The Huntress and the Hunter (Completed)

[Jeremiah Maccabee]

“Damn,” Mac said under his breath. “Nice ass.” In Mac's book, all asses were nice asses. As long as they were of the female variety. He trotted after her with bow in hand, feeling a bit like a puppy following its master. The diminutive girl had tied his insides up in knots. He had no doubt she could tie his outsides up just as easily. The incongruity of it struck him as funny. Big powerful man totally cowed by petite little girl. Against his better judgement, he allowed himself to be pulled along behind her by whatever magnetic force she was radiating. Later on he would justify this decision by chalking it up to shock, or possibly temporary insanity, or maybe even witchcraft. In any case, it was a situation that offered many possibilities, from an agonizing death at hands of a psychopathic little girl to learning how to use his bow for something other than clubbing things to death. “Hey lady,” Mac yelled. “I didn't catch your name.”

[Aello]

"Aello," she called back to him, without turning to offer face. Her body weaving in and out of the line of trees as the folds glided around her ankles, carried by ethereal furlings. Her silence blanketed the uneven terrain as much as did earthen debris- sodden heaps of mud piled high beside steps left in several animal's wake, semi masticated green puss- the remnants of an herbivore's snack, discarded limbs- gnarled twigs which twisted into roughened crescents, emaciated fingers beckoning the hunters closer, as downtrodden stalks of fraying green grass carried by the clods scraped against stone. Settling against rounded grays, rolling into jagged peaks. Smeared brown cascading down their length as the huntress pushed them into the soil, beneath boiling sole. Her thumb dancing along the supple curve of her father's old bow as she kept her eyes peeled. For the most part, Aello ignored the ground, laden with animal tracks and droppings. She was favoring her magic, which seemed to be able to point out every animal in existence, if only given the proper amount of time in which to do so. The huntress lazily followed the misty trail to the base of a tree. Having arrived, several chimes after their departure, the aurist could only sigh as she tore her cursed blade from its sheath. She held it tightly in her fist, the metal glimmering in the sunlight. She paused, turning to Jeremiah, tightening her lips to get him to remain silent, before looking away. There was a squirrel in a nearby tree, she intended to kill. Thus, Aello placed her left foot about a foot in front of her right. The lead's toes were pointing towards the squirrel laden oak, whilst the one left behind was turned to the right. Forming a ninety degree angle with its coupling. The girl's chest was turned in the same direction as her right foot, and her eyes seemed to bore through the interwoven throngs of diamond backed limbs, and into the forehead of the squirrel. Aello bit her bottom lip to keep her silence as she pulled her arm back, and then brought it forward, releasing the dagger, which twirled through the air. Glimmering a vile gold tinted red with the sun's catchings. Beady black eyes widened, but it was too late by the time it had noticed. The dagger had already pierced its skin, sending the first droplets of red to the forest floor. Where they plopped silently, as the beads burst into hundreds of smaller pieces. The animal's body wavered a moment as its eyes shut, and then, came tumbling down. The squirrel hit the ground with a soft thunk, sending Aello into a march to retrieve. She sheathed her dagger within a beat, and plucked the animal's corpse up by its bushy tail. She turned then, smiling radiantly as her eyes grazed over Jeremiah's form. "That's the basic stance for about everything. The starting place," she called. "Now why don't you try it out, when you lead us to the next squirrel, or rabbit? There are a number of those about, so each should be easily enough to find, considering the trails. If only you know how to follow." Aello's eyes sparkled. Which you don't. Hence, the presence of a cheating forest witch, she thought as she took a few steps closer to her companion, and waited for him to lead, knowing she'd offer some advice if he tried anything too stupid.

[Jeremiah Maccabee]

“Damn,” Mac said under his breath as the squirrel hit the ground. “She's good.” Now it was his turn. Mac didn't know much about tracking but that didn't mean he didn't know anything at all about it. He set off at a quick walk back toward his camp. They reached the stream shortly and Mac slowly worked his way upstream, scanning the ground in front of him in arcs. He stopped and pointed to a barely-discernible path running up a small hill away from the stream. He had no idea what animal or animals made it, but it was a good guess that it was a regularly used game trail. He followed the vague trail through the underbrush. Midway up the hillock the brush gave way to dried grass and wildflowers. The trail was easier to follow here because of the somewhat flattened grasses. They followed it around the knoll and into the trees. Here it was harder to follow. He found himself having to stop often to let his eyes drift back and forth in front of him until he picked up the slight path again. Sometimes he wondered if he was following his imagination. The trail turned abruptly and disappeared into a half-meter deep carpet of bushy green ground cover. He couldn't make out where the trail went and was about to give up when the ground cover moved about ten yards ahead. A small dog-sized creature waddled into a partial opening in the shrubs. It was a porcupine. It either hadn't noticed them or didn't think them a threat. Mac nocked an arrow, pulled and sited, and then looked down. He arranged his feet more or less as Aello had suggested, with his left foot in front pointing at his target. Now the arrow pulled across his chest, which felt almost natural. He released the arrow. It whistled across the intervening distance and struck the porcupine's back, passing through its heavy layer of quills and disappearing into the foliage on the other side of the animal. The porcupine beat a hasty retreat into the underbrush. Mac couldn't see it anymore but he could easily enough see where it was as the disturbance to the ground cover moved rapidly away from them. It took Mac a couple chimes to locate his arrow. He looked at the huntress and said, “Ta-da!”

[Aello]

Aello didn't look amused. "And so the mighty hunter brings down a great beast for our dinner," the aurist mocked as she dropped her catch and leaned her bow against a nearby tree. A second later, she was sauntering over to Jeremiah, her tongue trailing around her lips. Innocently enough. "Nock an arrow," the aurist instructed, her voice deadly. Cold. "Now," she added, knowing that a man never moved fast enough. As soon as Mac had finished, the woman would close the distance between them. "See the bow?" Aello asked. "Aim for the spot just above it," she finished. She'd wait a moment for the man to adjust his aim before kicking his left heel. "Farther forward," she barked, as her sole pulled away. Her body circling the man as though she were a hawk that had just spotted its prey. Muddied eyes danced over skin slick with sweat. Forms brushing softly as the fraying edges of several chestnut colored strands trailed over flesh lain bare. The huntress came to a halt behind her male counterpart. She stepped forward, forcing her chest against his back. "Don't move," Aello whispered as her hands came forward. The palms settling against the knobbed bones about his hips a moment, before the left slithered over ruffled cotton. Her nails trailing lazily, tickling his flesh, as they climbed over his supporting arm. "You're tall," Aello commented. "So you have to aim a little lower. Even I, have to aim downwards, when trying to meet a mark as low as that." With that, the girl's hand trickled back towards his shoulder blade, where she allowed it to settle for a tick, before thinking better of it. Her hand cascaded down the length of a back held taut. "Ease the muscles," she whispered, as her hands came to his hips, which she offered a sudden jerk. "You're too tight. Loosen up and don't turn your lower half so much. It won't do you any good." With that, her palms lifted, leaving only the tips of her fingers, which too, slowly drifted away. Leaving the man all on his own. OOCFeel free to yell if this is too much. I can edits.

[Jeremiah Maccabee]

Body-to-body, skin sometimes touching skin. Fingers exploring, gentle but insistent, always on the verge of becoming forceful. Whispered words in his ear, warm breath tickling inner hairs, softness and hardness somehow conflated. Mac submitted to her commands, the gears of his brain spinning but finding no traction. She played with his body until it was to her liking and then let her fingers flutter away. He pulled the taut string of his weapon, pointed the arrow at the desired target, and released. The projectile sang as it flew, free and joyous. It sunk into the tree with a satisfying thunk about half a meter above the intended spot. OOC : Hmm … that attempt at writing “in the style of Aello” was way too much work. I'm going back to my own style. “Damn!” Mac said. Aello probably thought he was expressing frustration at having struck so wide of the mark. Quite to the contrary, he was expressing delight at having gotten so close. “Let me try that again.” He nocked another arrow, checked his stance and body position, and let himself relax. He pulled, aimed and released. This time the arrow struck a little below the spot. He did this another five times in quick succession. Once he missed the tree entirely and instead sent the arrow flying into a thicket. He broke stance and walked in a little circle, coming back into position and resuming the stance Aello had taught him. Five more arrows attached themselves to the tree, all within a few inches of his target. He collected his arrows – except for the one that went into the thicket, which he never did find – returned to Aello and then walked ten paces further away from the tree. He took his stance and fired another ten arrows at the tree. Two of them missed completely. The rest created a thicket of their own around the target point. “Ya know,” he said. “This beats the hell out of you beating the hell out of me.”

[Aello]

Aello's hands brushed over his skin. Guiding his body into discomforting contortions. Molding his form as though Jeremiah were but a pile of earthen clay, and she a sculptor. She smiled weakly, pale pink petals unfurling enough to reveal inner stamen. Searching for something on which to sup. Her fingers turned, forming rough crescents. Her nails dug into undulating folds. Cotton fabric draped lazily over flesh grown slick with sweat. Glimmering in the sunlight, alluringly as muscles rippled beneath a bed of skin. It seemed to be paling as though under moonlit glow, as the girl's fingers circled over the back's blades. Noting the gentle curve of ivory colored bone. Muddied eyes sparkled with the clippings of celestial orb's rays. "You need to learn how to shoot when you are distracted," Aello whispered, as she licked her lips, whetting the roughened curves. Allowing saliva to trickle between slits. Cracklings in a bed of pink, obscuring flushed shade. "The forest isn't always going to be a quiet place. Nor is the battlefield. Sometimes, you will have to take aim when the world is in turmoil. When the animals fill the air with discordant tunes. Cacophonous calls. Wails; as one of their brethren fall to predators." Her hands fell, settling onto the place where his kidneys would have been, before rounding the bend to his hips. "Sometimes, you will need to enter a trance, akin to what one would find when they meditate. You will need to block out all sound. All sights, save for the mark." Her lips curled all the more, widening her grin. "But you are not there yet," she added as she closed the distance between their bodies, bringing her chest against his back, as though willing him to see with his next shot. And then the one he took after that, and so on, and so forth. "Remember to close your left eye as you shoot, and aim down the arrow," Aello instructed. "Not too high or too far over, to account for the lack of wind. Your arrow will only dip so far in its flight, and with the lack of Zulrav's breath, for the time being, it shall not sway unless your arm were to tremble." The girl smiled wickedly. "Try to keep it straight. You're bending slightly at the elbow, a beginner's mistake..." The woman's voice trailed off as her hands fell, and she watched Jeremiah retrieve his arrows, and shoot again, a few times over. "Keep on trying," she'd say periodically. "Concentrate, and watch the placement of your thumb. It's supposed to fold above the fingers. But not so high as to allow the nail to ruffle your projectile's feathers." She smiled weakly as she kept on watching. For someone who was supposedly giving his best, he didn't seem to be getting any better. Inwardly she sighed. "Perhaps for you," Aello muttered under her breath. "Now try one last round," she instructed, "before you lead us to something good, and that arrow you never picked up. Don't think I forgot about it," she said with a smirk, as her hands came to his waist. Each of them circling lazily, building up a small sense of heat as she stood behind him, waiting for Jeremiah to take another shot. "Or where it hides from your untrained eyes."

[Jeremiah Maccabee]

Mac's mental gears had lost all traction by now and were spinning freely. Target practice was no longer a realistic option. At least not with bow and arrow. He slowly turned so that he was facing Aello, only an inch or two between them if she left her hands on his hips. The top of her head came almost to his chin. Her warm breath caressed his neck. She had a mere button of a nose, which he found incredibly cute. Her skin was light, almost pale. Again he was struck by how small she was, almost child-like. Yet she was without doubt a woman, slender body exhibiting the kind of seductive hourglass figure that challenged a man's self-control as if to say, “Try ignoring this.” He did not touch her with his hands, only with his eyes, old gray eyes searching out young brown eyes. Mac took a deep breath and let it out slowly, getting himself grounded again. When he spoke it was with a deep, quiet voice, almost gentle. “It's important to you to be in control, isn't it?” It was more a statement than a question. “First by intimidation. Now by seduction. But with the same result. You in control, everything and everyone else under control. It makes me wonder what you are afraid of. It makes me wonder what would happen if you ever ceded a little of that control to someone else? I wonder how would that re-arrange your world?”

[Aello]

A lightly puzzled expression crossed Aello's features as muddied eyes sought the grays; settled. Her hands hanging limply on a man's hips as her magic tried to will an explanation from the place that rested between his ears. Although they vapors trickled through, trying to find but a thread, there was naught. Leaving the girl cold, and alone as her right hand ascended. Crawling up the side of the man's form towards his heart. Resting only when it came to the pectoral muscle, and she could feel it beating beneath her. Pulsating against lines of skin grown slick with sweat. "No, that isn't it," Aello whispered as she shook her head. Tousling a mane of chestnut colored hair. Causing the fraying edges to splay across her features. The ends catching on her lips. Tickling as they trickled into the crevices cast by drying splits. Severances in a bed of rose tinted skin. Plump undulations against a blanket of paling white. "It's not about control," Aello added, her voice strangely quiet, perhaps to make up for the thundering of her own heart. The way it crashed against her bony rib cage. Twisted; to protect her innards. "Not at all," she righted her head a moment, as her gaze swept down. Her chin falling with the change. Chocolate colored irises lazily circled, before ascending. Coming to meet treacherous clouds. Blown over by questioning gaze. "Nor is there much left to fear, considering all that has been met," Aello continued, before pausing. Taking the time to note the rest of Jeremiah's words, and how best to proceed. "So, if you don't want to shoot anymore," she continued, as she leaned into the hand on his pec, and raised her left heel off the ground so she rested on her toes, legs bent at the knee, "then don't. Although, that would make it rather difficult to kill anything." Aello shrugged. "But the choice is yours. You are in complete control," she said as she allowed her hands to fall, waiting for the hunter to make his move.

[Jeremiah Maccabee]

Time stopped. Her lips waited, mere inches from his. Her deep brown eyes were locked on his. The urge to close the gap between his lips and hers was strong. In his younger days Mac would have been lost in the maelstrom of pheromones and hormones swirling around inside and out. But Mac was not a young man. Age and experience had taught him how to reign in the desires of a man for a woman and to orchestrate them in ways enjoyable for both. Aello had seduced him, but she had not mastered him. At least not completely. “I am … hungry,” he said. “But first let's see if we can hunt down something to eat for dinner.” _______________________________ Syna was disappearing behind the mountains to the west when they finished off what turned out to be a tasty, succulent rabbit dinner, made better by the fact that they were both famished. With pointers and caustic remarks from Aello, Mac had managed to track down and shoot two rabbits. The older man and the younger woman sat together roasting chunks of meat on sticks and eating them with their fingers. They carried on a conversation of sorts, neither of them really saying much. After they had washed off their greasy faces and hands, Mac lit a lantern and hung it just outside the tent entrance. He walked over to Aello, who was standing near the fire, and placed himself directly in front of her, standing as close as they had been earlier, his gray eyes capturing her brown eyes. His voice was quiet and his face serious. “I’d like to get back to the hunger we were talking about earlier.” He reached out with both hands and took hold of her daggers. He would slowly draw them out of their sheaths and place them on the ground. Then he would take hold of her shoulders, bend his head down toward hers, and kiss her hard, nipping her lower lip lightly. Then he would pick her up, toss her over his shoulder like a bag of wheat, and carry her into his tent. OOC : This is a good place to end the story. Or you can have the closing post. Or we can follow the story into the tent, in which case you have to assure me that you are at least 18 years of age in real life.

[Emblem]

Congratulations! You Get Glorious Experience! Aello Skills Teaching- 4 XP Tracking- 4 XP Seduction- 3 XP Hunting- 3 XP Intimidation- 2 XP Rhetoric- 1 XP Lores Jeremiah Maccabee (Partial) Teaching Instead of Killing Leaving it Behind A Confrontation Other Shenanigans: Nothing here. Jeremiah Maccabee Skills Weapon: Shortbow- 4 XP Tracking- 4 XP Hunting- 3 XP Rhetoric- 2 XP Seduction- 1 XP Lores Aello (Partial) Using Your Weapon Correctly A Dirty Mind A Confrontation Other Shenanigans: Since you lost an arrow in the thicket you only have 39 arrows now, but nothing else besides that. Comments : Really good thread guys! I enjoyed the dialogue between the characters and found it very entertaining. Mac, I gave you a point in seduction for that ending. Hopefully everything else makes sense, and if not, shoot me a PM!