D.a.y.b.r.e.a.k [-Vanator-]

[Evarette Karmine]

Dawn crept over the horizon, stretching it's pale fingers into the sky almost tentatively, as though hazily rising from a deep slumber. It's pallid light was absorbed by the coating of frost that blanketed the earth, turning the world into a glinting field of glass. The sky blushed, tinged ruby and gold as the sun climbed into the sky, and the clouds above were spun into wispy streamers of light. Birds called out their habitual greetings, their lilting voices carrying far over the vast, rolling plains as whispers of their wings sped them from their nests... Evarette had risen early, as was her habit. Much of her belongings had been carefully and quietly packed down and rolled into their proper placements now within the packs adorning Ivar's Yvas. The growing palette of dawn found her standing against a backdrop of dissipating mist, the dark hulk of Ivar grazing alongside her. Her hands, drawn pale by the morning light, were curled in the Nightwalker stallion's mane, twisting a neat plait through the long, dark locks. Her indigo eyes were trained on the horizon as it emerged out of the fading haze. The golden brow of the sun was just now managing to peer over it's lip, and Evarette could barely feel the warmth of it kiss her cheeks through the early chill. A pair of dark, woolen breeches lay draped across the stallion's withers, and Eva glimpsed them with a smile. She permitted her mind to comb over the events of the previous evening, and the man they belonged to... An evening composed of shared laughter, rejuvenating discovery, and intimate truths, and a man who'd been but a stranger before last night...at the center of them all. Despite the weary course of the day, once Eva had stretched out upon her bedroll she'd found herself pursued by such a vexing tangle of hopes, fears and aspirations that she thought she may never get to sleep. Thankfully, it had come, and with it brought the dark velvety coils of a dream she could still not quite place...As thought the restlessness had carried through her dream and into the following morning, Eva had risen during the anticipatory silence of pre-dawn and readied herself for the journey ahead. As though summoned by thoughts of her master, Avas crept up behind Evarette and greeted her with a nudge of her slender muzzle. Propping her shoulder against the woman's leg, the hound leaned eagerly into the caresses of Eva's fingertips that she buried behind the canine's ears. Smiling at Avas's blissful countenance, a soft trill of laughter floated into the air as the Drykas woman knelt to sling her arm around the dog's lean frame... "I will miss your company, sweet Avas...and that of your master," Eva's words rose softly into the air, as though muted by the shroud of mist still being lifted by the rays of the rising sun.

[Vanator]

Vanator woke to the unpleasant nudging of a warm, wet nose. Ruhl was breathing in his face, snuffling at his ear with a moist muzzle. The man grumbled and waved the hound away. He rolled from the blankets to his feet in one motion. Daylight seeped between a few gaps in the dwellings' opening, illuminating the Luvanor. Ruhl stood anxiously shifting on his paws, tail wagging briskly, his soft brown eyes pleading with his master. Annoyed, Vanator mutter, the first words of the day husky and hoarse. "What is it, what do you want?" A faint trill of laughter, barely audible, accompanied the typical grassland chorus heard beyond the tent walls. Vanator cocked his head for a moment, then shook out his light brown mop of hair and rubbed the sleep from his weary eyes. His vision was still cloaked in a blur as he thew back the tent flap and stepped outside, Ruhl at his heels. The Drykas' eyes cleared, yet the lingering morning mist still wrapped the camp in a short-lived haze. He immediately noticed the open ground that Evarette's tent had occupied the night before. The woman was standing a ways off, he could now see, though she was shrouded in the damp mist. The hulking form of Ivar dwarfed the girl plaiting his mane. She had already packed her gear. Even as the morning fog lifted, Vanator watched Evarette in silence. Yesterday, he feared for the girl, wondered how such a frail being could survive the journey she had purposed to complete. This morning, as he observed the slowly clearing form of the woman caring for her great steed, his own hunting dog lolling affectionately at her side, he had a genuine feeling that she would be alright. Evarette was stronger than her soft feminine features projected. Her slight shoulders were squared, her spine supple but erect, the stance of her legs stable and confident. With a yawn, Vanator extended his arms out to his sides, stretching the stiffness from the knotted muscles at this shoulders. He made his way towards Eva, the dew-drenched grass sprinkling his bare feet with cold droplets as they were forced to part for him. Halting a few paces behind her, Vanator spoke. "My, you are an early riser, aren't you?" Though her back was to the man, Evarette could hear the smile painting his words.

[Evarette Karmine]

Vanator's words drew her out of her reverie, and Evarette turned to greet him with a smile. She rose to her feet, a glance spared to the barren swatch of land that once harbored her tent and belongings, as though affirming that she really was about to leave...The thought was a solemn one, and the expression that retrned to Vanator was tinged with a hint of remorse. "I've a long road ahead of me." She'd taken the steps before. The preparations. The packing. The gaze that locked with the waiting horizon with a sense of weighty forboding and fear. It was happening all over again, as though by chancing upon this gentle stranger and his companions she'd been severely reminded of all she loved about the feral grasslands and it's counterparts. The uncertainty facing her was imminent...but terrifying all the same. A hand was swept forward to tug at Ivar's Yvas, toying with a strap that didn't really need tightening...her dark eyes dropped to her busy fingertips, and she struggled with her next words. Farewells had never been her strong point. "I cannot thank you enough, Vanator...for sharing your camp with us. It was wonderful to have met you..." she glimpsed the pair of breeches and grinned, despite herself. Pulling them off of Ivar's back, she folded them in her arms before presenting them to him with the hint of a cheeky grin. The leather cord was placed atop them..."and thanks again, for saving me from my own destruction." Laughter chased her words into silence, and she gazed up at the man speculatively. That familiar increase in the tattoo of her pulse made her uneasy, tugging an awkward smile from her countenance that she attempted to snag by capturing her lower lip again, looking away. Once again, she avoided the blame, chalking it up to the anxieties toed to her departure. She had a long journey ahead of her on which to consider all this in much more depth... Avas nudged her hand again, and the Drykas girl obliged by folding it over her silken skull in another caress. Though the likelihood was small, Eva allowed herself one small hope..."I'd like to think we'll meet again one day."

[Vanator]

Vanator could plainly read the sentiment in the hesitant tone of Evarette's words, his own churning emotions echoed in her fleeting indigo gaze. "Yes, I suppose you do.". As she fiddled with a stray strap, Vanator laid a tentative hand on the Nightstalker's flank. Even with his winter fur, the steed's coat was smooth and glossy.

As Evarette's soft voice lifted again over the song of the awakening plains, he measured each word, tasting each one's honest sincerity. A grin forced itself across his lips as she handed his breeches to him, her charming humor momentarily easing the sober moment. He shared in her light laughter. "It was my pleasure. But perhaps you should invest in a second pair of winter pants. I can't be following you around with my extra wardrobe." His smile waned a bit, struggling to remain cheerful.

Vanator attempted to hold Evarette with his gold-flecked deep gaze. "I cannot tell you how much having you here, at this place, has meant to me. I cannot thank you, or the gods, enough for giving me a chance to find my sister again, to know she is alive and well. It is a gift I will never forget. You are very special Evarette, your company was... refreshing."

He watched as the Luvanor hound nuzzle up to her new friend, her brown eyes staring at Evarette as if sensing the pending separation. Vanator returned his attention back to the young Drykas woman. "Fate has orchestrated an unlikely crossing of our paths once, perhaps it will be gracious enough to permit it again." His smile warmed. "I pray that it does, Evarette." There were more words lingering on his tongue, but he refrained. They were both quite aware of that which remained unspoken between them, of the kinship they now shared.

Vanator reached a hand out towards Evarette. That would not do, he thought. Instead, he took a tentative step towards the woman, briefly gauging the reaction in his eyes. Then he simply put his arms around her, gently, without force, and gathered her into an embrace.

He spoke softly. "Thank you Evarette. I pray that you find your brother."

[Evarette Karmine]

As Evarette was folded into his arms, she found herself almost too stunned to move. She was unaccustomed to gestures of affection, even from her own family...though if asked she would have categorized the feel of this embrace differently. Tentatively, she returned the embrace, her hands coming to rest briefly alongside one another between the blades of his shoulders. A flush of warmth crept to her cheeks, no doubt spurred by her unfamiliarity with the gesture. She found herself speaking into his shoulder... "Your prayers are well received, Vanator. When you see your sister, send my regards...and I hope the reunion is a happy one." As they drew apart, Evarette consumed a moment of silence as her indigo depths studied his features, wrought in an expression of intense perseverance...as though lost in the effort of memorizing every plane. Seemingly satisfied, she raked a hand through her hair in a self-conscious motion, teeth flashing in a wide smile before Ivar's broad head swung around to buffet her side. Jostled by the action, Eva clucked to him in admonishment...turning to tousle his plaited forelock. There was a solace in the action, as it served to tear her eyes from Vanator...for the strings tethering her to her home land were growing ever more taut. With a final pat to the two hounds, Eva laughed at their whisking tails and turned to pull herself up upon Ivar's back in a lurching, though practiced, motion. The great Nightwalker's back was a few hands higher than the average strider, and so the slight Drykas woman was presented with this added difficulty when pulling herself astride his broad back. Ivar tossed his head, dark ears scissoring above his skull as those inky pools rolled towards Backlash with the rumble of a wicker thrumming in his chest. He was bidding his own farewells... "Be well, Vanator...until fate chooses to reunite us," the words fell with the gentle accent of a smile...one that Evarette hoped would not be the last shared between them. The gentle pressure of her heels encouraged Ivar to lurch forward, and Evarette leaned over his neck, grasping two fistfuls of mane as the stallion's familiar, ground-eating lope surged beneath her. The wind nipped at her cheeks, and she narrowed her eyes against it's icy kiss. As Ivar's stride carried them further from beneath the shadow of the watchtower, Eva fought the urge to part with a glance over her shoulder, struggling instead to keep her eyes pinned to the horizon, towards the uncertain future unraveling ahead of her...