighed nothing at all.

She wanted to protest, wanted to squirm her way out of his arms, but didn't. First, she thought it might draw the attention of others back towards them. As if having the man carrying wasn't enough to do that. And second, well, she didn't truthfully feel all that hot. She settled on scowling at him. "Your hiding spots are awful"

She felt light headed and leaned her forehead against his collarbone, cringing.  She grumbled under her breath, "You try having the sense of smell of a dog, and try going down there again!" It wasn't as if he was making fun of her weakness, but she felt vulnerable and silly. Like some weak princess type, fainting. But hey, she couldn't help it if the smells were so wretched, or that her stomach had already been more than ready to rebel on her even before they'd gone beneath the city streets and into that stink pit after eating the fried fish. She grumbled again. "What a waste of food..."

"Yeah..... yeah."
He could only agree. And there wasn't much else to say, but hey- He couldn't complain to much now. Something felt nice about the moment, just carrying her away from all the mess they'd just been through. Unfortunately... he couldn't simply carry them away from the collars they now both wore.

"Well, here we are," he said, perking up by the time the front of the bath house came into view. He was beaming. "Shall I carry you inside and let them know we'd like a private bath together?" he teased.

That was enough to spur her into retaliation to the closeness, to her moment of vulnerability. Thumping him hard in the chest, she flailed and escaped from his arms, a severe blush highly noticeable across her cheeks. "Don't be stupid!"

Jaw set, she glared at him and turned towards the bath house, the bright blush still painting her features as they entered. He was right, it did smell nice in here, and the warm air was soothing to her raw throat. When she was given a towel, she snatched it up, still too embarrassed to look him in the face. "Right..." She followed another woman into the room, and found herself in an open room with a shallow pool. Several other women were sitting in the pool, washing themselves.

Undressing rather quickly, she ducked into the water and submerged herself, before coming back up and beginning to scrub at her skin vigorously. Her mind, despite herself, returned to thinking about Trest's offer. Sure, she knew that he proclaimed to be... erm, more than comfortable with the ladies, but this was the first time he'd directed any sort of recognizable flirtation towards her. It made sense, seeing as they'd been a bit preoccupied up until this point. A blush heated her features again, and she scrubbed even harder at her skin.

The punch only made his grin grow bigger.
"Suit yourself." And once she was off towards the women's side of the pool, he simply followed her ass-
And had to check himself. Oh boy, what was he thinking? Sure she was cute, sassy.. but now wasn't exactly the time to start flirting with a girl. Their lives were kind of at stake.

But hey... he wouldn't have mind had she agreed.

Moving towards the men's side of the pool, he carelessly tossed his clothing aside and stepped in. It was nice and refreshing as he had imagined, and the oils in the water did wonders on his skin. He could have stayed here forever. And soon he was closing his eyes...


And fell asleep. None the wiser that a few other men had been watching that happened, and they moved towards his clothing- and stole pretty much everything he had on him. And Trest was none the wiser, still sleeping away....

Once she had sufficiently scrubbed her hair, she had positioned herself in from of a little table full of vials full of strange scents. Hopefully he wasn't waiting on her, because she was currently sniffing through each one, her long wet hair plastering across her body. The other women didn't seem keen to interact with her, eyeing the bruises and small wounds suspiciously. Kieta didn't mind this, and after some time she decided on one of the scents.

Mimicking one of the other women she'd seen do it, she took the vial which smelled lightly of sandalwood and dabbed it on her wrists, neck, inner thighs, and hair. Letting her hair dry into soft, clean tendrils, she crossed the room and found her clothes. Sniffing them... her nose curled up distastefully. Looking around, she spotted the pile of cloth a large woman had brought it. Making certain nobody was watching, Kieta picked up the soft cloth and cut off enough for herself... Surely the woman would still have enough to cover herself with. Plus, the woman's dirty clothes were still clean enough if she had to rewear them.

Using the corn flower blue cloth to wrap around herself like a sarong, Kieta scooped up her dirty clothing and shoved it into her bag. Pulling on her boots, she walked out of the bathhouse, expecting to find Trest. His scent was present, but he wasn't. She picked up the conversation of a group of men, clean and unsuspicious, but, to her chagrin, they were talking about stealing. Taking a closer look, she realized that must have been where Trest's smell was coming from.

She put her hands on her hips and glared up at them. "I believe those are my companion's things." She extended her hand out to them. "You'll give them back."

One of the men turned towards her, cornering her against the wall. He placed his hand next to her head, leaning on it. "That right, little lady? Maybe your man isn't man enough to keep a good eye on his things."

Kieta didn't lash out at him like she would have done otherwise. She didn't want to cause another scene. How many more places could they run to? And if they had to run again, would they have to hide in the sewers again? So she bit the inside of her cheek, and feigned boredom. "He isn't my 'man', but those are still his things."

"Not your man? Then perhaps you could do something to earn his things back... At least a few of them, depending on your efforts."

Kieta raised an eyebrow, not quiet understanding what they were threatening. It was clear that they were threatening her, but sometimes the language barrier prevented her from finding the finer nuances of things like this. Not giving them the appropriate reaction, she responded nonchalantly. "You're right, I could sever your man parts and leave you to bleed to earn his things back. But, as you said, that's quite a bit of effort."

Well, the men hardly appreciated such a threat, and though they were bold enough to try to seduce her, they were really quite cowardly and not really up for a fight. After all, their biggest heist was stealing a sleeping man's clothes, and the bag full of gold that-.... they might have spent some of already! After all, their new boots were just too comfortable not to make a quick purchase of, while their boss was more than elated that Trest's boots fit him perfectly.

"Fine, sweets, you can stay here where the fun ain't," And before she'd have a chance to be faithful to her threat, the men turned tail and ran!

And it was about this time Trest awoke, groggily stretching in the waters. And as he made his way to the edge of the pool, he stopped dead in his tracks and looked around.
"Where's my pouch?" his eyes darted around wildly. "And my clothes... and towel..."
Did someone steal even his TOWEL!? Really!?

Kieta was torn between pursuing the men and checking on Trest. Surely if they had his things, he had to be in some kind of trouble! Following the men to the door, she watched them take off down the street, escaping quickly without her pursuing. Gripping the doorframe, she growled under her breath in irritation, before turning around and heading towards the men's side of the bath house. He'd better have been knocked unconscious and bleeding profusely when she found him!

The bathhouse attendant moved to try and stop her, but Kieta ignored her and stormed into the men's side of the bathhouse. "Trest?!?" She called out, concern coloring her voice.

And then she spotted him. Spotted all of him. Sure, she was able to see all of the other men who were reacting to her entrance in various ways, but something about knowing Trest personally made seeing his naked body more intimate. She'd seen her brothers in the nude, but it was entirely different. She'd never felt... Was it impressed? Was she impressed by his body? That was the easiest thing to believe, that she was merely impressed by how strong his body looked.

Mouth gaping for a moment and the blush returning with a vengeance, Kieta forced her eyes up to his face. She forced her embarrassment down and settled on a glare, though her face was bright pink. "How did you let a group of men walk off with all of your things, all of the money, without a fight?!" Her eyes brushed over his body again, this time searching for any signs of wounds. Nothing new, it seemed.

Trest just stared at Kieta as she approached, and boy did she look pissed. And soon he found out why.
"Oh, so that's where my things went."
Maybe playing dumb wasn't the brightest idea, but heck, what else could he say?

"Really?!" She didn't believe him for a second. And to her chagrin, he also didn't seem to be making any attempt to cover himself up.

She leaned and grabbed up a towel, and when the man made to protest, she glared down at him. "I'm taking this." The man, seemingly shocked by having such a small woman storm in during his bath and steal his towel, held his hands up and slowly sank back into the waters.

Kieta turned from the man and threw the towel at Trest. "How could you let your guard down!? You're really something, aren't you? Now what?"

She was beginning to make a scene, the other men in the bathhouse beginning to hoot and holler. One of the men called out, "Oy, fella, been there with the wife meself! Women, huh?!" Kieta turned to glare at him, and he and his friends elbowed one another, laughing. "Get yer woman back under control, will ya?" The laughter got louder, and Kieta's blush began to be one of anger, and not embarrassment.

Trest caught the towel and raised his hand in defeat.
"Alright, alright. But its not like I can help it if I was so exhausted I feel asleep in the bath pool..." And he paused to look her over, seeing that face, before adding, "Wife."

"Besides, I'm pretty sure you were a part of that blame."

The ensuing laughter rose to new heights at his profession of exhaustion. The man who was doing most of the heckling elbowed one of his friends enthusiastically, "Y'hear that!? Hey lady, sounds like it's really your fault for keeping your man up all night!" His grin broadened, "How I'd like t' have me own wife do the same! Hey buddy, let us borrow her for a night, eh?"

Kieta's fists tightened, and it took all of her self-control to keep from using the water to give that man a mouth full of water to shut him up. It really wasn't in her best interests to respond to them, but she turned towards the man. If she'd been a cat, her hair would have been standing straight up.  Voice thick and accented, she swore at him. "You'd best shut your mouth before I make you!"

The men hooted and hollered around him, the one man's face red with laughter. "Oy, lad, is it true what they say about foreign women? Are they better in the sack? Yers looks like she'd put a right good fight!" Bellows of laughter echoed throughout the bathhouse room.

Kieta released a frustrated growl before turning sharply on her heel and striding angrily out of the room. Going into the entry area, she crossed her arms, brooding. She hoped he'd have to walk around the city in a towel alone! He deserved it! Stupid man. Encouraging all those men to laugh at her expense. Her, be his wife? How preposterous!

Trest was smiling and laughing with the rest of them, but once Kieta stormed out, he wiped at a tear from his eye and shrugged at the other.
"I'll let you know on that one," he told the men before fleeting out of hte bath house with a towel loosely wrapped around his waist.

"So... you know who stole my stuff?" he asked, his body dripping so much water it collected a small pool at his feet.

He looked downright ridiculous. Couldn't he have snatched up some garments or something? She'd offer her own clothing, but he was quite a bit bigger than she, and her clothes were fairly form-fitting. There was no chance he'd fit. And her blanket? He'd lost that during their escape from the guards. This man had some seriously rotten luck.

Rolling her eyes, she gestured in the direction of the door. "Vaguely, yes. And they made off into the city." She leveled a meaningful look at him. "And since I thought surely they'd fought you for your things, I had to make the choice between pursuing and making sure you weren't knocked unconscious, drowning in a few feet of water."

It was then he grabbed her by the wrist and nearly lost his towel.
"Wait... you're telling me you had the chance to get my things back but you chose to see if I was alright instead?"
He looked completely baffled.

"What's wrong with you? That had all of our money! And they money is the key thing we need to getting out of.. well.. this!" And he gestured to their collars before he turned away from her shaking, his head.

"Well, which way did they go?" he asked. "Because I'm not entirely sure how else we'll obtain the items we need to pass as nobility without it."

The nerve of him! He was trying to pin his mistake on her! Jerking her wrist out of his hand, she growled. "You're welcome, for not letting you drown! Staying alive is also important to getting out of this."

Shoving her pack into his arms, speaking in a condescending tone. "Wait here, and try not to get these stolen, too." She headed straight into the men's baths, and quickly came back out again carrying a pair of pants. There was some yelling, but also laughing, coming from inside as she grabbed her pack out of Trest's arms and shoved a pair of pants at him. "They'll be big, because they're from that fat rude man."

A small, pleased smirk slid across her mouth before she stepped out into the street and began walking in the direction the men had run off to. "They headed this way. They were dressed rather nicely. Not as rough looking as your crew. Surely you at least know of the other packs of thieves in this city??"

Trest looked at the pants, then at her. He could fit into one of the pant legs. Did she honestly expect him to wear these? And as he hastily attempted to put them, on, he saw she was already walking away.

"Woah, hey now, Kieta, wait for-" And then he fell over with a THUD and OOF. Thankfully he was able to pick himself back up, but he had just gotten a bath, and now dirt was sticking to his face and still wet chest! Ugh!

Once back on his feet, he secured the pants as best he could before following after her and attempting to roll up the baggy pant legs so he wouldn't trip over them.
"Nicely dressed thieves?" he made a face. "If anything, I'm probably one of the nicest dressed thieves there is. Got anything else I can go by? Like what they looked like, like their faces, and did you catch any of their names?"

The way that Kieta appraised others was a lot different than how he might. "Well... They all smelled like the soaps from the baths. That doesn't help... One had a faulty heart." Kieta rubbed her fingertips over her lips, trying to focus on remembering them. "They all wore a shade of blue!"

"The one who asked me to 'earn it back?', he had very blonde hair. Like a woman, almost. He was-- very pretty.Tall and strong, like a lion. I believe he was of a form that I have known fae women to seek to mate with, to produce strong offspring."

She considered this a moment, and continued. "The others were smaller than he, a few of them your size. One had a mark of a bear on his chest, here." She placed a hand on her right breast, and extended it up to her collarbone. "But no names." Well, at least none she had been able to distinguish. Perhaps some of the words she had not recognized had been names.

"Huh... that's strange. I'm not familiar with the tall, lion like man, but the others.. it sounds like some hodge podge group that has collected the out casts from other bands of thieves."

His lips twisted as his brows furrowed.
"I wonder if this is some new thieves guild rising up."
And that kind of mad him a bit miffed. Seriously, there were enough thieves' guilds as is!

Kieta continued in the direction, but was slowing as they neared the last spot she'd seen the men. They were drawing some looks, between's Trest's half-dressed state and Kieta's sarong and boot combo. "Any idea where we might find them?"

"Honestly, I haven't a clue." But as he continued to search, his eyes caught the familiar, cursive sign titled: The Stiletto.

"Wait.. I think I have an idea where some men would try to make quick work of my money." And his long legs carried him swiftly across the street and in through the brothel doors where he was immediately greeted by the smell of sex, and women.

"That's it, humans are by far the most vile creatures I've ever encountered."

Kieta scrunched up her nose from the smell, watching as naked or partially naked women draped themselves over men or began to pull them into different parts of the establishment.

One of the women came up to them, her body thinly veiled beneath sheer cloth. Acknowledging only Trest gave Kieta a moment to look around the room, a blush already plastered across her face. They were here on a mission, she reminded herself. She caught sight of the back of a blonde head, and while Trest was distracted by the brothel woman she slipped away and followed after.

As she approached him, it became clear that it was the lion man. He was hard to mistake for anybody else, as he watched one of his other men retreating into a room. The man didn't seem to be partaking in the women himself, though. Pulling out her dagger, she pressed the tip into his back.

The man looked curiously over his shoulder, "Oh, you again. Are you happy to see me, or is that a dagger in my back?"

"You still have things that belong to me and my companion." Kieta felt naked skin brush against her own bare arms as a woman giggled, pulling a man passed her. So humans gathered at places to mate together? Kieta looked over her shoulder at Trest, wondering if he'd noticed her catch yet.

The moment of distraction offered the man enough time to grab her wrist holding the dagger, backing her against the wall. "If I had known you worked here, I wouldn't have bothered! Seems like the coin will go right back into your pockets anyways."

Kieta tried to jerk her wrist from his grasp, eyebrows quirking. "Work??" What kind of job would she have in a mating den? Cleaning up? That sounded repulsive!

And while Kieta was being thoroughly distracted from the blonde leader from earlier, Trest could barely get an inch in the crowd. The women were all over him. His bare chest, tattoos and scars alike, were more than tantalizing to them. And he coudn't even keep track of the conversations that were being purred all around him.

And if Kieta thought she was blushing, Trest was pretty sure his face was redder than hell! And try as he might to talk the ladies out of confiscating him and luring them deeper into the den, there were rather a lot of the women, and he was soon finding himself being lead away, while a series of soft, women's hands were smoothing all over his chest, whihc only served to help heat his blood and tent his pants and make it ridiculous hard for him to focus on the task at hand.

"So handsome.." one of the women purred.

"And such blue eyes.." Another cued.

"Yes, well-" Trest tried to politely begin with, when another women went on-

"Oh, and such a smile!"

"See those dimples?"

"See that chest?"

And the women all giggled as they were able to successfully pull Trest inside a room, and just before the door closed- Trest caught sight of Kieta. And then the door clicked closed.

"Yes, work." With her wrist still gripped tight, he took the dagger and placed it into his own belt. Using his free hand he brushed it down across her cheek, "You must be new, or I wouldn't have the pleasure of seeing that lovely blush grace those exquisite features of yours. You are deliciously exotic, and now that I have the time..."

Kieta grunted and tried to crane her neck away from his touch, having lost sight of Trest. He reappeared briefly, being led away by a group of scantily clad women, before disappearing again. The blonde man followed her gaze, his hand snatching her free hand as it lashed out towards her dagger. "Oh, is your companion your pimp? Or does he work here, too?"

Hissing, Kieta pulled against his hands, her own hands clenching. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but we don't work here. We came to reclaim what is ours."

"That pleases me. I don't like to purchase my women, anyways." He used one hand to hold her wrists together, the other tugging on her hair.

Kieta felt her hair pressing against the tip of her left ear... He was going to see her ears if he continued! Jerking her head away, she bit him hard on the wrist, stepping hard down on his toes and grinding them with the heel of her boot. He grunted in surprise and released her wrists, and Kieta reached out and snatched her dagger back. Using it, she cut the strings of his purse, which was lighter than their own should have been. They'd already spent some of their money!

The blonde laughed, rubbing his wrist. "That's alright, I like 'em a bit feisty!" Kieta darted away as he moved to grab around her waist, fleeing into the crowd of half-dressed women and semi-erect men. Where was Trest?! She saw the blonde man searching the crowd, the women seeming to know him well enough to get out of his way instead of overwhelming him like they had Trest.

Spotting a door to a room, she ducked into it, pressing her back against the wall and panting, stressed. She could hear... Grunting. Looking in the direction of the sound, she saw what she believed was the fattest woman ever atop what she believed to be the fattest man ever. And she shrieked. She actually shrieked like a shrill little girl, covering her eyes and darting back out of the room, forgetting for the moment her reason for hiding in the room in the first place. Oh gods, the vision that had been! Rolls and rolls and rolls, and the smell of unwashed skin and stale sex. Kieta swore her eyes were bleeding!

With her eyes still covered, she felt a hand paw at her breast, bringing her attention about to find a man the same height as she grinning lustfully at her. "H'w mush fer yew, sslut?"

She punched the man square in the jaw. Just as he was about to cause a scene he shut his mouth, and she felt the feel of an arm wrap around her waist. A hand tightened on her hip, forcing her still. "Move on, good man, this one's for me." It was the blonde man again, and he began to forcefully steer her in the direction of the exit. "This is no place for a lady like you. Though that punch was mighty impressive for a lady."

Kieta prepared for her escape, but when two more of his men showed up she didn't have much of a chance. And she couldn't use her magic again... One, because there wasn't much in this place to work with. Secondly, she wasn't ready for another chase. The blonde didn't move to take the coin purse away from her, but he did lead her outside to the streets. 

If she felt overwhelmed, Trest felt suffocated. Sure, he'd have appreciated this at any other time but now, but he had a mission to contend with, a deal to break, a collar to remove; and those men to find! But no matter how he protested, the women only giggled and made quick work to get rid of his pants, and had no shame that they had brought Trest into an orgy room where, well, a lot of things were happening.

Trest only stared, and stared, and soon found the women upon him and he? At their mercy...

But somehow he managed to get near the window, and opened it upa nd slipped outside. Again, finding himself undressed, Trest crept away from the building and made his way down the street, but upon hearing hte voices of a group of thugs, he hung back and pressed himself against the side of the building, both in attempst to hide his frame from the brothel window, and the approaching men.

And from what he could make out...
Did those men have Kieta? And boy did she look pissed!

The blonde man was bragging, his arm now around her shoulders, hand gripping her like a vice. "I tell you, fellas, this is why I don't buy my women. Why buy 'em when you have them chasing after you like this one did? Right, honey?"

He jostled her, giving her an affectionate smile. "I think this one's the one, men! What do you say, my little flower, make an honest man out of me?"

Kieta's face grew darker, if that was at all possible. She had no idea what this man was talking about, but she didn't like his tone, and didn't like how his hand was gripping her shoulder. They stopped at a shop, and he pushed her in through the door. "I can't have my little vixen looking like a cheap tramp for the party tonight, can I?"

As he had finally released her, she turned around to face him, confused. "What party?"

A pleased look crossed his features. "Oh, just a nice function with some lords and ladies. My father is a very prominent merchant. And since you were so persistent in your pursuit of me, I've decided to reward you with the fortune of accompanying me!"

Could this be the same function that they were to attend? Kieta relaxed her posture. "You stole from my companion, why, then?" And where the hell was Trest, anyways?

He shrugged, smirking, blue eyes twinkling. "Because I become bored, I suppose. Now, little lark, let's see you properly attired. You may keep the coin... I think it endearing to see a woman handle money." He turned to the shop keeper, placing his hands on her shoulders, this time lightly since it seemed she wasn't going to run away again. "Now, I wish for my little bird here to shine tonight." He reached out his hand, and one of his men placed a heavy looking pouch of coins in his hand.

He handed it to the shop keep, who curtsied and took the money. "Of course Master Gannon. She shall not need much help, you have chosen quite a lovely creature to accompany you." It was evident that this compliment was more to appease Gannon's ego, rather than compliment Kieta.

Kieta was ushered back into the back of the shop, leaving Gannon with his two men (who she now realized were bodyguards) in the waiting room. Kieta was stripped down, poked, prodded, and pinched. The woman tsked. "Not a spare bit of softness in you. M'lady, you really should consider more appropriate activities that will not toughen you so unattractively. It makes my job quite a bit deal more difficult!"

She was eventually sewn into a soft silk gown, a dark blue clinging thing which hung to her ankles. The back draped, leaving her exposed to the small of her back, and the front made her modest breasts appear more generous. When the woman made to touch her hair, Kieta finally reacted, baring her teeth. "I will do it myself." So the woman set to fixing the hem of the dress as Kieta made quick work of braiding half of her hair up in an intricate fashion, covering the tips of her ears beneath layers of braids.

When the woman moved towards her face, Kieta was hissing again, but this time the woman batted her hands away. "It's just makeup, dear!"

It was a bit longer before her face was caked in the strange smelling, cloying substance called makeup, though the result was quite pretty. She was given a delicate necklace of yellow gems, and soft, useless strapped shoes. If one could call them shoes at all. She felt like some sort of doll, restricted in the flimsy clothing.

Despite being naked, Trest followed after Kieta. He couldn't believe his luck, but then again, those women were very direct and ambitious! He couldn't deny that, had he been by himself, he'd probably consider staying for a while, but now was not the time.

He needed clothing again, which was beginning to be a reoccurring theme, much to his chagrin. ANd he had to find Kieta. Those men reeked of bad news, and he wasn't about to let her be tossed around and bullied by those creeps. Tip toeing lightly, he spotted the men entering a tailor shop. He studied the sign before studying the streets, and crept his way down the back alley where he ran most unfortunately, into a lady carrying a tall stack of boxes. She nearly dropped them, but Trest made a quick move and helped her catch the toppled heap.

He helped her readjust them, and as the woman went to apologize, she saw Trest...
All of Trest, and screamed. Not only did she scream, but she dropped her boxes and turned tail to run. Trest cringed and looked down at the boxes by his feet. And noticed it was clothing.

Hurriedly, he rummaged through the boxes but to no avail- they were all dresses.
But then again...
He really couldn't continue going around dressed as he was, and with a inward groan, he slipped into a loose pink dress and moved towards the back of the building. He felt ridiculous, but there'd be time to rectify that later, who knew how long Kieta would be inside, and when he finally found a window in the back storage area of the building, it wouldn't budge.

"Angsar be damned," he groaned and grunted and kept working at the window. But he gave up after a few minutes before noticing a stairwell perched in a way that allowed access to a small balcony above. Wasting no time, he jumped to the last rung and pulled himself up, and crawled up and onto the ladder and was soon on the balcony and slipping in through the second floor door.

Inside, the room was dark as pitch. It took him a few seconds to let his eyes adjust before he noticed a door on the other side of the room. As he made his way to it, he paused when he walked past a mirror and could NOT believe he was looking back at himself in a dress! Shaking it off, he told him, "Focus, Trest. It's either the dress or be naked."
But considering how foolish he looked and felt, he was starting to think remaining naked would have been a better idea.

But again, he needed to focus, and soon opened the door and rushed out into the hall, to where he spotted a spiral staircase leading into the back of the shop. He saw shadows moving below, and the murmur of voices. Straining, he could make out a woman helping someone else-
and from what he could deduce, it had to be Kieta!

Holding his breath, he began to tip toe down the stairs, but the moment he was down there, another worker walked into the room. He side stepped behind a coat rack, which thankfully hid him from view, and though the woman who was passing by had to do a double take, she shrugged it off before continuing on with her work.

Once she was gone, Trest peered out from beneath the coats and down the narrow alcove to which the dressing screens resided. All he could see was feet and movements, and the barest silhouettes. But upon hearing Kieta's voice again, he wasted no time in stepping in behind the screen. And he found himself frozen in place as he looked at Kieta, painted from head to toe in a lavish, sweet silken dress, and a face that- though strange at first, appeared quite pretty wth the make up on that he never considered she's ever wear-

And he wasn't the only one frozen in place, for the assistant simply turned around and gaped at the man in the pink dress.

Kieta had heard him, and then smelt him, before she could see him. It'd taken him enough damn time!

The scowl on her face disappeared to one of chagrin as he appeared, in all his pink glory. A laugh threatened to emerge from her throat at the sight, and what a sight he was! The dress has frills and lace, as if the gown had been made for a grown woman with a young girl in mind. And how it clashed with his red hair! While she was still extremely displeased with her own outfit and forced primping, she could at the least say she wasn't as much of an eye soar as Trest.

"Woman! Come, we don't have all day!" The sound of the yellow headed brute's voice boomed through the door, and at the sound of it the woman turned around to catch sight of Trest. Thinking quickly, Kieta sucked in her breath, sucking the air out of the woman and forcing her to swoon, but not go unconscious. Before she could make a sound, she shoved a swath of cloth into her mouth.

"Quick!" She whispered, a snicker of amusement quick in her voice, "Grab something to tie her up, little miss!" She couldn't help but add the last part, the grin on her face wide, her eyes twinkling with mischief. She was going to give him hell about this one!

Trest shot her a look for her comment, but made quick work to snag a scarf as he began to tie her.
"So tell me again why I'm doing this? Is this woman in cahoots with those lug heads? Oh, and the dress is meant for you. But it looked so soft and positively garish that I just HAD to try it on!  And dare I say it is immensely more fashionable than yours?" Even though she looker amazing.

Kieta stood up, and peeked out from beyond the door to make sure the men outside weren't any the wiser to their movements.

Kneeling beside him awkwardly in the dress, she kept her voice low. "I know, isn't it awful?" She felt extremely self-conscious, worried the material of the back of the dress would expose her rear end, and that she was going to fall out of the dip in the front of the dress.

"We don't for her to ruin our chance by causing a scene. The blonde man, he is to take me to the gathering that you and I are supposed to somehow get into. That gets at least me in. Haven't thought the rest of it out, but it's better than nothing."

Pressing her fingertips gingerly to her face, she looked to him. "Is this... Is this weird? This 'makes up'? I feel like my face is suffocating. Surely I'll stand out?" 

Trest blinked as he stared at her.
"Clever girl. Glad you were able to make use of this unfortunate scenario, but now... perhaps you can find a way to get me some man clothing? Cause as much as I know this dress is flattering on me... I'm not used to the draft."

ANd at her inquiry on her make up, he simply replied, "And you look fine. It's something women just do when they have too much money. They all try to look like dolls."

"Not clever, lucky." She smirked at him then, viciously amused, "What, you don't think you would fit in at this party in that thing?"

She began rummaging through the stacks of clothes in the room. "There's bound to be something in here."

The blonde's voice drifted in the gap of the door. "I don't have all day, my little minx! I'm certain you look just fine, don't be shy and come out!"

Kieta audibly groaned, catching a reflection of herself in the mirror. The collar. It now stood out very obviously, like a soar thumb. "Before you find yourself clothes, find me something to cover this up! And please, do share any plans you might have brewing about this whole mess. I don't have too good a feeling about being his date."

"Well, you can either hide it with a large, gaudy piece of jewelry... or I can look for a scarf," he pointed out.

Even Kieta knew that a scarf would not go with the outfit, and would draw more attention to her than the silver collar around her neck. Stupid Bull hadn't even thought this one through. She moved over to the chest of jewelry the woman had prattled on about earlier, and flicked through it with her fingers. Delicate jewelry hung all over, but she finally lucked out and found a heavy silver choker. Perhaps the choker would make the collar look like some sort of fashion statement next to it?

Didn't matter, it was her best option. Clasping the innately ingrained choker around her neck above the collar, she grabbed up a pair of scissors and tucked them into the cloth at the waist of the dress. Inspecting herself in the mirror to make sure the scissors weren't visible, she turned to Trest as the blonde oaf called again. "You better figure a way in..." The threat was serious, but it was also made out of fear. Fear of the unknown situation, fear of being locked away in some aristocrats manor house like a pet.

Kieta gave him a meaningful look before she rushed towards the door, following the sound of Gannon opening it up. She wedged herself between him and the room, pressing herself unintentionally up against him as he stumbled back a few steps. Reaching behind her, she gripped the doorknob and pulled the door the rest of the way closed while he was distracted.

His hands gripped her waist. "Why, eager to see me? I can't say I'll complain, as you look positively delicious." He spun her around and forced her forward, motioning to his men. "Look, my woman cleans up nicely, doesn't she?"

Her eyes caught on the man who held her pack and weapons... Could she discreetly get at least her dagger back? The thought was incomplete, for she was being hustled outside, Gannon's arm linked in hers as he led her down the street.

All the while Trest was trying to help her, he felt as if he were having butter fingers, and just left the jewelry rummaging to her. When she found something adequate, he was realized, though it did look a bit odd, but then again- who was he to judge women's fashion? Besides, the more he looked at it, the more he kept looking at her boobs...
And remembering how nice she fit in that dress.

But they had to act fast, the men might catch on that something was up and as Kieta slipped out, he simply nodded to her and as she left, he muttered under his breath, "Right.. now to figure out what to do about me..."
And as he looked down the back of the shop, he sauntered over to inspect a rack of some very fine looking clothes indeed.

Lifting up a royal blue one, he measured it against his body and smirked at how it complimented his shining blue eyes as he peered over at a mirror.
"Why yes.. I do say blue is much more my color."
And not to mention style. Dresses, after all, were for women!

She was led to a very nice looking home, which she initially assumed was the event venue, but soon discovered was just one of the many homes her date owned.

He led her inside, "Now, don't touch anything or move too much. I will be back shortly." He left her and returned a few minutes later, dressed in a dark blue to match her own gown. He had brushed his blonde hair into a low ponytail, and she found him quite visually appealing. His hair was an unusual color, like wheat in the summertime. A grin spread across his features as he caught her looking. "Starting to warm to the idea of being my woman, aren't you?"

Kieta scowled at him, crossing her arms. "A pig in fancy clothes is still a pig."

Gannon moved forwards towards her, and although she thought he might strike her, he instead gripped her chin between his fingers. "Touchy, aren't we? Now, come, we shall have to leave at once in order to arrive fashionably late instead of rudely late."

They were met at the doorstep by his guards, who stood holding the doors open to a carriage. Well, not that Kieta quite understood what it was, because she'd never ridden in one before. He helped her in, and when the doors closed behind her she felt her heart fluttering in her chest at the enclosed space. Gannon stretched, and lazily rested his arm around her shoulders. Growling under her breath, she gripped his wrist and flung his arm off of herself. "Don't. Touch. Me."

"You don't want to fool around before we arrive? Don't play coy, I'm sure a little minx like you knows what to do..." He trailed his fingertips along her collarbone, and if it weren't for the greater threat of dying for failing the Bull, she would have killed him right then and there.

Breathing deeply in through her nose, she internalized her disgust. "You'll muss the dress."

A look of irritation crossed his features, as he began a retort, "You're mine for the night, and if you think for one moment I care about what others think about you or what you look like then..."

The carriage door opened, and his guardsman peered in. "Master Gannon, we have arrived."

Gannon gave a smooth smile and sat back away from her, smoothing his hands down his legs. "Well then, we'll have something saved for afterwards, won't we little flower?"

Kieta ducked out of the carriage and was met with site of the largest house she had ever seen in her entire life. Well, besides castles, of course. Or was this considered a castle? The estate was large, and she looked down the driveway towards a distant road. Gannon gripped her arm in his, leading her up the steps and through doors which were opened for them. They were promptly led down a hallway towards the noises of laughter, talking, and music. The manor was stunning, and she knew that each item they passed was most likely worth a lot in human money.

They reached two large, ornate doors at the end of the hallway, which they paused beside. Gannon addressed a man dressed in frills, "Master Gannon, and my mistress..." He looked to her, as if about to ask her name, but thought twice of it. "My mistress Delphie." He nudged her, pressing his lips against the hair covering her ear, "For Delphinium, because you're my little flower..."

She could have gagged. There was no time for her to adequately show him her disgust, for the doors were being swung open onto a large open room full of fancily dressed people. The announcer stepped up and called out loudly, "Master Gannon and Mistress Delphie!"

Only a few eyes glanced over at them, though as Gannon led her into the crowd she could hear whispers. One woman even spoke clearly enough for her to completely pick her voice out of the crowd. "Absolute rubbish, Lady Opal, I do say! You don't think he has brought another prostitute to the party, do you? She does not look it, but Master Gannon is so fond of disgracing his father by bringing such guests!"

A flush rose to her cheeks. They thought she was like those women in the sex house? Straightening her shoulders, she tried to elongate her neck and feign as regal of an aire as she could. Tonight, she would play the part of a maiden of the fae court. She caught the eyes of the particular woman, and gave her as icy and as regal of a look as possible. When the woman blushed and looked away, Kieta turned to find Gannon regarding her rather peculiarly. "Now, that is the first time that I can say I've seen the Countess turn that color. How endearing!" He plucked two glasses off of a passing serving tray, and handed her one. "Now drink. We don't want you wilting on me before the night is through!"

Kieta took the glass from him and eyed the strange golden contents, but forced herself not to sniff them in front of these people. What was it? She took a tentative sip, finding it sweet and strong, accompanied by a pleasant warmth as it slipped down her throat.

He was quick to discard the dress from his form, but stuffed it into a bag with hopes to give it to Kieta later as a 'gift'. After all, clearly she liked dresses! And this pink one was the frilliest of them all. He was more or less standing there naked as he stumbled into the other clothing, and just as he was working on his pants, of course someone had to walk in on him- and it was a pretty little thing that couldn't have been older than eighteen, and the second her eyes caught him, and saw all of him,s he swooned.

Trest managed to catch her before she hit the ground.
"At least I know I'm not losing my charms," he muttered, and carefully set her aside before he finished dressing. Giving himself another look in the mirror, he saw what a mess his hair was, and though it went with his roguish good looks, he supposed it wouldn't be acceptable to where they were going.

So he made do with what he had, sneaking into here for a shave, going over there to swipe a hair brush, and even lifting a few extra jewels to help accent his attire (he had piercings after all, might as well make them shine!) And soon he too, was ready for the ball. With his hair worn long, but half in a tail, he managed to unbraid his hair and brushed out the waves, and felt funny for not having them, or the beads that adorned them, bouncing against his hair, but he had to look like the noble man he never wanted to be if he ever wanted to get out of this alive. And he couldn't help but wonder what sort of cruel joke this was being played on him.

Either way, he had to at least think about another goal in mind, after all- saving Kieta from that smug bastard. The way she obviously loathed him made him grin, and thus began his long journey towards the manor, and ugh, he dreaded it every step of the way.

Kieta began to feel funnier and funnier the more the drink she finished, and she was peering into the glass with some measure of perplexed curiosity when her hand was taken up. Looking up, she met Gannon's eyes and had him plucking the glass from her hand. "A dance, then?"

She didn't have a moment to refuse before she was being pulled bodily out towards the other dancers. Never in her life had she danced, other than the silly jigs and reels of the faeries that her brothers would toss her around during. This slow, purposeful, dancing was intimate, but she felt clumsy and foolish as he guided her through the steps. It certainly didn't help that her head felt... Fluffy. Bubbly... Feathery... What was it she was here for again?

Oh yes, something about retrieving something for the Bull. Speaking of The Bull and their job, where was Trest? Part of her suspected that he was caught between the legs of another wanton woman, and was going to leave her to resolve this task herself. Distractedly, she began to try to suss out the source of whatever it was that The Bull had thought she'd notice. She assumed The Bull wanted her to uncover some sort of magic, and that magic would lead them to whatever object...

As her mind wandered, she was brought back to attention at the feel of Gannon's hands dropping suspiciously low on her back. When she tried to recoil, he had her up against him for a slower song, and he was smiling down at her. "Or perhaps you don't have much experience? The blushes you're giving me are quite lovely." He reached and plucked another glass of the strange liquid and deposited in her hand, "There, little dove, have another."

It was ironic to think he'd have to enter in through the back- and up on a second floor window, because he didn't have an invitation (those dumb asses saw to that!) and he didn't exactly wish to draw anymore attention than he and Kieta might. He also knew he was racing against the clock, and made quick work to climb up and in through the window, and crept his way towards the lower level where the draw of the music made it clear where this party was.

And after descending down the large staircase, he saw the opening to the ballroom, and with each step down, he felt his belly sink lower. He had barely any memories of a time when these sorts of things were present day. But he did recall how upset his grandfather looked each time he saw his parents, and even himself. Though he wasn't as rough with him on his tongue and interaction...

Trest was brought out from his thoughts when he saw Kieta on the dance floor. And the smirk that bastard wore that danced with her...
He felt like punching it clean off his face.

ANd as gracefully as he could, he strolled across the dance floor, plucked the drinking glass away, and proceeded to clear his throat.
"Might I cut in?" but he didn'tgive the man a chance to reply, when the glass was handed over to blondie and Trest cut in and swept Kieta away to a more private area on the dance floor. And ince the dance was slow, he held her close, but kept his blue eyes trained to the man before looking down at her with a smirk.

"Sorry I'm late. Had to get in through the back." Which would explain why his palms were sweaty.

Kieta flinched when another hand pressed against her ribs and a hand took the glass away from her. Her head felt quite fuzzy, so it took her a moment to register what was happening. But seeing the red hair of the man pulling her away, and then honing in on his face, she gave a sigh of relief to find it was Trest.

Smiling up at him, her cheeks flushed from the mead, she felt a swell of joy at seeing him again. In fact, she felt almost giddy to see him! "Trest!" She let herself get caught up in the moment, standing on her toes and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Her quick smile turned to a rather over-stated scowl, her facial expressions unpredictable with the drink. "I thought you had decided to go back to the whore house."

The scowl disappeared as she smiled again, goofily, pressing up against him in a hug. Why was she feeling so affectionate? Leaning up by gripping his shoulder in her hand, she pressed her lips against his ear like a conspirator, whispering a bit loudly, "I think there's something in the drinks, I feel odd!"

The wrist of her hand held by Trest was gripped by another hand. She turned to face Gannon, a bit surprised. She'd completely forgotten about him for a moment!

Gannon gripped her wrist, giving Trest an icy smile. It was clear he didn't recognize him from the bath house. "Seems I have made my date a little too desirable. But, good sir, you've had your dance and I'll see her returned to me now."

And that's when Trest pressed the flat of his hand on Gannon's chest to keep their distance.
"You have five seconds to let go of my date's hand before I punch your nose into your face," Trest told him, pleasantly, but with no mistaking his threat.

Kieta tried to tug her wrist out of Gannon's grip, concerned that they would start drawing attention to themselves. A fight would certainly not do them any good, but she was having a difficult time unscrambling her brain enough to form a sentence in a language they would understand. So she did what she could and wedged herself between them, hiccuping as she swallowed, facing Trest first. Reaching her hand up, she touched his collar beneath his shirt, meaning to remind him of the importance of their staying covert. 

As she made to say something she was tugged back to Gannon, who apparently had the patience of a spoiled child. She frowned up at him and tried to push herself back. "Let go."

Gannon glared over her at Trest. "I did not see you bring her in, so it's fairly presumptuous of you to try and steal her. Plus, as you can see, she's quite happy where she is. Now, if you touch me or my woman again, I will have to be the one doing the punching."

At that proclamation of possession, Kieta snorted, swinging her head around so she could share her good humor with Trest. "Y'hear that? His woman? Ha! He's funny, right?" But Trest was looking anything but amused.

Raised by a rebellious father, Trest had only one option available- and that's when he popped his fist hard across Gannon's face and the man, though having tried to puff up his own chest to win this verbal fight, hadn't considered the other man would actually go through with it. And he went down, cupping his nose as warm blood began to gush out.

If there was one thing she wished was possible in that moment, was that she could somehow slow or pause time. Trest had literally chosen the worst response to the situation, because even she knew that a rich person's party was not the most appropriate place to solve problems with a fist. What to do?!

The people around them had backed away to allow them space, and Kieta summoned up the courage to act. Thinking quickly, she fanned her face frantically, her voice pitchy and delicate, "Oh my!" And she did something as dramatic as she could think of, placing the back of her hand against her forehead and "swooned" against Trest's arms. Speaking loudly so that those around them could hear, she willed her voice to quaver, "Oh, M'lord, thank you so much for saving me! He tried to tell me that it was customary to touch me so vulgar in this place, but it is not heard of in my culture!" She suppressed a hiccup, hoping the wooziness she felt from the drink (not that she could place the source of her wooziness properly), would come off as weakness from the shock.

One of the men stepped forward and dragged Gannon to his feet. He was older, and resembled Gannon so much that she assumed they were related. Her suspicions were validated, as he coolly regarded his son before turning to her. "My apologies, m'lady, for my son's behavior. It shall not happen again."

Gannon jerked his arm out of his father's grasp, glaring at Trest and Kieta as he took a handkerchief offered by one of his men, wiping the blood off. She watched as he visibly made an effort to disguise his anger, giving a curt smile. "Twas only a misunderstanding, father, nothing to concern yourself with."

One of the nearby women heckled from the side. "Master Formogenhet, your son is truly out of line! First, bringing a prostitute to a function, and now assaulting a vulnerable foreign lady! You should send him off to learn proper manners!"

Kieta continued to lean against Trest for support, speaking as meekly as she could. "I... Think I need to sit down..."

Luck must've really been on their side. Had this man not had a reputation, Trest would have been kicked out of the ball. But he was taken away from his moment of victory when he realized Kieta actually appeared that she might swoon for real.

"Woah, take it easy, alright?" And he moved.to guide her to a nearby fainting couch and looked her over.
"I never dreamed a woman like you could ever get a fainting spell." But as he observed her, he saw how flush her cheeks were.
"Hey.. are you sick? It looks like you ate bad eggs."

Kieta stumbled a bit on their way to the couch, and hiccuped drunkenly. Covering her mouth, she gave a soft, private laugh, before closing her eyes with a silly grin on her lips. "Mimicry, Trest. Mimicry." She fluttered a hand in the direction of a woman swooning at the sight of the blood on Gannon's face.

Hiccuping again, she swerved forward and onto the couch. "Bad eggs?" Pushing out her hands to balance them against his chest where he was crouched in front of her, she felt her body flush. She tilted forward, fidgeting, shaking her head lightly. "Bad drink?"

That was all she needed to say. Trest leaned back some and sighed.
"Well... so you're telling me you're drunk?" At that, a small smile crept across his face, and grew a little more at seeing her blush.

"I am not!... Wait, what's that even mean?" She hiccuped and then grinned again, leaning forward even more as he leaned back.

She patted her hands on his shoulders, rather heavily, "Whatever it is, 's fun! But bad?" She shook her head, squeezing his shoulders. "How'm I s'pposed to... Whatever we're s'pposed to do?" She leaned her forehead against his, looking him seriously, drunkenly, in the eyes.

"Well, for starters, you should have avoided the drinks," he went on, smirking and just looking her back into the eyes without a flinch. "You'll give men the wrong idea. No wonder that fool was slobber over you. But hey, as you brought up," he went on, giving her a patronizing pat, "We've got a job to do. So we'll have to figure out a way to get you to sober... or to work while you're, well, drunk."

Kieta frowned dramatically, "How's I s'pposed to know y' drink poison for fun?"

She closed her eyes to shake her head, but ended up bumping it with his. Careening back, she narrowed her eyes, trying her best to focus on the crowd. To focus at all, really. And she caught Gannon eyeing her like predator seeking prey. Drumming her fingers across her lips, she briefly noted it, "I got 'drunk' quick. Not drinks. One drink. He looooks fishy. Well, not like a fish, like a snake. Noo..." She tapped her fingers across her lips, trying to assess what kind of predator he reminded her of.

Shrugging her shoulders, she moved on, closing her eyes so she could focus on the magical vibrations pinging through her ears. Usually, in nature, they were variations of humming, like soft music. But what she finally picked up... Standing up quickly, she swayed on her feet again, grabbing at Trest to balance herself as she narrowed her eyes in concentration in the direction of the high table. "Mmm... Somethin' there, Trestaroo, I thinks." She hiccuped and massaged her temple. "Not right, not right, not right. Like screechy sounding." Without waiting for him, she took off boldly across the room, if not zig-zagging a bit through the throngs of people.

Trest shrugged on the comment about drinking poison.

"Yeah, well, you'll get used to it. Humans like being stupid."

But before he had a chance to even deduce the next bits of what Kieta was sputtering, she was off into the crowd and he was left to stumble afterwards, and awkwardly followed after as he excused himself while weaving through the dancers.

Once they made it off the dance floor, he tried to nonchalantly escort her aside, keeping one arm about her and the other one gesturing forward.

"Now, now, honey, this isn't exactly how we're to act at a party!" he went on, trying ot be as casual about it as he could but they were certainly getting some funny looks!

Her ears were positively itchy from the vibrations from the magic. This was some serious magic, magic she wasn't familiar with! She couldn't quite remember why she was going to fetch this magic or whatever the magic was protecting, but the curiosity to uncover it was tantalizing. Not a lot else was going through her head, what with seeing black dots crossing her vision, as she headed across the dance floor.

The feel of his arm around her caught her attention, which made her realize she had caught the attention of a few others. For the second time during the night. Or the third? She couldn't remember, but she absolutely hated it. She pressed the back of her palm against her forehead, feeling clammy and disoriented. Rather loudly, she proclaimed, "Darling, I think I will take fresh air. I am feeling faint." Was it a good enough excuse for her to exit through the doors leading towards the magic? She was unsure, and decided that in this moment Trest was most likely the best one to make judgment calls.

Trest nodded.
"A dapper idea, my darling," he agreed, and ushered her out hastily onto a nearby balcony that had a sweeping set of steps that lead down to the terrace before the gardens, but Trest could care little for those details as he side and loosened the collar of his cravat.

"So.. what's up? You were looking like a hound after a fox back there. You sensin' somethin'?"

Kieta looked out into the night, narrowing her eyes though having decent night sight. Down the stairs and out in the garden, she could barely make out a disturbance. Something was somehow being obscured from her view. Shoving her hair back behind her ears, she tilted her head in the direction to better feel the vibrations of magic. Dark, shrieking, peeling, magic.

Trest's question brought her attention back around, "Something not right..." She made for the steps, but her legs were still not working quite right. Gripping tightly onto the railing, she slowly began to try and make her descent.

Seeing her this drunk was cringe worthy.
"Hold on there, princess," he went on, quick to her side and hooked arms with her. "Take it one step at a time." And as he made sure he had her steady, he went on to ask, "What is it you see? You're obviously seeing something. What is it?"

Glaring at him, but having to look back at the steps to keep herself from totally making an ass out of herself, she replied mirthlessly. "Ha,Ha. I know you're making fun."

"Dark, creeping magic. Can't see it, I feel it." She tapped her fingers against the tips of her ears, swerving a bit more into him with the effort.

"Don't worry, little flower, I'll make sure you can see mine, as well as feel it." Gannon stood further up the stairs, but was making his way down. "Seems like I didn't put enough into your drink. Tougher than I thought, I'll grant you that." He pulled out his sword as he swaggered down the stairs confidently. "Now, my fellow gentleman, you must understand I cannot have you absconding away with something that is mine. I invested a good deal of money on this one today, so you'll have to go scavenge somewhere else."

Trest groaned and gave the man a soured look.
"Yeah... We kind of don't have time for that, so find someone else to bother. Can't you see we're busy?"

Kieta hiccuped and pivoted on her heel, glaring up at Gannon. With her arm still linked in Trest's, she stretched her hand out towards the garden, summoning one of the vines up towards her to wrap around her arm. "I will get this.."

But she didn't have the opportunity to do anything with her slow motor function, because Gannon had a look of shock and disgust on his face. "Guards!" He bellowed, reaching for the door and ripping it open. "We have a mage out here!"

While Kieta wasn't quite sure what any of that meant, she did have the feeling that they didn't want to be visible when the guards came. "I think..." Oh, she felt like she was going to wretch as they began running, her head spinning. "I think I can get us to the not-place."

Stumbling along, being supported and leading Trest, she closed her eyes and let her ears lead her towards the humming... There was a slight resistance in the air, like running through water, and suddenly they were in a dark, cold banquet room. The entire structure was made of marble, the only sound the echoes of their own breathing and movements. Her head felt clearer, but the place made her ears hurt. At least they had escaped the guards.

Thankful for the reprieve, Trest used the moment to catch his breath. Blue eyes surveyed the area before he gave a grunted sigh.

"This looks like a summer banquet hall." And his sigh that followed echoed. He slowly turned to Kieta as he studied her and rested a hand upon her shoulder.
"Look, I know it might be hard for you to think right now, but the thing we're searching for... you think.. you think it might be here?"

And he paused and added with a bit of a flinch when he heard the guards calls echoing in the garden they had just left behind.
"I think they went this way!"

"They might be hiding in the banquet hall!"

"Be on your guard men, and send word we'll need a mordecai!"



Trest kept his eyes glued to Kieta.
"Well?"
The longer it took her, the riskier staying here got. And Trest didn't exactly want to be skinned alive for association with a mage- innocent (or not.)

Kieta closed her eyes tightly, a furrow creasing between her brow as the vibrations of magic reverberated about the banquet hall. The marble of the room was making it hard to pinpoint the exact location, so she withdrew from Trest and began to take big, drunken steps in all directions, hands cupped around her ears. As she took a big step away from the door to the banquet hall, the awful, screeching vibrations picked up in pitch. Green eyes opening up quickly, she took a sharp inhale of breath and took another step in the direction. She rushed forward and then lost the sound again. Backtracking, much like a hound tracking the scent of a wily fox, she stopped and tested the floor.

Dropping to her knees, she crawled forward on her knees and then pressed her ear hard on the ground. "Under this room. There are under-rooms. Cave hallways, too." She straightened up, looking around the room and then at Trest. "You know human places. You get me to the under-rooms, I'll get you to the screechy-thing." Elaborating to make herself clear, "Gotta be what the Bull wants. Only magic about."

"Under rooms?" Sounded like underarms, both being unpleasant. He sighed through his nose and looked around, beginning to sweat.
"There might be a way down below but we'd have to look from within."
That meant back at the party...
And he wasn't entirely sure that was a good idea.

He heard the voices. The men were coming closer.
Too close. They had to get away- or hide.

He grabbed her hand.
"Come one, and keep quiet, alright?" And he moved to drag Kieta along, and ducked behind the shadows of a tall statue of kings from long past.

Kieta shrugged at him, "Whatever you call them." When he suggested they might have to go back to the party, she inwardly cringed. How was that supposed to work out? It wasn't as if they had been inconspicuous in the last few minutes, and they certainly weren't shapeshifters.

"How...?" Was all she could make out before he was pulling her along behind the statues of the kings. Her heart was hammering in her throat, and if she had felt the effects of the drugged drink before, now all that remained was a terrible headache from the screeching of the magic. With her free hand she covered one of her ears, trying to muffle the sound of it, her other hand clasped tightly in Trest's hand.

The booted feet of several men entered the banquet hall, one ordering. "Check around in here. Better check the entrance to the catacombs, too." The sound of a man grunting was interrupted by the same voice. "No, you idiot! It's behind the other tapestry! How long have you been working here??"

Kieta angled her face to look up at Trest, one eyebrow quirking up in silent inquiry. That must be the entrance to the 'under-rooms' she had heard.

Trest motioned to her to keep quiet. He took the moment to peer out from behind the statues, watching as the men looked behind the tapestries. It left the door unprotected, and the guards far enough from it he thought he could make a run for it. He gestured to Kieta.

"Follow me," he whispered. "And keep quiet- and be quick."
He took her then by the hand, and walked as quickly, and quietly, as he could towards the door. Somehow they managed, slipping outside into the moonlight and he ran with her, pulling her into the garden's maze.

He hung close, however, peering over to see if the men were still checking out the banquet room.

"Let's stay here- see what they'll do... then when the coast is clear, we head back inside and check out those catacombs."

If he wanted her to be quiet and quick, at least to her standards, he should have let her go it alone. He was actually quite loud to her ears, but thankfully all of the guards were decisively human. She peered out of the maze at the entrance to the room, though her ears told her that they were still milling about in there. In fact, she could have told him that they were investigating the stop where they had been just now. Their escape had been well timed. Still, she felt she needed to check with her eyes. The screeching sound of the magical object definitely interfered with her hearing.

That was the problem with her ears. They could pick up the vibrations of magic and sound, but sometimes it occurred to an extent that her normal hearing was overridden. Trying to hear Trest over the much louder screeching vibrations of magic was a test of concentration for her.

She watched as they, after what seemed like an eternity, came out of the entrance, but tugged on Trest's hand to make sure he stayed put. "There's one more." Another minute or two passed before the guard emerged and headed towards the stables with the rest of the guard. 

They silently made their way back to the hall, ducking inside. Once inside, she headed to the tapestry and pulled it to the side. And frowned. A heavy lock rested on the door. "Master thief?" She looked to Trest expectantly.

Trest side and reached into his breast pocket.
"You owe me for this." But what, he wasn't entirely sure. They were stuck on this for the long haul, and as he pulled out a tool and fiddled with the lock, he gave a smirk when it fell open with a shallow, echoing click. He lifted off the lock and pocketed it. It was heavy, but he'd rather not have someone lock them inside in case this was a bad idea. So far, he seemed to have a lot of bad ideas!

Gesturing forward, he gave a nod.
"After you milady."

What he meant by his comment, or whether he was simply saying anything to fill the momentary lull in excitement, she didn't know. She watched him make easy work of the padlock, and while pocketing it seemed smart so that they wouldn't get locked it, it also meant that anybody who checked this door would see that they had gone into it. Not as if they'd have been able to lock it behind them anyways, but they could have used it as show to distract individuals at first glance.

A cold stream of air came up the stairwell, accompanied by a musty smell and the piercing vibrations of the magical object pinging up the enclosed space. Looking back at Trest, she rolled her eyes. "How considerate of you." Kieta ducked her head to make her way into the stairwell, the top just barely scraping the top of her head as she made her descent. She extended out both hands to trail down the walls of the hallway to balance herself, the stairs narrow and steep even for her small feet.

Once they hit the landing a stream of lamps along the walls lighted up down a long corridor. The vibrations of magic were now accompanied by a low peeling ringing. Kieta felt a warm wetness at her ears, and touching her fingertips to one ear she withdrew to find blood. Cringing, she began to walk towards the sound and vibrations which seemed to block out any other incoming noise.

Trest had been too distracted as he followed her to notice the blood at first, that was, until he watched her pause and saw her hand.
"Hey- woah wait-!" He moved to grab her hand. "Are you injured?"

Kieta let him stop her, explaining, "Not really... Magic gives off vibrations, sound that these," she tapped her unusual ears, "pick up a bit too well." She cringed when the vibrations got worse intermittently, almost as if the object was spinning and hitting different corners to produce different sounds. "Whatever the object is, it's got a terrible screechy magic."

She gave him a cringing smile, shoulders flinching as another wave of the higher pitch vibrations swelled in her ears. There wasn't a whole lot to be done on the matter, because she needed her ears to be able to track the object... Though it was getting increasingly hard to not just clap her hands over her ears to protect them. She rubbed her ears a bit. "It's hard to focus on anything else, so you might be sure to keep on alert for anything else that might pop up."

As Trest held her, she found himself frowning.
"I can't even imagine," he gave her a slight smile, but worry still consumed his face. "Are you sure you'll be alright? I mean... won't these ... vibrations get worse? Heck, I'd be worried of going deaf if I were you."
But at her comment to keep alert of all else, he simply nodded.
"That... I can at least do." He looked her over. "You sure you're okay to go on?"
Itd be hard to go back from here.

To be honest, Kieta wasn't sure if she would go deaf or not but they didn't have much choice in the matter. If she wanted this collar off, if she wanted to be free again, she would have to find this object. A grim look of determination settled on her features, and she gave him a tight-lipped smile and nodded. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

As they neared the object they hit a magical wall. It was human magic, and Kieta was able to weaken it enough for them to continue on though it was like walking through syrup. Muscles straining, they reached the end of the hallway and doors. Kieta was trembling like a leaf, pale and nauseous from the strength of the vibrations. Placing her hands above the locks, she turned to Trest. "Can you pick the lock? I'll work on dismantling the spell."

"Gods... whatever magic's here I'll be glad to be away from it," Trest grumbled. It felt almost as if they were walking through water. But then at her query, he turned to the lock and nodded.
"I guess that sounds fair," he went on, trying to sound playful but in all honesty, he was getting stressed.

He shuffled through his equipment, and manage to easily pick this one, which made him smile.
"That was easy." He looked over at Kieta. "So how's that spelling coming along?" He was definitely sounding in better spirits now.

Sweat beaded on Keita's forehead as she concentrated on the magic surrounding the lock, using her own natural magic to work its way through. It was a longer process than might take a mage familiar with this particular magic, but her own method still worked. Her hands were still pressed against the door when they swung open violently, toppling her into the adjoining room onto her hands and knees.

The ringing in the room was phenomenal, loud enough for even Trest to hear. In the center of the room stood a podium, and upon it was a large book. Unable to bear it anymore, Kieta clapped her hands over her ears as laughter echoed throughout the room. A darkness bore down upon them and the room chilled, and soon the laughter was joined by horrifying screaming.

The book called to her, seductive and dark. It promised protection and power, a shield against the horrible sounds and vibrations echoing through the room. At first she attempted to resist it, but as she turned her head she saw Trest beginning to approach the book in a dreamlike trance. "Trest..." she called out, half-heartedly, voice meek and unconvincing as she, too, rose to her feet and allowed herself to be pulled towards the book.

Trest and Kieta stood side-by-side in front of the book, and both would reach out to grasp the book of their own accord, like reaching out to a trusted companion.
Hundreds of tiny clawed hands leapt from the binding of the book, digging down into the skin of their forearms. A choked scream of pain tore from Kieta's throat, her green eyes opening wide as flashes of maddened masses of people clawed through her mind. Destruction and terror reigned supreme for an infinite amount of time, taking hold of their minds viciously.

They would not recall the pain or the images they had seen. As quickly as it had taken hold, the book released both Trest and Kieta, appearing innocuous where they held it together. Neither would recall how they had come to take hold of the book, nor the terrible things they had seen, nor how their arms had come to be bleeding and pierced a hundred times over. All they would experience would be a vague feeling of forgetfulness and a heaviness of spirit.

Kieta blinked her eyes, confusion sinking in. Why was she panting so laboriously? Why was her heart hammering in her chest as if in fear? With shaking fingers, Kieta pried open the book to read the first page. 


The second page appeared to have the authors of the book written down, a list of names scratched out until her eyes landed on the last two.

She read the next page:


Panic seemed to set in as she flipped through the pages of the tome, holding it so that Trest could see the pages, too. Each chapter titled with the names of the other authors, and each chapter ended with the symbol of a skull and cross. Finally, she reached the chapter she had dreaded.


She watched in horror as an invisible hand scrawled in dark orange ink across the page.


Kieta closed the book quickly and released it, backing up and drawing a hand down her face, a dark sense of dread falling over her. "We... We should..." She stared down on the tome, "We'll give it to the Boar. Let the book take others while we figure out how to destroy it. Perhaps it will not return to us until late in our lives? Perhaps somebody before us will destroy it?" She looked to Trest, worry clear across her face.

It was like a dream, and as it faded and he returned in a fog, he stared down at his arm, as if waiting for it to crumble away, but he didn't know why. It was like there was an echo of a pain long passed. However, he never recalled hurting his hand badly enough to warrant it. He shook it off, unwittingly shaking his hand by the wrist.

But his 'ghost pain' was soon the least of his concerns, for when the book began to speak to them, his face scrunched up as he made a decisive, "Ew." He looked towards Kieta, shaking his head.

"Can't say I'd imagine my name would find its way into a book this way." He gave an empty laugh. "ALthough I'm certain my name would only have remained in books of thieves and heirs with no claims."

He felt silly for his attempted jest, but he couldn't help himself. He was so anxious it made him dance in his place.

"Eh... our names are in this thing... and I got a bad feeling about all of this... but do we really want to just... hand this over to the Boar?" he asked, looking over at her with genuine uncertainty. Wouldn't it be safer with us?" Though he had almost forgotten the collars... and the 'other' curse. He sighed.

"We don't have a choice."
Maybe if they passed the book on.... whatever knew curse they seemed to acquire would fade like their memories of it. But he had a feeling neither would truly go away. He shivered.

"Here.. why don't I take it."
But he really wanted to say was 'Let's dump this off a cliff'.

Once the book was secure enough, he took the lead in getting them the hell out of there and was relieved when no one was in the room once they exited.

"I'm not sure if we ought to leave this door open or unlocked... but I'm pretty sure we're in trouble enough as is so.... Let's get the hell out of here!" An dhe put on his best polished smile and headed out the door, back into the moonlit gardens and was heading straight for the gates. They couldn't go out the front door. No way in hell they wouldn't be caught. THeir best bet was up and over the fence. And once there, he gestured, "Ladies first?"

While the piercing magical vibrations had stabilized, it did not leave Kieta feeling any better about having the book with them. It made her skin crawl, as if was watching them as they made their way towards the back fence. Her eyes continued to flicker back to the book where he held it, her fingers itching to open the book again against her own will. Something deep within her wanted to use the book, to uncover its secrets, to see if it continued to write their story as they passed through the gardens. Was it recording their every movement? But if she opened it again, wouldn't she be placing Trest and herself closer to the ending of their chapter and perhaps demise? That's what the book had hinted at, at least. Still, the book seemed to call to her, asking her to uncover its magic and its power. What did the book do, other than challenge those who opened it with a death wish?

Her feet slowed as they reached the fence, feeling a burning sensation on her inner wrist where the pain had been before. Rolling over her arm, she looked down at her arm. Thin and difficult as it was to see in the moonlight, she could make out the faint symbol of a quill. And she could see the faint outline of an inkwell on Trest's wrist... What could it mean? She brought herself out of her reverie when Trest urged her to jump the fence.

Kieta used her magic to sprout strong, sturdy vines up the fence to make it easier for them to clear it. Climbing swiftly to the top, she balanced low along the top and reached down to help Trest with the book. She wasn't worried about him clearing the wall unaided- he was a thief. Once she made sure he was clear of the top, she gave the book back to him... Perhaps he didn't feel the pull of the magic like she did, or he was more likely to resist it. Once they were both clear on the other side, she took his hand so that they could run off, assuming that he knew best where to go. This was where he was from, after all, and not her.

She asked after him as they escaped, her voice quiet, "We have to give it to the Boar, don't we? Or we die with collars around our necks... And then we will at least have until the book finishes with her or her boss, right? And who says they don't destroy it before it comes back to us?" A frown creased her features, "But what does this book do, other than curse people?"

Trest gave an irritated scratch at his collar.
"Hey, you... you're thinking too much," he told her with a pat to her shoulder. "If anything, we're still not in the clear yet, alright? So let's figure out a quick way to escape." And his eyes searched the darkness. "There.. I think the stables were this way." He gave her a flashy grin, illuminating the whites of his teeth by light of hte moon. "Stealing a horse would be our best bet."
He gave a poke to her nose then gestured forward. "Come on. Before someone realizes we're not lovers in the night going for a stroll but con artists with curses on our heads."

But even as he tried to play it off as if it were nothing, he couldn't shake off the feeling. His fingers itched immensely to open the book, to leaf through the pages, and see just what was to happen next-
and if the text that they'd read, would still be or become, true.

Kieta made as if to argue with him, but swallowed her words. He was right... She was overthinking it already before they were even out of their current danger. Hopping from one dangerous situation to another was becoming so habituous that it almost made her forget what was at stake... Their lives. The book nor the Boar would be about to kill them if they let the guards catch them.

"I guess you're right..." She was beginning to trust in his judgment and to trust in him overall. His fate was her fate now, after all, and they were becoming more and more entangled. First the collars and their odd enslavement by the Boar, and now the curse of this mysterious book.

She slipped her hands into his as she picked up the pace, hoping they would just look as if they were rushing off to a hiding spot to do what most couples did this late at night. His hand felt calloused and warm around hers, which felt cold in the crisp night air. The gown did not offer much in the way of warmth, and his warmth felt comforting and took the edge off her chill.

When they reached the stables she really began to fully realize what it meant to be in the dress... It meant that she had none of her weapons and none of her clothing, just the dress on her back. Turning to look at Trest, she whispered quickly, still holding his hand "You didn't happen to have a bag with our normal clothes and our things stashed anywhere nearby, would you?"

He paused to regard her, brows raised.
"I might be good..." he went on, smirk lop sided. "But I'm not that good. All we've got are the clothes on our back. Now come on." He gestured with his head towards the horses as they crept hastily through the stables.

"Let's hope we steal a fast one, eh?" And then he paused to consider something as he turned to Kieta. "One horse.. or two?"
One horse seemed viable, so the two couldn't easily get separated...
But he also knew it wasn't always wise to travel that way. But part of him itched at the notion of not having her that close. After all, his hand was still holding her's.

Kieta slowed her pace as they passed the stalls, her eyes expertly scrutinizing the horses. While she couldn't exactly converse with animals, she could get a pretty good feel of them. "One horse. Fast, strong, nimble... With good endurance." She spoke more to herself than to him as she focused, finding it harder to decipher the qualities of the horses than she normally would have. Normally she could use her ears, listen to the strength of their heartbeats and the depth of their lungs, but at the moment her ears were still feeling damaged from the damned book.

A small frown creased her mouth as she closed her eyes, tilting her head to the side as she paused in front of a stall with a tall roan. "Not good endurance..." She moved forward a few more stalls before stopping in front of another stall, this one with a dark bay gelding. He was of average height and build, though the muscles of his shoulders and the density of his bones told her he would tolerate long distances on uneven grounds. She closed her eyes and tilted her head again, breathed deeply as she listened to his heartbeat and lungs with her muffled ears. "This one should work."

She opened the stall and stepped in, extending her free hand out to let the gelding sniff it. Finally letting go of Trest's hand, she looked around and found a nail on the ground. Picking it up, she tore the long skirt of the dress until she could tie it off between her legs. She plucked up the bridle hanging on the hook outside of the horse's stall, though she would have preferred to ride without one, it would look odd if anyone were to spot them riding a horse without halter or bridle. Gently urging the gelding to take the bit, she pulled the bridle over his ears and buckled it up before leaping up and onto his back.

Extending her arm out to Trest to help him up, she gave him a wary smile. "Ready?"

Trest's eyes were uneasy as the woman took her time in selecting a ride. To him, a horse was a horse, but he couldn't help but find himself impressed as she moved about and made her selection. However, when she was ripping her skirts, he gave a whistle, and then gave her a lop sided grin when she hoisted herself onto the saddle.

He planted one hand against the saddle and looked up at her.
"You know... in Connlaoth, men tend to lead the horses." Meaning.. he was waiting for her to sit back a bit further on the saddle so he could take the lead. After all, he knew this land well enough- even if this weren't exactly his property, or territory.