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[Sami]

Although Sami knew what a horse was and had on the rare occasions in her youth seen them belonging to the visitors as they arrived at Wind Reach, she had never experienced riding one. Not that she could really recall much of the ride. At first she simply looked about as the drum beat of hooves struck against the ground, her fingers griping onto the handles the best she could. She was not exactly thrilled with the idea, but she did not waste any time deciding when the creature set off on a gallop. The girl ached, her bruising tightening as she was forced onto riding on. The sea of grass to her at least whipped around her, her head rocking lightly until it found its position upon the back of Vanator. The world after that seemed to dip in and out of a blurred state as exhaustion took its toll. She did not talk, she did not ask questions. She simply surrendered to the thoughts of rest, no matter how temporary it may have been.

It was when they slowed to stop that Sami begun to return to a state of reality. Her eyes blinked before she let out a cough, a hand releasing as she rubbed at her sides. They had ridden a distance indeed, the smoke having now disappeared far beyond the horizon, along with her past. She turned around on the spot, eyes surveying the surroundings whilst the Drykas unpacked. She ignored his question at first, one reason for being that he was a stranger – so why should she share information with him?- the other because she was already looking upon the new patch of land. She drew her attention to the gnarled tree, a shaky hand reaching out to touch it. She gave a wince as sore fingers made contact with the bark, her eyes slowly turning upwards to the bare branches above.

“Tell you what happened back there?” she narrowed her brow with thought as she reached out and grasped at one of the sturdy branches. She gave it a firm tug, her head leaning in as she listened out for a groan. She looked up once more before placing a foot against the side of it, bending her leg and ignoring the nagging pain. It was safe to say she was not sure how to answer, and although she knew what happened, she was still uncertain about talking to the Drykas. The views of many changed as soon as the mention of slavery or even the word reimancy came to the surface. Fire burned in her mind once more, the rising of smoke and the crackle of flames. The girl shook her head, before glancing back at him “A lot of things happened. Too many things happened.”

Her eyes once more turned to the tree, and her hold was released on the solid branch. She gave it a pat, and mumbled in Nari “Climb you another time.”

[Vanator]

As Vanator began to unpack the supplies, he looked over at Sami. His inquiries may have been made too soon, he understood, for she had obviously just endured some trauma. But the Drykas was not only curious, but wondered if whatever happened there was something he should worry about happening to them. The evidence just didn't add up. It wasn't Zith, the day was too bright for them to be so active, and they wouldn't burn anything, though a campfire may have got out of control during an attack. Slavers came to mind again, explaining why no one was there, if they were all taken captive. Maybe that was why Sami thought he was one. But then who would she have been traveling with?

The man let the question lie, instead picking up the water skin and tossing it towards Sami, where it landed by her feet. "Drink, you know you need it." He stated, his voice softer. "Do you have any injuries? Burns?" Pulling a rag out of his pack, Van stepped over towards the girl. He did not come too near, establishing some respect for her space. Van looked down into her soiled face. For the first time, he looked closely at her. The youth's sapphire eyes were stunning, yet in their depths was great heaviness. Now, more curious, he looked at the girl closely. Masked behind dirt and ash, he saw bruises, the marks of large hands marring the pale flesh of her slim neck and chin. A darting glance showed thin traces of raw skin at her wrists. She had been abused. Maybe the camp had been slavers. He sighed heavily. Vanator's eyes lifted again to Sami's. He knew the look in them well, for he had gazed into dozens of them while enslaved by the Zith. Many he watched grow dull in death. They were hopeless and hollow. But there was still a small spark in Sami's gaze, Vanator hoped to fan that into a flame. Her body would heal, but whatever abuse she suffered would have damaged her spirit far more.

Vanator held out the rag. "You can go to the stream over there and wash some of that dirt and ash off. I will get a fire started and cook up something to eat."

[Sami]

Sami looked down at the water skin as it landed before her. For a moment she was suspicious of it, yet still she took it up with a grunt of “Thanks.” She did not waste much time drinking from it after that, and felt the cool reach the back of her parched throat. It had been a while since she was allowed to drink freely and heartily, and quickly it became a sensation she was intoxicated with. She gave a gasp, before pulling away and looking upon the Drykas. She could see the look of curiosity forming across him, the want to ask questions and delve into her past. The Inarta gave a snort, “It’s rude to stare. Did you not learn any manners when you were younger?”
She scowled at him, lips pursed together in a sense of annoyance. Her eyes drifted to the rag, judging almost of it before her hand darted out towards it. Snatching it away she firstly threw back the water skin, then marched herself away.
“No watching,” she spoke in a growl as she tottered off in the direction of the stream “Or if I catch you… Well… well… just don’t do it!”

Once there however, the charade that the girl had built up fell into nothing. She went to her knees, her eyes staring up to the sky along with the magnificent shades that filled it. She grimaced as she eased out an arm to the stream, feeling the cold water lap at her fingers. But her eyes remained fixated at the sky; as if it was some alien thing she had never seen before. Which was far from the case, she just had her view blocked from when being stuck within a cage. She felt her jaw tremble, a whine escaping from underneath. She was free now, but still the entire event felt like a dream to her, surreal and untrue. She cupped her face, and composed herself. She needed to clean herself up after all. The stream rippled before her, her reflection in the surface. She touched at her face as she looked deeper; reminding herself of what she looked like, her head shaking at it. A denial of reality. She winced at the bruises as she wiped away the grime and dirt that hid the truth in the skin. She saw the marks that wrapped around her neck, the bruising that rested against her temple, those dulled blue eyes.

“Worse for wear aren’t you now,” she mumbled as she washed away what she could. She gave her throbbing head a shake, and ran her damp hands through it, brushing out the dust that had accumulated there. Of course, she could not make herself spotless, it was an impossible task at present she looked at the base of her hands, looking upon the burned skin that had been left there. It stung to say the least, but it was nothing serious or that she could not deal with. The cool water had soothed it anyway. Glancing about herself, Sami checked that she indeed was not being watched before rising and returning to the Drykas. If Vanator had been true about his words he would have at least started a fire by now, or so the youth liked to think.

[Vanator]

Sami hid it well, her surly behavior testifying to that smoldering determination Vanator believed he had seen in her. The Drykas let her go without a word, maybe a slight smile of amusement curling the corner of his lips when she threatened him if he happened to watch her. The man did make sure she made it to the water safely, nodding to Sirocco and gesturing with his head towards the girl. "Keep an eye on her."

Vanator opened a sack and pulled out a small bundle of twigs, a wad of bandages stained with dried blood, typical tinder used at Sanctuary, and several flat, dried discs of cow dung. He built a small fire with the material, cow patties positioned strategically over the tinder and a few larger sticks. It only needed to cook their food. The smaller the fire, the less visible they would be. Crouching near the organized pile, Van concentrated his djed, murmuring a few words in Pavi that helped him focus, then summoned a small, airy pool of res into his palm and elevated it slightly. He willed it to ignite, sending it gently into the stash of bandages and twigs. The tinder caught fire, and with a bit more res, Vanator drew and pulled the flames until the small campfire was in full burn.

Vanator allowed himself a quick glance towards the stream, only to ensure that Sami was safe. He caught a glimpse of her form leaning over the water, but his gaze did not linger. Instead he fetched a small pot, the waterskin and a leather container. Opening the container, Van dug out a measure of traveller's stock, the dark, pasty mix of plopping into the pot. Sirocco snorted, announcing Sami's return. He looked up at the girl.

The girl looked a bit cleaner, but the washing only exposed the marks of her injuries to her head and neck. He thought too that he saw burns on her hands. Vanator tried to hide his dismay at seeing them on such a young woman. "That looks better." He lied. "I should have had you get some water, but I think there may be enough left here." Van upended the waterskin over the pot, draining the remaining water. Using his dagger, he stirred the dark paste and water until it was a thick soup. Reaching for a bundled cloth, he opened it and pulled out several tubers, already peeled. He sliced them up with the dagger and dropped them into the pot. Tugging the hand ax from his belt, he stuck the haft through the pot handle and lifted it onto the fire, settling it in so it would not fall.

Standing and turning to Sami, Vanator reached out his hand. "Let me see your hands, I think I have something to put on the burns."

[Sami]

She watched him carefully, her eyes staring at the back of him as he continued to prepare the soup. It seemed still a bit surreal to her, the idea of a stranger willingly helping her made her uneasy. There had to be something behind it all, there had to be. Some trick she had missed or some little hint that he was not all that he made out to be. She looked about, eyes scanning the area for something she may have missed. She paced about, her feet sounding out against the ground. It felt all to convenient to her, and although she would of wanted to place it down to dumb luck she felt that it was not the correct way to go about it. It meant letting her guard down after all.
“You’re a bad liar. You know that, right?” she gave a mutter. She knew exactly how she looked, and she knew that she looked worse for wear. Even more so now that the grime had been peeled away.

Sami fidgeted for a while, her fingers plucking at the grass, feeling the edges upon her sensitive fingers. Her mind explored the possibilities, thinking through what could occur. She pulled at a blade of grass and studied it up close, twirling it gently and turning it at different angles before turning her head sharply once more to the man.
“My hands are fine,” she spoke firmly before walking towards the tree. It would perhaps been more accurate however to say that what she truly meant however was ‘I can look after myself.’ Something that she no doubt seemed impossible at doing in her current state.

Never the less, she had simply brushed him off again, fixating her attention on something else. He did not have to worry about her; he had no reason to worry about her. She may have been a child to him, but in no ways was she related to him. Strangers through and through after all. Ignorance and a reluctance to see good intentions would indeed end in being this girl’s downfall. Matched of course with a reluctance to seek help or accept it, along with a strong belief that she could ‘look after herself’. She had done it for a long time now anyway, longer than she could remember.

Her hand rested against the tree once more, her eyes analysing it as she stepped around it with a deep look of thought covering her. An air of determination rose once within her as she reached out a hand to one of the low branches. She gave it a tug, and raised a foot against the trunk, pressing the sole of it firmly upon it. She leaned back, her features creasing as they gave a cry. She knew better than to push herself, yet even the youth remained ignorant to her own self. Sami did not succeed in getting far. After a chime of struggling, weak arms reaching out and grasping and shaking nervous feet did she ended up failing. The girl fell backwards, an inevitable fate for a child who was both weak and injured, along with the lacking ability to climb. She landed with a thud, a grunt of discomfort and annoyance sounding out whilst she sat herself up. She gave him a scowl, almost as if it was his entire fault, before turning her head sharply away. Because- lets be honest- it obviously was his fault.
“You saw nothing!”

[Vanator]

When the girl rebuffed his attempt to treat the burns on her hands, Vanator simply shrugged. "Fine, suit yourself." His demeanor was an attempt to truly portray a lack of concern. Yet, the Drykas could not deny the Ankal in him that compelled him to care for others, especially one so young. But he was also a man of limited patience, and one for tough love, when necessary, for those in his care. Sami was a stranger, and there was no onus on him to provide her with anything, aside from a self-sensed moral obligation to get her home, or at least somewhere safe. As it was, the Inartan girl was not ready to accept the fact that, without him, she would not survive.

So, Vanator went about preparing the meal, digging in a pack to pull out a wooden spoon, leaning over the fire to stir the contents of the stew pot. He glance idly towards the bruised redhead as she meandered towards the tree. Then the Drykas turned back to the supplies, tugging out a steel cap, a helmet that came with his chainmail shirt that Vanator preferred to uses as a bowl. Inside it were several biscuits wrapped in a cloth. He uncovered the bread and laid it aside.

Looking up again, the man watched the trembling girl try to scale the small tree. Gods, what a determined little shyke, he mused to himself, seeing Sami's grip slip and the teen dropping to the ground with a soft thud. He did not ask if she was alright, already assuming she would not say even if her spine was broken. Van just shook his head, dropping his gaze and stifling a grin when she glowered at him and barked. "Nope, not a thing." He lied again, but this time obviously in jest.

Taking up the water skin, Vanator stood. "You may sit there and rest against the tree, if you want. Or there are biscuits by the fire. Whatever." He state flatly as he made his way to the stream where he filled the skin before returning to the small camp.

[Sami]

Sami sat there sulking for a bit, her head still turned away as if stubbornness has taken over her once more. Her arms folded defensively whilst the man went about his business, forming a wall between her and the other. Uninterested in his words at first, the girl continued up her terrible charade, or until he had gone to towards the stream. Her eyes hesitantly looked over to the camp, scanning what was there. There was only the crackle of flames to fill the momentary nothing, whilst she laid eyes on what could only be her target. The Inarta glanced towards the stream, watching him go close towards it.

It was a mad scramble to move, feet pressing her up as she darted the best she could in her state towards the fire and the supposed source of food. A relapse of her previously stubborn self as more basic needs other than a childish pride took over. She was weak, hungry, and the idea of food being present was not one she was about to pass up. She crouched next to the fire, fingers hovering over the biscuits, her head lifting as she scanned everything once more. Instinctual almost on how she watched everything to the best of her capabilities, on how she listened out for even the smallest of sounds, as if she truly wished not to be caught in the act. Not that it was a crime she was committing, or anything horrendous. Her fingers grasped at one of them and she leaned away, gnawing upon it in a slow and methodical manner. Or at least until Vanator returned.

The girl froze, eyes locked upon the man as he returned. She shuffled away from the food source and around to the other side of the fire. Continuing, Sami kept a careful eye on him. Her form had hunched in slightly, protective almost of herself. A strange contrast from her previous face. She swallowed and wetted her lips, her fingers gesturing to the biscuit she was holding, “Nice… thing by the way.”
Her face twitched whilst she tried to compose herself, forcing out her reluctant shoulders and bolster the same spark she wore earlier.
“You want to know about the camp do you not?” she spoke up and locked her eyes across the flames. Her head turned away, ashamed of what she had done. Which was the case, for that ruined camp was indeed her fault. Those smouldering remains of destruction brought upon by what she deemed the heaviest weight to bare. Reimancy. She gave a swallow, and admitted to her sins, “The fire. The destruction. That was me.”

[Vanator]

When Vanator returned with fresh water, Sami scurried away from the food, like a hungry little prairie rat, hunkered over her biscuit as if someone was going to take it away. He was glad she was eating though, she would need her strength. "Its a biscuit, my sister makes them with buttermilk." He replied as he crouched down to stir the soup again.

Tendrils of steam was now rising from the pot, and Vanator poked his dagger into a chunk of tuber to test its tenderness. Not quite ready. As he worked, the Drykas watched Sami surreptitiously, though that was fruitless, since she likewise kept her eyes on him. Suddenly, as if reaching some long debated decision, Sami's spine straightened, her eyes quickening again with that spark. Finally, the girl was ready to speak up about what had happened at the camp. With a cocked brow, Van turned his head more fully towards the redhead.

His features pinched, brow furrowing with a suspicious confusion. She did it, did what? Fire, destruction...she did it? Vanator didn't understand. Maybe Sami was just toying with him, or trying to earn some kind of respect, concocting some cock n' bull story. Certainly the petite girl did not instigate whatever had befallen the camp and its mysterious, missing occupants.

Vanator's eyes narrowed, but the doubt was stripped from his tone. "What do you mean by 'you did it'?"

[Sami]

It was perhaps the look that the man gave that made Sami recoil back. The last of the biscuit was swallowed, and her hands went together the fingers lacing together. Her eyes however turned upon the Drykas for an instant, even as her throat constricted. She felt herself being put on the spot, the questioning eyes and voice demanding an explanation. Her hairs raised on end, her teeth chewing at her lip. She did not like the situation she had just thrown herself in, it meant more questions, it meant having to give more answers. And more answers meant that he would no more. Would she be shunned if he knew? Her head shook, her eyes looking away for good this time and about the camp. She did not want to answer any more; she just felt the nagging thought to get up and go. To not once look back.

Yet here she was, paralysed not with worry but that low underlying stubbornness that ran deep through her. That deep weight that kept her fixated in place. It was a problem she would have to face, whether she liked it or not. Even if instinct commanded her to drop everything and run. She squirmed, her mind flickering through the best way to get across to him what she meant. If her fluency laid in the common tongue she would have told him without hesitation, or if he could speak Nari then she would have opened up with information- or at least as well as her nervous mind would of allowed it. But that was not the case. Her tongue stumbled, as she tried to explain herself.
“Exactly that! I mean, I did it. Re-Rei...mi… bah! The fire I made it. I started it. It caused a distraction. It caused chaos. It broke me out. It… it…” she looked down upon her clasped hands as if seeking help from them “I made it. It burned through my cage. It’s true!”

She flinched back after her exclamation, her brow turning to a frown in defeat. Sami was no longer sure how to get across what she was trying to say, and her eyes were ever fixed now upon her hands, the raw pink skin and the scar she had received years before stuck in her vision. She gave a tremble, lips pursing together as she tried to think. She knew she could show him what she meant, but she was unsure on what his exact reaction would be. “I’m not lying.”

[Vanator]

Sami seemed to regret her statement as soon as she blurted it out, disappointing the Drykas. Vanator could visibly see the youth's distress, her uneasy fidgeting and quick drop of her gaze. Van knew she was not lying, her discomfort inferring a deeper troubling within her. He just literally didn't understand what she meant by her words. His eyes remained fixed on the girl, watching her internal struggle, hoping she would find the courage to elaborate. Vanator set aside the wooden spoon, rising slowly to his feet as Sami again tried to explain.

" I did it. Re-Rei...mi… bah! The fire I made it. I started it." The man's brow knitted together as the girl's accented tongue struggled with an explanation. But Vanator had an inkling. Slowly, he strode around the fire to Sami, not too close. She was staring at her hands, and Vanator's gaze lighted briefly on his own as he held them open, seeing the small precise scars in each palm. Carefully, the Drykas crouched before Sami, to put himself near the same level as she. His eyes remained fixed on her, trying to find her eyes, as if searching for some clue that his hunch was correct. Again his gaze fell to her clasped hands, the palms pressed together too closely for him to find what he was seeking.

Vanator spoke, eyes on Sami's down turned gaze, his voice soft and nonthreatening. He closed his right hand into a loose fist, coaxing just a bit of Res into his palm. "Do you mean, like this?" Van opened his hand, willing the small cloud of greenish mist to ignite into a small tongue of fire. "Is this what you did?"