Closed [Warrens/Aries]A Borrowed Bath(Edric Wingard)

[Ainyi]

37 Winter, 513 AV

"And that's time!" The supervisor called. She was one of the elder Chiets, on her way to becoming a true Elder. Short, and shrewd, hearing her call time was pretty much the only pleasant noise that came out of her these days. Ainyi and the other workers all wrapped up what they were doing, cleaned the blood of the animals off of the chopping boards, put away the salts. Everyone dumped their bloody, grimy arms into the same bucket, though it was at the same time. They all scrubbed quickly, watching as the clear bucket of water turned deep red almost instantly. After toweling off her hands, there was an obvious line where she was washed her hands after work...and where the rest of her didn't get any washing. from her forearm up to - well, the rest of her body - a light coating of dirt grew thicker every day.

Despite her best attempts at cleanliness, she works in a butchery. With the baths closed due to contaminated water, the smell of the butchery slowly began to follow her. She could feel the grime on her face caked on. The oils in her hair making it look permanently wet. She spent her time in public wrapped in a Katinu, just to keep her smell in. Though, even that wasn't working at this point, as the smell was imbued into her katinu now. With a heavy sigh, she put the apron on the rack with the others, and donned the katinu. At least everyone was smelling equally bad together, in the lower classes. They all grumbled about their Endals and their personal baths, but until they were ready to storm the baths, and take them by force, that wasn't changing. Looking at the bitter expressions on her colleagues, though...

Shaking the idea of a violent uprising from her mind, she tightened the Katinu about her thinning frame, and stepped out into the cold. She'd been saving her Pinions for a while, so in lieu of a scarf, she used her extraordinarily large amount of hair. She pulled it over her ears, set it back a little to cover her neck in the back, then wrapped about her chest. She grabbed her pack, latched on her quiver and Yasa, and left to the cold.

The winter chill hurt, but thankfully there was very little of it this deep in the Warrens. She huddled to herself, and began her walk home. Normally, she would bathe first...but she didn't feel like being poisoned.

A lot had been going on for Ainyi. A lot she couldn't stop thinking of. While she felt no closer to finding her father's murderer, she was uncovering plenty with the Despised. What was he planning? Where would he take Wind Reach? So many of the Chiet and Deks worshiped him. But would he bring about change. Ainyi shook her head. All he's doing is controlling them, using them blindly like dolls. He used the premise of advocating for equality to brainwash and manipulate the masses into following his orders without thinking.

Even on the moral grounds, Ainyi didn't know what to think. Surely, her father would support the lower castes requesting better treatment, and she genuinely believed in it, too. But would inciting riots get them to listen?

She paused in her walk. The world became a haze as she looked at the floor in deep though. Would they listen at anything else? Before that thought even finished, she shook it from her head. This man may have killed her father. Whatever he may be doing, however justified, that she will not forgive. Cannot.

Slowly, her thoughts turned to Wingard. To their moment in the Processing Center. To his help in the Warrens. A silly, girlish smile crept on her face, one that wasn't intended originally. His presence just...comforted her. When he was about, she would find herself doing what she could to stay with him for a while longer. She didn't understand what compelled her, or how it happened, but it just...did.

Shaking her head of the silly notions, she raised her head to actually watch where she was going. As she rounded a corner, a face seemed familiar to her. Very familiar to her.

Wingard.

Inside, she panicked. She was covered in dirt and grim. Her hair was awful. Caiyha knows how she smelled. Here he approached, relatively clean, perhaps smelling of whatever nice scents they put in the Endal bath waters. She locked eyes with him, and smiled weakly. She couldn't turn back or hide now. There was no way around it. She clamped her arms firmly to her sides, and tried to rub the worst of the grime on her face to her hands. Before he approached, she wondered for a tick why she mentally tortured herself for an inescapable condition. Why she felt so embarrassed of herself, why her confidence seemed to leave her, in this man's presence? One who would understand, perhaps empathize, her position?

The gap was closed too quickly for any of those questions to have answers.

"Wingard!" She cried an affectionate greeting to her friend, though made no move to physically touch him. She was too afraid of him recoiling repulsively from her at the moment for that. "How nice to run into you again. How are you faring, friend?"

As she stopped moving, she felt the cold seep into her clothes, hidden icy tendrils that crept through every layer of clothing like passing through a shadow. She placed her tongue between her teeth so that when they chattered, they would do so silently. While it was never convenient to have such fleeting conversations in the cold...she still found herself doing it.

About this point, she stopped trying to consider why she acted...and simply did. And then her smile grew stronger.

[Edric Wingard]

It was another cold day in Wind Reach and Edric once again found himself impatiently waiting for winter to be over. This time, it wasn’t because of the fact that it was unbearably cold, or that people were nearly frothing at the mouth because of hunger, or even the fact that he had been so incompetent at hunting recently that he was even contemplating hanging his bow up for the rest of the season. No, what was getting him down today was the fact that whenever he walked into the close confines of the Warrens, his nose was assaulted by such a stench that he involuntarily gagged.

This smell curdled his stomach, demanding that he contribute to the disgusting smell that cloaked the enclosed tunnels with a smog of disgustingness by emptying the little contents that sloshed around in his stomach acid. He valiantly fought against such a feeling, however, his pride demanding that he stay on his feet and walk through the death trap rather than lean on the wall and dry heave. Swallowing the acid that was filling the insides of his mouth, the man shivered in disgust as he quickly made his way towards the kitchens. He knew that the reek would be even worse in that area as unwashed bodies congregated towards the only place one could receive food, but Wingard knew the importance of sustenance and was determined to eat his fill before escaping back into his cave and remembering how to breathe. He really wasn’t that hungry, if he was honest, the smell in the Warrens doing a number to his appetite, but he was a rather large Eagle and if he didn’t eat, then he wouldn’t be able to hunt and contribute to the emaciated society known as Wind Reach.

Breathing shallowly through his mouth now, the Kelvic was pretty sure he could taste the body odour that was perfuming the air. He wanted to groan but knew that that would only result in him breathing in more of the toxic air he was trying so fruitlessly to escape so he refrained from such an action, instead reminding himself that he could curse out loud once he had made it back outside. At least it was winter, he thought, attempting to look at the situation with an optimistic light. The cold at least, limited the stench so that it was not as fragrant as it could have been if it were summer. Then again though, if it was summer, people could bathe in Thunder Bay and they could have avoided this entire fiasco.

Feeling another gag coming on, he swallowed noisily, his face contorting into an utter look of disgust as he shimmied past the unclean bodies, pressing his back to the wall in order to limit the likelihood of contact. He wouldn’t necessarily call himself a cleanliness freak, but he certainly did not want to come in contact with any of the bacteria that were surely festering upon the flesh of those around him. Literally flattening himself against the wall as a Dek went by so closely that Wingard smelt his breath; the hunter said a silent goodbye to his stomach as it begged for its contents to be released.

Hissing in annoyance at the stupidity of it all, the Eagle began swiftly moving down the corridors, determined to just get the hell out of here. Petch the food, he thought angrily, his thin body ducking and twirling as he maneuvered past the dirty Inarta around him. Hunger was the lesser of evils in this case and he was utterly done with this scenario. Just as he was turning a corner, he nearly had a head-on collision with Ainyi. Thankfully, she saw him before he noted her and it was with immense relief that he noted she halted their contact. Looking upwards to greet her, his eyes widened in disbelief as his keen vision took in the rather unsightly look of her.

Her face, not necessarily beautiful but usually quite nice to look at, was covered in streaks of god knows what while her hair; which usually shone with cleanliness was so oily and crusted over that the man actually took a physical step away from her. Wingard even noted the look of her hands and he had to physically withhold the look of disgust that was just begging to be exposed upon his features. It was simply because of the fact that he rather liked the Chiet that he controlled his reactions, reminding himself that it was not her fault that she looked like some grime covered vagrant that he didn’t want to touch with a fifteen foot pole. It didn’t matter that she was so unappealing at this moment that the inner clean freak within him was screaming at him to purge her flesh and burn her clothes with the hottest of fires. No, Wingard swallowed. He would not let that show on his face.

Smiled rather wanly at the woman, the Eagle spoke, his thin voice resembling a man choking, “Yes, so nice to run into you. I’m quite fine, thank you. You look,” he paused here, his mind racing with something polite to say, “hygienic.”

He blinked at such a weak statement, his voice having trailed off at such a high octave that he silently wondered if he was channeling his eagle’s vocal cords. Coughing, he looked away; playing it off as embarrassment, but really he just wanted to spare his keen vision from such a horrible sight that he was sure would plague his nightmares for the next couple days.

Making sure the distance between them stayed the same so his eyes wouldn’t water, the Kelvic tried to eliminate the awkwardness that was beginning to settle in the air. It was obvious to him that she needed to bathe and that Ainyi would never keep herself in such a state willingly, but the man was rather unsure what to do. He knew the right thing would be to offer his own private bath to the woman, but at the same time, he selfishly wished that she wouldn’t taint his clean home with her odour and mess. Griping at such an inner debate, the man tried to push his arrogant thoughts aside. He was beginning to quite like Ainyi in ways he wasn’t sure he was willing to investigate yet, and the right thing one needed to do for those they cared about was to take care of them. So, regardless of his own yearning need to keep his bath clean, he decided that it would be best to give himself over as a martyr.

Besides, he did not want to be near her until she was cleansed, anyway.

Sighing in resignation, he still didn’t bother to look at the woman, his gaze planted on the suddenly interesting wall, but he stated rather thinly, “Ainyi, I do not mean to offend, but would you like to rid yourself of such filth in my private quarters? Your current company is too… fragrant for my preferred senses right now.”

Yes, that was phrased rather well.

[Ainyi]

Ainyi was many things, but she was not stupid. She saw the forced nature of his smile, and the distance he kept. She saw the green tinge on his face at every passerby, and the expression on his brow. She had always seen Edric well kept, so it wasn't surprising that he couldn't handle the smell of things around him. She wondered if he also had the feelings she had, since he stomached it all enough to stop and make pleasantries with her. This idea seemed to amuse her immensely. She cocked her head to the side, eager to hear his greeting to see if this theory was holding up.

"You look...hygenic."

...Really?

Ainyi's eyebrows arched, green orbs boring into him. Her arms crossed over her chest, her chin dropped, and she stared deep at him. Her stare said many things. Many things that she knew Edric would understand.

"Hygenic?" She repeated back incredulously. A thick strand of plastered, greasy hair fell in front of her dirt-trodden face. She took a grimy, brown-red stained finger and tucked it behind her ear. Her gaze - or scent - must have done something, because he seemed to be extremely interested in the floor at the moment. Before she had time to berate him further for such a polite lie, she heard him nervously uttered:

“Ainyi, I do not mean to offend, but would you like to rid yourself of such filth in my private quarters? Your current company is too… fragrant for my preferred senses right now.”

Ainyi, too amused by his desperate attempts to remain polite, scoffed with feigned offense at him, her expression exaggerated. "Why, Wingard! If I'm so hygenic, how is possible that my current fragrance is so offensive?"

She feigned serious long enough for him to look her in the eye, upon which she burst out laughing. Realizing how ungrateful this may come across, she berated herself inwardly and cleared her throat.

"In all seriousness," she started, eyes beaming up at him. "I would be eternally grateful if you let me use your bath. I promise, I'll scrub everything on my person, clothes included, and try to leave the the place best I can. They put nice smelling things in your bath, yes? I'm sure I can spread it around in the air after me or something."

Well well. Things were interesting indeed. Perhaps Ainyi would be able to gauge his interest in her after all.

spoiler :

Random OOC note, I don't know if you like Miyazaki movies or Spirited away, but I'm pretty sure this is how Edric feels about her right now. I died laughing at the thought. And, back to playing.

[Edric Wingard]

Wingard bit down dangerously hard upon his inner lip. The skin split beneath the sharpened edges, flooding his mouth with a metallic taste that did nothing to calm his nauseous stomach. Swallowing loudly, he kept his features blank; the sharp angles of his face forced into a faux relaxed state as his eye imperceptibly twitched. It was the only indication that he had heard the woman’s blasphemy, his vision blurring around the edges as he stared fiercely at the wall with the determination and focus that he usually gave to his targets before he killed them. Inwardly he hissed, his inner self recoiling in such disgust that it was scraping its immaculately manicured nails down the mental barriers it was trapped in with the hope of escaping such a prison.

‘Dear Zulrav,’ he thought crazily, inwardly cringing, ’Were the toxic gases permeating off of her skin so strong that they were poisoning her mind into insanity?’ Grinding his teeth together, the rapture once again thought about taking off for the hills; fearing that her toxicity would eventually effect his own brain sensors and cause him to experience hallucinations as crazy as the ones Ainyi seemed to be undergoing. He knew logically that the only sickness he could receive from her would be a bacterial head cold, but his cleanliness obsession was tainting his reasoning to the point that he was beginning to view the Chiet’s body odour as disease inducing.

The silence continued to stretch.

Cringing again, he swiftly darted his eyes towards the archer’s in order to gauge what was going on. As their eyes connected, he physically blanched as she began to laugh. Gods, it seemed the smell had affected her brain. Taking another step back, he quickly redirected his gaze away from the woman once again, her laughs chilling his spine and causing his body to shudder at the insanity. Perhaps it would be better if he just skedaddled. Yup. He needed to escape before she turned into some vicious animal and attempted to make a grab for him. Waving half-heartedly at the woman, the man began backpedaling down the corridor only to stop when her voice touched his ears once again. It seemed to be free of the manic laughter, so the eagle hesitated in creating anymore distance as he listened stoically to the woman.

His lips twitched downwards into an irritated frown as he realized that she was playing with his OCD, and for a moment, he really wanted to just say ‘petch her’ and leave her to her filth, but he once again stopped himself. Ainyi was a friend, he reminded himself, and although she was being entirely ungrateful, it would be rude of him to rescind his offer because she was simply having fun - at his expense. Grumbling rather mulishly, he glared at the woman openly to display his disdain for her pathetic act, but gingerly began taking steps towards her once again.

“As long as my sanction is cleansed after your use, I am sure it will be fine. Otherwise,” he murmured, stopping several feet away from her again, “You’re going to be on your hands and knees cleaning my home.” Looking away again, the man threw his head to the side to insinuate that she should follow him before he once again began making his way home.

Scooting past the disgusting bodies of filth, Wingard efficiently scurried up the Inner Warrens, his body plastered to the cold stone a constant reminder of the need to remain vigilant as he made his escape. Nearly throwing himself to the left to avoid a group of ill-smelling Dek, the eagle stumbled clear of several individuals but smacked his elbow off of the opposing wall. Groaning, he rubbed the offended appendage, silently fuming at the indecency he was going through. He imagined he looked like a prized idiot; throwing his body around and weaving like a crazed drunk as he avoided contact with people, but he refused to soil his own skin.

Seeing the beautiful miracle of the end of the tunnel, the Avora practically sprinted towards the light, driving his form into the open air with a short cry of victory. As the cold slammed into his body and the wind cut through him mercilessly, the eagle simply inhaled loudly. He thought about crying in his relief, and he was pretty sure his eyes may have been watering, but the man merely harrumphed at such unmanliness. Instead, he extended his clenched fists to his sides, closing his eyes as he reveled in the beauty of winter and his sudden hypocrisy. Nothing else mattered in this moment. He didn’t care that for the last fourty days, he had sworn up and down this mountain against Morwen’s presence as he trumped down towards the Warrens. No, he didn’t care that his skin was covered in gooseflesh and practically was begging for him to go back inside for warmth. No, all that Wingard cared about was the freedom his nostrils had and the cold, but more importantly, pleasant smelling air he was currently gasping down like a waterless fish.

Praise Zulrav.

Absently remembering that Ainyi was supposed to have been following him, Wingard directed his gaze over his shoulder to see how she was faring. He had forgotten her presence when he was so focused on evading the germ-infested creatures that stalked the Inner Warrens. Feeling slightly sheepish, he waited for her to appear behind him (at a respectable distance, of course) before beginning to make his way back to his aerie. Humming as they walked, it may have suspiciously sounded like he was singing about “beautiful, clean, clean air, how I love how you fair – in my nose!” but the eagle would mulishly deny such a thing. Clicking his tongue as they finally made it back to his home, the Avora looked disdainfully at Ainyi from the corner of his eye before directing his gaze back at the entrance to his home, mournfully. For a moment, he looked like a kicked puppy at the idea of letting her into his domain, but with a dramatic sigh, he finally relented.

“Please come in, Ainyi.”

[Ainyi]

Her lips began wide and mirthful after the joke. They slowly fell in confusion as she saw him walking away from her slowly. Then, lastly, they closed apologetically at his irritated expression. It was one thing to tease her friends over petty matters, but he was offering her a bath despite his obvious disgust with her. She hung her head at his threat, akin to a puppy that just realized they had done something wrong. She didn't expect it to do much for her in her current state, but it was certainly better than nothing.

Watching Edric weave and dodge contact with the Chiet and Dek on the way to his Aerie left an embarrassed tinge in the woman's eyes. Once they were past Wingard, many of the lower caste members exchanged bitter looks, directing some at Ainyi. She mouthed apologies on his behalf, wondering if he realized the insults he was causing. It wasn't as though any of them could control their state. Such a haughty fear of the slightest touch left glowering stares. A clean, well fed Endal doing all he could to run from the lower castes didn't look well on Ainyi, either. It was at this point, she realized with a sink in her stomach, that when she came to work the next day clean, she was likely subject to some harsh treatment from her colleagues. They had already been teasing her for making friends in high places; she wasn't sure how friendly those teases would remains.

Swallowing, she winced as Edric slammed against the wall into his elbow. It was clearly too late to go back now, after all the discomfort (physical and otherwise) he was putting aside to do her this favor. Shrugging deeper into her Katinu, she pressed on from a respectable distance behind, trying to appear as small and meek as she could to avoid the stares of her colleagues as she ascended into the Aerie.

Ainyi planted herself at the entrance of the Aerie, the cold air slamming her almost instantly. She gasped the air in and tried not to shudder, holding her ground. Wingard was certainly touchy enough about her at the moment, that she decided entering without a direct invitation would be a bad idea. She waited patiently as the hunter gulped in breaths, physically far more relaxed in his own setting. She found herself smiling a little. Wingard was hardly a relaxed person; seeing him let himself down like this was refreshing, in more than one way. And - her ears perked, head cocking in curiousity - was that singing he did? The Chiet did what she could to suppress her giggles, fearful he would take insult to that as well right now. She made a mental note to bring it up when she was more habitually clean.

At his invitation, Ainyi smiled as pleasantly as she could, before stepping to the entrance. She did her best to hold her jaw up as the astonishment spread on her face. Truly, she hadn't been in an Aerie since she was a small girl, and this one was very spacious...and clean. Looking across the room, she saw the entrance to the personal bath; it steamed with naturally heated water from the volcano.

"You...have a lovely Aerie," She felt herself saying to fill the silence. "I visited one once when I was young, with my mother. It's prettier than I remember."

Before she took a step further, a sick realization swept her face. Her shoes were possibly the dirtiest things on her. Looking across the most likely frigid floor, she gulped and counted the steps to the bath. She could probably make it in about fifteen. Biting her lip, and forcing a polite smile, she removed her ankle boots, intending to walk the rest of the way there barefoot. Truthfully, her feet were one of the cleanest parts on her. There was, in fact, a line of dirt that lay on her ankle, showing where the boot ended and skin stuck out. An involuntary yelp rose out of her when her bare skin touched the ice-cold floor. She half jogged, half jumped as she made her way to the bathing room. The warm stone stung on the frigid toes momentarily, before warming over her with great comfort. A sigh of relief came from her as the steam washed over her like a blanket.

"I believe I am greatly indebted to you, my dear Wingard," She expressed to the man from the doorway of the bath, green eyes sparkling in the mist of the fresh warm water. "You'll have to let me know what I can do to make this up to you. Short of hiding a body, I'll be happy to do just about anything." Looking longfully at the steaming, pristine water, she sighed, adding with a smile, "If you'll excuse me, I have some dirt to remove." Leaving a playful wink at the end of that, Ainyi placed Yasa and her arrows to stand guard outside the bath, and slipped into the room further to undress and lay down her things.

As the Katinu, Bryda, Vinati, and undergarments fell away, Ainyi exhaled deeply, feeling the dirt crawl on her skin, an itchy exterior that needed to be shed. She slowly stepped into the pool, the heat bubbling over her. She let out an audible groan of content as the water consumed her flesh. There was a soft, herbal scent to the water that made Ainyi wonder if she had passed on and been taken by the Tomb of the Fallen into a sweet surrender.

Standing, she was about waist deep in the bath. She immediately began scrubbing with the utensils nearby, watching two weeks of dirt, sweat and grime peel off of her like skin from an old sunburn. She dipped down her face, raising it a few shades paler. Hair, now doubled in weight, begged her to remain in the water's sweet embrace. As she scrubbed at her hair, she found herself humming a tune from a song her mother used to sing with her in the bath. It was simple but happy tune that filled the silence as she scrubbed her underarms, and breasts, slewing her hair to one side so she could properly scrub her back. Ainyi breathed slowly with eyes slit closed through the whole process.

Within twenty chimes, her skin was a fleshy pink, and the water was..surprisingly clear. Upon further inspection, she looked to the base of the bath, and found two holes; one sucking water in, one pushing new water out. There was a dirty twister that funneled into the hole that sucked the water away. Ainyi bit her lip and decided she shouldn't let Wingard see the place until that had settled. In the mean time, her clothes were an entirely different story. She quickly wet and scrubbed each item, placing them neatly in a row in the back of the room. The dirt bled from each article, and added to the swirl of dirt that pumped away from the bath.

This was all well and good, and Ainyi could already feel her skin breathe through it all nicely...at least, until she came to a realization while brushing out her hair. All her clothes would need some time to dry on the heated surface of the floor. And she had no towel or other clothing to speak of. She grinned a little. The time had come for a little fun.

Once the majority of dirt from her body and clothes had swirled away, she pulled herself languidly from the water, sitting on it's edge. She swept her hair off to the side, gooseflesh coating her torso, and supported herself with her arms behind her, body in full view. Her narrow waist, made smaller by the Famine, gave way to wide Inartan childbirthing hips. She poised herself, letting the drops of water slope on each curve of her body.

"Wingard," She called politely. "I don't suppose you have a spare cloth or towel on hand? My clothes are still drying, and I've not much to dry myself with."

[Edric Wingard]

As the woman removed her boots and left them at the entrance to his home, the eagle let out a quiet sigh of relief. He had not initially seen the filth that was caked to her shoes, but he was sure that had they stepped into his home, he would have known of the horror they presented to his pristine floors. Slightly toeing the monstrosities, Wingard silently reminded himself to clean the poor excuse of footwear for Ainyi before she left his home. It would hardly do her any good to rid her body of filth only to stick her feet back into it, he mused, stepping into his home and closing the door deftly. Stepping into the common area, he removed his own boots and placed them against the wall, watching from the corner of his eye as the woman flinted towards the baths. He was rather surprised that she guessed correctly and chose the right door, but he held his tongue and didn’t bother to comment.

From what he knew, most of the Aeries were designed differently so it was an impressive feat for her to seemingly glare through the walls and figure out where the room that she wanted was located. Idly, he wondered if she figured out where his chambers were with such a technique. Grinning at the thought, he watched as she fairly beamed at the metal tub; promising to commit murder for him if he so wished as compensation for his facilities. After all, she may have refuted hiding a body, but she never said no to killing one. Rolling his shoulders as she disappeared behind the wall, the eagle silently wondered what to do with himself while she bathed. He was not used to having company as his Aerie was rarely visited, so the Kelvic was unsure on how to treat his guest. Clicking his tongue in annoyance at his predicament, the man decided that it would simply be best to do something productive rather than sit around uselessly twiddling his thumbs.

Moving towards his sword which rested near the entrance to the common room, he deftly retrieved it from the floor. His Aerie was just as spacious as the others, he knew, but it really was hardly anything to be impressed over. Many of his neighbours had spent pinions decorating their homes so that they reflected them, but Wingard could not be bothered to do so. To him, his aerie was simply a place to rest his feet or wings, so he hardly spent the time personalizing it. The damp stone walls were uncovered, while a single mat lay in the center of the common room. This basic set-up could easily be described as plain, but the rapture appreciated the simplicity of such a design and he relished in the open space it provided. Like his love for the skies, Wingard preferred open concepts where he did not feel trapped or claustrophobic.

With his common room, the emptiness also allowed him the opportunity to practice many maneuvers that he would not have been able to try otherwise. Removing his katinu, the young man tucked it into one of the many shelves that were cut into the walls and rolled his shoulders, loosening the tightened muscles. With a sigh, he easily unsheathed the blade, setting the scabbard against the same wall he placed his katinu in. For a moment, he craned his head to the sides, popping the vertebrae that seemed to be grinding against one another. Once that tension was taken care of, he lifted the sword in his left hand and proceeded to slowly spin the blade. His wrist bent backwards as he began the swing, the blade following the motion. As it snapped forward to complete the rotation, the sword followed as well, creating a windmill effect as the Avora increased the speed with each rotation. It was a simple exercise, he knew, but getting used to the feel of the sword once again was incredibly important. It was supposed to be an extension of his arm, after all, and it was only with practice and simple exercises such as this that such a feeling of comfort could be achieved.

Continuing to spin the blade, the man began making passes with his other arm as well. His left hand was his dominant one, but the eagle knew it was important to be versatile, so he passed the sword to his right. Seamlessly making the transition, he continued the rotation with his right, finishing the windmill completely before beginning again. Forgoing another pass, he attempted to recreate the smooth spins of his dominant hand but felt the faltering of the blade easily. His right wrist was not used to the added weight of the Talon Blade and Wingard flinched as each turn felt uncomfortable. The rotations were hardly as ‘pretty’ as his other hand, but he continued at them, knowing that only with practice and strengthening exercises that its strength would grow.

When his right wrist began to grow tired, he switched the sword back to his left hand, gripping it for a moment before he arched the blade over his head in a clockwise spin, exposing the bottom of his wrist upwards as he exited the turn and completed the swing, freezing the motion when he hit his imaginary target. Pausing, he studied the form of his arm before him, directing his wrist to tuck inwards in order to fix the hit. Going again, he completed the motion fluidly this time, his wrist in the appropriate finishing position. The sword motion he was practicing was a basic overhead roundhouse swing; a technique that could be useful as a counterattack after completing an overhead block from an opposing blade. The important part of this specific counter was that it needed to be done quickly as it exposed one’s chest to the opponent and practically begged for someone to stick him.

Letting out a breath, he was beginning to move into a combination counter that incorporated his elbow when his guest’s voice startled him. His focus broken, the man turned his gaze sharply to the baths, remembering that Ainyi was occupying the room. Absently, he realized that the woman had been singing in the background while he practiced and he was somewhat startled that he had temporarily forgotten her presence. That was the second time that he had done that today, and it worried him that he felt comfortable enough in her presence to stop seeing her as a threat to his person. Grimacing at the thought of exposing himself to such a weakness, he slowly sheathed his sword. This would not do, he thought crossly, his lips pulling into a worried frown as he made his way over to the shelf outside of the baths that had the extra towels. Ainyi was beginning to weaken his defenses and by doing that, it was opening up far too many emotions that he was not ready to deal with.

Picking up a towel, he quickly walked into the room, his thoughts dark and cumbersome as he entered. Absently, he figured that if he was a better host he would have given her a towel to begin with, but alas, his inexperience was obvious and it was too late to change now. Opening it, he glanced up at her as he came into the room, speaking frankly as he said, “I apologize for the oversight, Ainyi.”

For a moment he simply stared at her; silently questioning why she was sitting on the edge of the metal tub as he imagined that the edge must have been uncomfortable digging into her arse and thighs. He blinked, raising an eyebrow as his keen eyes then began to realize that she seemed rather posed upon the edge and perhaps she was not sitting there simply because she was into pain. Raising a slim eyebrow, he found his lips quirking up slightly at the thought of the woman attempting to play coy with him. Unlike the Inarta, to the Kelvic, a naked body was hardly anything to be impressed by. He took a moment to simply stare at her openly as his animalistic side was known to do, before raising the towel upwards to insinuate that she come towards him and step into the dry fabric he was offering. Wingard was rather sure that she was attempting to seduce him, but he found his mind focusing more on trying to imagine how she prepped herself prior to calling him in. Did women normally put themselves in uncomfortable positions so that men could fall shamelessly to the floor and beg for a better angle?

He cackled mentally at imagining the naked Ainyi sitting herself down on the metal frame and then plunging backwards back into the tub after a failed attempt to accent her hips just right. The poor eagle found himself more interested in seeing the angry red dent that was surely marring her flesh rather than the pretty figure he now knew she had. Watching as it took her a moment to move, the Avora took it upon himself to take the first step. Her attempt at seduction was pitifully obvious, so he figured he could only return the favour.

Approaching her with a bored expression upon his face, the man draped the towel over her shoulders. Gently, he placed his hands there, slowly rubbing them up and down as he removed the excess water from her skin. Taking a moment, he gathered her hair into his right hand, twisting it around his knuckles easily as he lifted it from her body. Tugging upwards lightly but in a dominating manner, he directed her chin to her chest to expose her neck, allowing him to dry it easily with the towel. He paused there for a moment, sensually dragging his nimble fingers over her neck to massage the pink flesh, working out the knots that he felt there. Not bothering to let go of her hair, he used it like an anchor to turn it whichever way he wanted, the friction from the fabric accompanying his hands as he marked her skin.

Feeling satisfied once the knots he detected were gone, he dragged the towel over her flush skin once again. His movements were confident as they stroked the undersides of her breasts as they travelled south, brushing her skin gently as his fingers teased her wet flesh. As his lingering hands finished with her back and sides, he laid the towel back on her shoulders before unwinding her hair from his hand. Gently, he placed the twisted locks over one of her shoulders and smiling rather victoriously behind her head, he patted the top of her hair, ruffling it and effectively killing the mood. The touch was reminiscent of an elder petting a kid playfully, and with the smile still decorating his mouth the eagle said happily, “There you go, let me know if you need anything else.”

Winking as her eyes turned towards him, Wingard tucked his hands into the pockets of his bryda, his exposed chest leaning backwards into a relaxed stance before he saluted her and exited the bathroom, inwardly cackling all the while.

That’ll show her.

[Ainyi]

As Wingard entered, Ainyi dropped her head a little and pressed her shoulders back for a little extra effect. She smirked playfully as the Avora drank in her body with his eyes; granted, her body teetered slightly on the edge of the tub, and holding the position was becoming a bit of a balance challenge. With her entire arse hanging outside the tub, there was an, - er - lack of proper weight distribution to keep this up forever. Truly, she didn't know how other women kept this up, and how they did this so easilly. She bit her lower lip coyly as he raised the towel in tease, something for her to chase. Welcoming the invitation to move from her perch, the woman pushed her hips forward from where they sat on the tub, but her feet slipped on the wet surface below. She managed to catch herself with the front lid of the tub before getting out, but whether Wingard was in physical or mental fits of laugher, her face was as dark red as her hair. She supposed she was just more adept at a more...clumsy type of seduction.

Sautering her hips to him slowly, Ainyi's eyes quirked in surprise as Wingard wrapped the towel around her frame. Frankly, this level of interest was contradicting and confusing to her. She had expected something entirely shier, entirely meeker, but there was something down right bestial in his gaze not at tick before when her body was displayed in the bath. Yet now, as she stood wrapped in his towel and arms, his gaze seemed...disinterested. Her wild eyes met his calm shimmering gold ones, a storm breaching a coast. The quick change between the two left Ainyi to cock her head to the side, brow furrowed.

The woman opened her mouth to comment on it...and let her jaw go slack, eyes slitting closed. The hunter knew his muscles; or at the very least, knew his touch soothed her. As his hand coiled around her hair, her whole scalp lit up as though touched by electricity. She let out a natural smile at the touch, letting the good feelings wash over. Suddenly, Ainyi felt a jerk as Wingard now used her hair to manipulate her head at his whim, and she grinned mischievously at the turn of events. Here she had been the hunter, yet felt herself falling prey to his own advances - and rather liking it. She groaned lightly in relaxation as his fingers kneaded over her neck, finding every knot of stress and dispelling it.

Something occurred to her, as he rolled her neck to the side and continued his massage. He had power over her. She was letting him touch her, roll her neck, be in her space - petch, she wanted him there. She wanted his touch on her body, in her hair. Her head was a ragdoll, moving any which way he beckoned, permitting his hands to roam across her body. She shuddered pleasurably as he dried her breasts, feeling something stir within her. She felt enveloped in a rapture as he untwined her hair, felt across her body, placing the towel about her. Something began to ache in her chest; it felt foreign to her, but absolutely delightful. She closed her eyes and succumbed to it, shocked at this display of affection.

At least, until he ruffled her hair like a child.

As she opened her eyes to face his wink, Ainyi's face contorted in confusion. A tick ago, she was being caressed all over her body; the next, she was being treated like a younger sister. She blinked as she watched the amusement cross his face before he turned around nonchalantly. Was he...toying with her? Did he see her interest and do all of this just to mock her? Before he fully turned around, he would see the beginnings of a deflated pout form on her face.

What in Miza are you doing? A voice snapped at her internally. You were playing a game with him. He played he game to you. That is all this is. Her brow furrowed as she finished drying her legs and feet. She had just expected to fluster him, yet found herself flustered. Shaking her head, she tied the towel at her hips, leaving her small, but shapely breasts to breathe in the open air; her left leg slid out of the slit the tie made on the side. If this was a game, then he just stole the lead from her in a bad way, and she'd need to catch up in a bad way. She felt her socks on the floor, and figured they'd be dry enough that she could walk the floor outside without her feet freezing off.

"What a courteous host you are," Ainyi found herself commenting as she slipped out of the bathroom in her temporary wardrobe. Gooseflesh ran over her entire torso, perking her breasts in a delicate sort of way. Her hair coiled like a long ember snake that trailed down her spine, any excess liquid trailing off into the towel at the small of her back. She approached where he stood, and ran a solitary finger down his back, experimenting with the physical touch and physical space with one another. "I'm sure any visitor to your Aerie would find every comfort tended to." Lightly, she pressed her chest against his back, her finger tracing down the muscles on his shoulder leading into his arms. At least, for a little while. Then that word struck her for a moment. Aerie.

Pulling away, Ainyi wordlessly looked around the living space, wandering about the room slightly as her face gathered in mystery. "Why do you live in an Aerie?" She found herself blurting. "You told me you were hunter - Avora, not Endal. I see no eagle in this Aerie. Do you have a relative that is Endal?" Her eyes were cocked on him suspiciously. "You've...never mentioned much of this before." Her arms crossed under her breasts, weight shifted to one hip, eyes peered up at him expectantly. Their game of sexual cat and mouse was temporarily forgotten as this puzzle seized Ainyi's mind.

[Edric Wingard]

As he left the bathroom with a shyke-eating grin decorating his lips, the man casually strolled towards the center mat; a feeling of utter contentment settling into his bones. He stretched his arms languidly as he waited for Ainyi, his mind forcing his body to relax as it tensed and twitched with barely contained giddiness. Wingard would hardly consider himself a jokester, but her obvious challenge against his restraint could hardly have gone unanswered. After all, if one let moments like those get away once, it had the potential to become a common occurrence and what would that make him if he allowed such an advantageous position to arise? Grinning lightly again, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his bryda. Beyond the weak justification though, the childish pout of disappointment that had settled upon the Chiet’s lips when he had walked away had been absolutely delicious and he positively revelled in it. That downtrodden look had sent waves of pleasure through him that he had long forgotten on his journey to adulthood. Sure, what he did was rather adult-like, but it was done in good fun and for a moment, he felt young and carefree once again. Regardless of how she responded, he knew that he’d be incapable of dredging up any semblance of contrition for his behaviour.

It was a nice change that he was able to joke with her like he did. The eagle had forgotten what it was like to simply appreciate another’s presence without any pretense or indication for something more. That woman, for some reason, seemed to be able to get under his general apathy and unresponsive nature to initiate a sense of humour he hardly knew he possessed. It was intriguing and cumbersome in the same instant, and he wryly figured that these feelings mirrored his perspective of her. Ainyi did had a tendency to try his patience as her responses were often headstrong and led entirely by emotion; two traits that he did not find appealing whatsoever, but that passion and drive also had its moments of strength that impressed him. Even when he felt like her actions could hardly be justified, he understood her need to act on her feelings and figured that if that callousness was one of her worst qualities; she was overall, a stellar individual. Idly, he also thought about her new position as a second rider and assumed that if Turrin was a capable Endal, he would beat that idiocy out of her soon enough – unless he wanted her to die.

Cracking his neck, the eagle looked over his shoulder nonchalantly when he heard the somewhat bitter response of his companion. A sly smile slipped onto his lips subtly, quirking up one side of his mouth in a grin. He eyed her without embarrassment, but his golden orbs twinkled with obvious mirth at her attempt to even the playing field. The gooseflesh that was so evident upon her pale flesh drew a larger grin upon his face and it was only because of his iron-clad restraint that he refrained on commenting about it. Inwardly, he toyed with the idea of taking a stroll towards his door and opening it to allow a nice, refreshing, cool breeze in, but he figured he had tormented her enough for the day. As much as he would enjoy making her squirm, it wouldn’t be right if she ended up falling ill because of his twisted pervasions. As she neared and drew a delicate finger down her spine, the hunter fought an involuntary shiver that tripped down his spine.

Blinking slowly, he watched her from the corner of his eye. She seemed to be channeling a strong rush of confidence, he mused wryly, observing the little minx as she closed the distance between them. When her bare chest eliminated it, pressing tightly against his back, Wingard found himself freezing for a moment, a stunned look capturing his features. Partially glad that he was facing forward, he schooled his face into a stoic expression, blinking silently as he attempted to gather himself inwardly. Even though the naked body was hardly anything new or impressive to the Kelvic, there was a difference from simply looking at it and feeling it. Having a strange urge to cough his discomfort away, the man was still baffled over the fact that she had the gall to enter his space in such an intimate manner so shamelessly.

Determined not to lean backwards and give in to the obvious temptation she was presenting, Wingard stood resolutely straight, his spine resembling a rod of strength. He knew what game she was playing and it would be hypocritical of him to get annoyed at such a tantalizing play when he had most likely initiated the same feelings of frustration within her mere ticks prior. Gritting his teeth together, the eagle was silent as he gathered himself enough to figure out his next plan of action before his train of thought abruptly ended when she pulled away. Turning to face her as her departure from his personal space was somewhat sudden; he cocked his head to the side, questioningly. The look of suspicion that darkened her features confused the Avora and he was confused on what seemed to upset her so.

Rolling his shoulders backwards, he studied her defensive body language and spoke slowly, his tone even and deep, “I do not recall stating to you, Ainyi, that I was an Avora. If I recall anything, you assumed that merely because I am a hunter.”

Stopping there, he watched her and attempted to gauge her reaction. What he said was technically not a lie, but Wingard also knew that withholding information was hardly right either. In his eyes, however, she was the one that made the initial assumption and he had not found it pertinent to reaffirm or deny it as it really didn’t have a lasting hold on their relationship. Even now, he did not bother himself with answering her suspicion. The Kelvic enjoyed her ignorance over his race as it eliminated any expectations between the two of them over his ability to fly and bond. Although the eagle yearned to find his bond mate, he did not want such information to be widely known as he did not fully trust Ainyi enough to disclose it to her. If she were to find out and only stuck around because she hoped to become an Endal or higher caste, the rapture knew he would be crushed. Regardless of how he gave up superficial amenities to the Chiet, he was still a selfish creature and he refused to put himself into a vulnerable position merely to appease the insecurities of a single woman.

[Ainyi]

“I do not recall stating to you, Ainyi, that I was an Avora. If I recall anything, you assumed that merely because I am a hunter.”

The woman considered this statement carefully, her head cocked to the side and hands hugging her elbows. There was something off about it. The Chiet couldn't exactly say what it was but his body language, how he avoided the question of why he had an Aerie ... Ainyi felt he was hiding something, but what? Her near avian face tilted forward to examine him future, wet red sneak of hair slithering forward to rest next to her left breast, water trickling to her naval. Zulrav's winds send another punishing gust and she bit her lip to keep her teeth from chattering, feeling her bones ache in resistance.

Here, the Archer stood at a crossroads. She could pursue the questions, watch his posture wax defensive, hear his responses become more vague...and then there little game would be over. Where would the fun be in that? Wingard, unlike others, never flaunted his caste. He never held it over her, never made her feel worse for it. Or, she could let this go for now...and let him tell her in his own time. She remembered their time in the Processing Center, and how stalwart she was that she wouldn't simply be taken advantage of, or trust blindly. But this...she knew something wasn't right with this, but she also felt that whatever it was, it wasn't important here in this moment, in this place. She felt his resistance...and something in her wanted to eliminate it.

In plus, he was distracted right now. And when one defense was up...another was down.

"Yes; I'm sorry for the assumption," She apologized softly, voice low and smooth. "I'm sure wherever your gracious Eagle is at the moment, I wouldn't be worthy of it's presence." Her voice lilted as she felt the towel slip slightly, but went with it. She took a measured step towards him, the knot of the towel slipping a little further.

"Now then - where were we?" Ainyi asked coquettishly, the mischief returning to her eyes like a fire reigniting after the coals were left unattended for a little while. Her arms crossed under her breasts, pushing them together to augment their presence, playing with the end of her hair. She stepped closer again, the towel falling to reveal her first hip bone. "You know, when you met me in the Warrens, you made it clear I was too fragrant for your company." Another step, another hip bone. For how short her body was, Ainyi's legs looked long in how they seemed to slink out of the skirt that the towel made. "Well, now that I am decidedly less fragrant - , " she teased, closing the gap between them as the towel fell away entirely and pressed her torso entirely against his, craning her head to arrest his languid eyes with own.

" - What is it you planned on doing with me after exactly?"

A playful smile played across the woman's face as she ran her hands brazenly over his body, asking no permission as he asked none from her. She massaged his shoulder muscles gently, tracing down his lower back to feel his lower groin and abdomen muscles, maintaining her eyes with his for every touch, every whisper and scream of flesh against one another. She had some rather sick thoughts of what it the grains of the muscles were, and how one would have to cut them to preserve them properly, but she felt it wasn't right to share them - no. If she was to give retribution, it would be exact.

After a chime of body exploration, a breeze braised her buttocks, and the woman looked down at the towel with a raised eyebrow. Without a word, she lowered her body to grab the towel from where it fell, her hands trailing after her down his torso and inner legs. As her hands grabbed the towel, she stood in a reverse manner to how she lowered and played along way, bringing the towel around his neck with both hands and tying it off loosely.

"I mean, I can think of some things to do..." Ainyi admitted breathily, leaning a bit closer, her fingers grazing behind his ears and under his jaw, finding intimate crevices of his body overshadowed by the muscles of his torso or the intimidating mass of his shoulders. She met his eyes once again, letting him see a softness - perhaps, even a vulnerability, with an inch or two between them.

At least, before she withdrew her hands and flipped the towel over onto his head. "But most of them require clothes, so I'm going to check on mine," She said flatly, hopping off the tips off her toes to ruffle his hair over the towel. Happily, she bounced back around the corner to the bathroom to see if the clothes had dried; partially out of glee from her revenge, partially because it was petching cold.

[Edric Wingard]

Wingard had never felt guilty. Guilt, in his eyes, was a useless emotion that could be better replaced by something productive rather than self-pitying. When one felt guilty, they indulged in their own misery; resigning their poor, insignificant lives to little hiccups that most likely really weren’t that big of a deal in the long run. To say that those that took part in guilt fairly disgusted him, would be an accurate statement that he would certainly admit willingly out loud. This did not mean, however, that he never questioned his own decisions and contemplated that perhaps there may have been better alternatives to his actions. In this case now, as he watched the uncertainty flit across Ainyi’s face, the Kelvic silently wondered if he was making the correct decision.

Although Ainyi was overly ambitious and that ambition was both impressive and revolting, the eagle also knew that it was not the singular aspect of her that defined who she was as a person. Like the carpet that covered his floor, Ainyi was constructed by various characteristics or threads, both appealing and unappealing, that together, formed who she was. To judge her solely on aspects that he felt were distasteful would simply put him into the category of arrogance; a realm that he did not necessarily want to visit if he was not fully invested in. In addition, he knew that the woman before him who was chewing over his words critically was a good person – in all extents that such a generalization could cover. She was selfless in her demeanour and she did care about relationships, regardless of how she truly perceived herself as a cold, unyielding wall of indifference.

Yes, Wingard saw through that pitiful act she attempted to maintain in order to protect herself. Like a mask of glass, he watched as each word spoken cracked the false beauty; each indentation merging together to shatter the apathy that it personified. He relished in the destruction of her defenses; the eagle finding each tap of his figurative hammer delicious as he sent chills down her spine and initiated unknown emotions within her that even he could not identify. This newness, no this chase, called to the animalistic side of him that begged for a good hunt. Every tick that he got under her skin, exposing unfamiliar findings to himself was like a taste of the finest wine. He wanted to indulge in these feelings; he wanted to continue to chase this woman that made the hunt so easy and difficult all at the same time.

’She was so complicated,’ he mused, a slight grin pulling at his lips as he watched her shoulders relax with her decision to let the topic go. As she spoke self-deprecatingly about how she probably wasn’t worthy of his eagle, he inwardly laughed at such a notion. Oh, if she only knew the way that she unsettled his nerves, toying with his feelings and making him nearly incapable of logical thinking! The chit would understand the desire to devour her that existed within him; the animal within that he tamped down hard upon simply because he refused to be run by his emotions. Oh, if she simply knew then she would understand the grin that spilt forth onto his lips as he smiled seductively at her; his lids half-closed as those smouldering eyes hinted at the fire he was containing.

No, he would never feel guilt at hiding the truth from this woman. She would eventually find out as their time together continued to pass by, but it did not matter. When she uncovered his close-lipped state, he had hopes that they would be further along in their discovery of one another that such a revelation would not hinder their partnership; that their hunt would be so close to its climax that when she found out, it would have been too late for her to escape him anyway. Because after all, Wingard was nothing but an animal pretending to be a human.

Shifting his arms to accommodate her naked body as it pressed against him, the eagle let out a quiet growl of appreciation as she rubbed her lithe form against his own. Feeling her fingers skim over his exposed flesh, the eagle closed his eyes for a moment to revel in that touch. He knew what game they were still playing, and he understood that right now, all these actions were purely fueled by a need to win, but the Avora did not care. Just like she had leaned into his caresses, he planned on enjoying each little pet she gave him, utilizing the illusion of passion to make his own counterstrike. It was after all, becoming obvious that Ainyi had no qualms using obvious seduction against him, and it would simply be a shame if he did not return the favour. This was the chase, after all.

Grinning wolfishly as she bent over, the eagle settled his hands upon her exposed hips and pulled her backside against him; petting her flesh with delicate caresses that belied the strength in which he held her. As she rose, he allowed her to turn back to him, bending his head as she wrapped the towel around his head and tied it closed. Idly, he once again wondered if she had a kink fetish for pain and was planning on strangling him, but as she left it lose before him, he figured this was merely another step to leave him wanting more. He continued to smile as her explorative hands snaked up his neck to his jaw. Leaning into her touch, he turned his head slightly to kiss her fingertips; his lips light as they brushed against the sensitive nerves. As they began to stray towards his ear, he followed them deftly, capturing her index and middle finger in the moist cavern of his mouth. It was gentle, but his tongue lapped at them slightly, marking her with his saliva before he withdrew.

His eyes twinkled with mischief as she drew near to him; her whispered words playing havoc on his mind as he developed his next plan of action. Leaning forward so that his lips nearly brushed hers, he was about to speak when suddenly she pulled away. ’The damn chit!’

Fuming inwardly as she coyly scurried away, her laughter the only aspect of the wretched woman that was left, Wingard scowled darkly. Oh, she had played him a fool; repositioning herself farther ahead of him that it would take a giant plan to bring her close enough to capture once again. Cocking his head to the side, he attempted to think about his next move. How on earth was he going to defeat such a play? Untying the towel from around his neck, the Kelvic began following the infernal woman back into his baths; draping it upon a towel hook once he was inside. Turning back to her, he watched her openly as she checked her clothing; his gaze that of a predator. Cocking his head to the side, he watched as she tested the fabric he only imagined was damp. Considering that she probably scrubbed them after she bathed, he figured they would need a longer time to dry and he stated so out loud.

“Ainyi, if those aren’t dry, please don’t wear them. We wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”

Walking up to her, he drew a single, calloused finger over her high cheekbones. Tsk’ing as he noted the gooseflesh that was evident upon her skin, his fingers moved to tuck some stray locks behind her ear, throwing the rest of her hair behind her. It snapped against her back with an audible smack, but he paid no mind to it. The only part of the hunter that was touching her was his fingertips and as he leaned in, his lips joined them upon the shell of her ear. His voice was husky as he offered quietly, “I do not have many amenities, pet, but my bed is warm.”