PM to join Accidental Lessons [Vanator]

[Reven Heath]

Reven Heath ☼ 50th Day of Winter, 513 A.V.

Loud panting filled the air as hot, moist breath puffed out like a gale of fog. Her hearing picked up the crunch of grass, ice, and twigs underneath her paws while they hammered away against the soil noisily. The mid-morning air had a crisp, strong sense of winter, one that she could smell, taste, and touch all by the giant heaves of air pushing into and out of her mouth. It was a rhythm, one subconsciously ticking in the back of her brain, giving her mental clue as to how far she'd run, where her marks were, who or what was in her territory, and any game that might be near. Reven wanted game.

She had started out early, silently moving up the Kabrin Road toward the Sanctuary before veering off to the right of the road. There was a vast, barren plain that lay just before the forest and Reven had come to mark this as a second home. For the winter she had ventured here often in search of food. Because of the season, her luck at catching anything was slim to none. Fishing was out of the question as well and a profession she possibly loathed. Reven didn't like being wet, drenched, soaked to the bone— you name it, and this was not a habit brought on by her instincts. It was simply because she didn't care for the skin rashes that would start up after her clothes had dried. If she had her way, she would rather be naked every time she was close to water. Maybe that would change her frame of mind for it.

Needless to say, she needed some coin and quick. Unfortunately, this was her only means at achieving any income and quite frankly, her aim on the bow was less than accurate. So Reven tried hunting for small animals in her feline form but the chances of her killing anything while still keeping its skin in tact where few and far between. There were some good days but mostly a bunch of not so good days.

The young Kelvic slid to a halt having just launched off a rotted, fallen tree trunk. Her paws pressed into tan-brown grass as her nails sank deep into the soil. Landing placed her body in a crouched position which she slowly relaxed from, remaining silent and still. Alarms went of in her mind, alerting her to a new scent coming up wind. She had strayed quite a distance from the road and knew the scent floating on the wind was that of a human being. Her protruding brow furrowed into thick, heavy lines while a low growl echoed from the very pit of her being. Reven didn't like catching scents such as this one. She understood hunters were out and about trying to hunt food like she was but most of them strayed into the woods a few miles away from where her territory was.

Slowly, very slowly, her paws crept forward toward the scent. Her growling ceased. She needed to remain silent if she had a potential threat after her and even then, what would she do? She knew what she wanted to do, what her instincts screamed for her to do, but would that be enough to fight someone off and live? Her bow and arrows, her knives, and her clothing were all at least a mile from her as well. Reven pressed on even with these thoughts clouding her mind and before long, she had reached the area the scent originated from. Crouching low, she stalked noiselessly closer, inch by inch, silent... Quiet...

Her breathing paused... Low, soft...

Hazel eyes wide, peering over the grass that hid her form...

Ears up, listening to every sound that came from the direction of the scent.

She could see movement a few yards from where she lay hidden and perked up over the grass just a bit more to catch a mane of light hair. Leaning forward into the grass, Reven moved her paws onward, wanting to investigate the being. It appeared to be another one of those not so good day because just as she moved forward, several twigs snapped loudly under her weight, giving away her location.

[Vanator]

Vanator had taken to forays into the Fringe Forest since Winter fell. the grasslander had become familiar with the once strange terrain, and often found relaxation beneath the tall trunks of the trees and the variety of birds and wildlife present. Hunting was often part of his outings, small game mostly. It was a skill he wished to hone, one that could only benefit his family and the Sanctuary, if time of need arose.

So, with bow and quiver, Vanator ventured away from Sanctuary on foot, turning into the woods near a meadow. He did not wear his chainmail armor, too heavy and noisy to hunt. Instead, he had worn a leather chest plate from the armory. His battle axe, too, was left behind, too bulky for the task at hand. Instead, a dagger and two Isurian hand axes were thrust through his belt. A small pack with gear was strapped to his back.

The Drykas had stalked through the forest with patient care, practicing stealth, though he had yet to see any quarry. Foot placement was carefully made to avoid twigs or crunchy leaves. He crouched slightly, sticking close to fallen logs and nearby trunks to help keep him concealed. There was nothing he could do about his scent, though he tried to move into the wind, to keep his scent from drifting out ahead of him.

The bow remained ready in his hand, an arrow set to the string and fingers on the nock, but the string remained undrawn. Gold-flecked hazel eyes studied the terrain with astute attention. Earlier, he had found a patch of bare earth with a large paw print in it. He was not skilled enough to determine the species that left it, or how recently the imprint was made. Feline he thought. Not as large as the lions out in the Sea of Grass, but large enough to warrant dilligence.

He had just taken a step and paused to listen. Then he heard the distinct snap of twigs close by. Very close by. His head turned slowly in the direction of the noise, keen eyes peering through the trees. He thought he saw a glimpse of tawny fur, the shape unclear in the broken landscape, but its size was larger than Vanator had wished.

The muscles in his arms tightened, ready to raise and draw the bow if necessary. He turned towards the sound and padded slowly closer. "Who are you, hiding in there?" He muttered to himself.

[Reven Heath]

Reven Heath ☼ 23rd Day of Winter, 513 A.V.

Regret was one of the first of many emotions to worm its way into her mind. Each thought cascaded into another while each emotion blended into a fiery ball of hot rage ready to explode on the being in front of her. It was hard to remember patience when so much of her was crying to leap out and pin the threat to the ground. She knew it was an unwise call though and would likely get herself killed in the process. So the Kelvic waited to see what exactly the stranger would do. Would they walk away? Did they notice her mistake?

Curses echoed against the walls of her mind as soft footsteps approached the area concealing her brown and chestnut speckled fur. A small part of her consciousness wanted to tuck tail and run, crawl away and hide till they left, but the larger, more dominant part refused. It squashed away any ideas of cowardly escape with a simple fact.

'This is my territory...'

The pupils of her eyes dilated as the man finally stepped into view. Reven observed his stance, readied and tense, looking for the source of the noise. A bow held in one hand with an arrow nocked, ready to fire at the first sign of combat. His appearance was familiar, as if she had seen him wandering the city before but she couldn't be sure and in this day and age, she would rather kill first then ask questions later if it meant defending herself.

The large feline attempted to lean back but that was not an option either. It was as if she had fallen into a patch of twigs purposely set there to make her day a living nightmare. Reven was stuck with only one choice which generated quite a few different outcomes. He was coming closer to her now with the bow in hand and knew this was her last opportunity to reconsider. Of course, she did not, and with her back paws pressed into the ground, Reven launched from the comfort of her hiding place towards the man.

Her goal was to disarm him because it was the bow that worried her about the situation. If she could catch him off guard and knock it from his hands, then there was a possibility both would leave there alive. If not, the young Kelvic made one of the worst mistakes of her life...

Which wasn't too surprising.

Reven looked like a very large mountain lion and frankly, she was surprised that she hadn't met with an arrow to the head yet. Hardly anyone had the chance to confront her cougar form and because of this, she didn't realize how human looking her eyes were. They were steady like a cat's but very round and moved about in the same manner as a human's. Upon closer inspection, this small detail was very capable of revealing her true nature.

[Vanator]

There was a movement of the creature, whatever it was, for Vanator saw the ash-toned hide move, and the sound of crackling twigs were clearly audible. The Drykas paused, doubting the wisdom of his approach. Instinct told him to raise the bow, be ready. He had always been cautious, especially with the care of his family. But in recent seasons, he had taken more chances, some of it driven by personal vendettas, such as the attacks on the Zith, others seemed to be just a restlessness for the lively, and dangerous, life he had once lead in the Sea of Grass.

Regardless, the urge to raise the bow came too late. Suddenly, the beast erupted from its hiding place, and Vanator gasp wide-eyed, back peddling. It was a sort of lion, different than the ones he was used to. It was larger than he had anticipated by the tracks, or maybe it just seemed so as it leaped on him. The bowstring was released half-draw, the arrow sailing away, the head barely grazing the lion's shoulder. The weight and momentum of the animal was more than enough to knock Vanator to the ground, leaving the creature to stand over him.

One hand slid out the dagger from his belt, the only weapon he could employ at such close quarters. The other hand raised, palm out, ready to summon the other weapon available, res to make fire. But before he could call up his djed, or shove the blade between the lion's ribs, Vanator noted a curiosity. The beast was not flaying him alive with claw and fang. It stood over him, looking down. She was a noble creature, he admitted. Strong of muscle, with ivory teeth like daggers and...the eyes.

They were hazel, and unexpected. There was intelligence behind them. Lions were a smart lot, predators usually were. But those eyes possessed understanding, and looked at him with more perception than whether he was food or enemy. They were almost human.

Why wasn't she trying to kill him? The dagger and open hand remained ready, but Vanator refused to wound her. There was something special about her, and he believed if he stayed his hand, it would be revealed to him.

[Reven Heath]

Reven Heath ☼ 23rd Day of Winter, 513 A.V.

Within seconds the cougar found herself atop the man, paws pressed firmly into his chest to keep him pinned in place. Her head was bent with lips curled back in a vicious growl in hopes of intimidating him the same way she did smaller animals. Hazel eyes beaded with blazing green, shifted over his facial features to study his expression.

It was evident the human was caught off guard. Pouncing on him had been a successful trick and if she wasn't too busy freaking out about his presence, Reven would feel proud of herself for her technique. Instead, she was focused hard on the man, trying to find what his true intentions were through his eyes. It was a failed attempt because all she saw was the same barrier looking back at her, as if she was staring into a kind of mirror.

That didn't help. Who was this man and why was he here? Reven couldn't remember the last time she saw someone this far out from the road. She wished she could find this information out but she couldn't risk shifting and giving him the opportunity to attack her. She could tell he was a serious threat and even though his features were handsome, Reven saw that he carried himself as a warrior, whether he meant to or not.

Eyes still trained on him, the cougar noticed something glinting in the sunlight underneath her and felt the sharp edge of a blade scrape lightly against the fur of her ribs. In that moment, regret was once more pumping through her veins. She should have known he would have other weapons. Why did she not think about this?

Hot breath pushed out of her mouth in an angry, defeated snarl before turning slowly and hopping off of him. Her head circled around, watching the knife, inspecting his form, looking to see if there was any other weapon on him she could remove. Approaching him again, the Kelvic slowly made a move of her head, gesturing for the knife to be thrown before she would consider interrogating him.

For a period of time, Reven watched him, judging whether she should walk away and leave him to stay within her territory or maul him before he had a chance to do the same to her. Unfortunately, her curiosity was starting to get the best of her and before she knew it, the Kelvic felt cold air against her bare flesh as she swapped into her human form. When the soft lights faded, her eyes still glared accusingly at the man. There was a noticeable line of blood running from the top of her shoulder down to her elbow as well, but she did not let the pain of it show on her features. She was already having a hard time smothering the fear away.

"Who are you..?" After a pause, her voice rose. "What are you doing here? What do you want?"

If a bystander had been present to witness the situation, one would find it quite humorous. As frightening as she appeared to be in animal form, her human form was laughable in comparison. Reven's youth reflected so much in her stance and attitude, it was difficult to present herself as the age she looked. Even so, she pressed on, ready to get physical if need be.

"Move and you'll regret you did..."

[Vanator]

Vanator found he was holding his breath, his adrenaline pumping through his system, heightening every nerve. The lioness hovered over him, a menacing snarl revealing terrible fangs, her hot breath blowing against the cool of his face. She was magnificent. More than anything, he didn't want to have to drive the blade between her ribs, or burn her head with a firebolt. A long, dangerous moment lingered as the life of both beings were held in the hand of the other. Then, with a resigned huff, the beast stepped away.

Van got to his feet, slowly, eying the large cat as she eyed him. Again, those hazel eyes stared back at him with intelligence. She was indeed a fine specimen. Only a bit smaller than grassland lions, she was leaner, her corded muscles evident beneath her tawny hide. Her movements spoke of fluid agility, a creatures that could climb trees, traverse rocky terrain. She must have come from the lands to the north, Sylira, or even Taldera. The Drykas had never seen one like her.

An all too human shift of her head indicated that his weapon should be cast away. She had to be Kelvic, no animal could master such a communication. Show yourself, beautiful. He thought to himself. Vanator did toss the dagger aside. The hand ax remained in his belt, but he kept his hands lifted, open, and away from the weapon.

Then it happened. The familiar swirling of pinpoint lights that he had seen so many times before, the shifting of a Kelvic. When the scintillation ended, she stood before him in her human form. The lion girl postured before him defiantly. Her nude form was tall, as tall as he was, her limbs lean and muscled. Her mane of hair shifted loosely in the slight wind, framing a youthful face with features that were both attractive and feral. There was a trace of crimson tricking from her shoulder, where he had nicked her. That certainly added to the lion's irritation with him. The lioness' human appearance was of a woman in her late teens. Mao had been the only other large Kelvic cat Vanator had known, but he guess this girl to be two to three years old.

Though she no longer bore the razor claws and giant fangs of her natural shape, the hazel eyes still stared menacingly back at him. Canines that were still elongated flashed when she made her demands of the stranger.

"You have nothing to fear from me. I am just hunting small game. I am from the Sanctuary up the road, maybe you have heard of it? We treat animals and Kelvics there. My name is Vanator Denusk. If you let me, I can tend to that cut." He did not move, his head only nodding slightly at her wound.

[Reven Heath]

Reven Heath ☼ 23rd Day of Winter, 513 A.V.

Now that he had disarmed himself, from what she could tell, Reven relaxed enough to analyze his features. The cougar knew from behind he looked fairly decent and up front, his eyes were captivating. Though, looking upon him now, Reven was taken back by his handsome complexion and virile, strong demeanor. She noticed his shoulders, the way his muscles tensed slightly as he held his hands up, his collar bone stiff and shadowed, emphasizing his neck and jawline till her hazel eyes landed on his.

His lips moved but Reven hardly noticed the motion or the sounds that followed. She tilted her head while trying to focus on his words but the Kelvic couldn't hear them over the quickening of her heart. What was this? A new found emotion bled into her body causing her eyes to widen with fright but also a sort of thrilling sensation. It was so new, freeing, and comfortable that it almost felt natural. Like this was something that happened to everyone. But nothing she had come across in her short life made her feel anything like this.

Without realizing it, her hand grasped at her chest as if it pained her, pressing up against the racing organ that threatened to collapse her. She took a breath, obviously bothered by the situation and turned her eyes to the stinging on her arm.

"Oh..." Reven responded, dazed.

It helped to take her eyes off him... Why was she even gawking at him in the first place? It was time to go but... could she leave him there? It was her territory and he had ventured far to be found within it. She needed him to know not to come back but should she help him back to the road? He found the place himself, he could leave it himself and what if he attacked her?.. Then again, he laid down his weapons when he had the chance to kill her, maybe she should return the mercy.

The battle inside her occupied most of her focus and before the Kelvic even realized it, several moments had past with her now staring blatantly at his torso. Puzzled, Reven spoke up, a gentle touch in her words even as firm as they sounded coming from her. "You won't find much of anything here, especially this far out from the road. Most of the game is caught and killed..."

There was an obvious lack of menace in her voice from just moments before yet her concern was still evident. "I've heard of the Sanctuary and their hospitality... Even if you are who you say you are, how can I trust you? You've come far for game. Further than anyone else has..." Her eyes connected with his as the urge to relax became overwhelmingly apparent. Was this some kind of trick?

Maybe it was the arrow that had nicked her. Was it poisoned? Her arm was numb from the cold, winter wind so much that Reven couldn't tell from the redness of the cut if she was truly in danger. They were, however, far from the road and Reven shuttered to think of the dirt that would infect it once she shifted to her previous form. If he could assist her with the infliction, then the Lioness would most certainly take the help.

But how could she trust him?

She couldn't stay very much longer in this form. Her bare body was beginning to shiver even as Reven fought against it. Decisions had to be made but with her stubbornness, she would likely freeze to death before choosing to stay or leave him.

[Vanator]

Though she wore the form of a young woman, naked and unarmed, the Kelvic's posture, the set of her hazel gaze, the wary movement of lean muscled limbs were that of a predator. Vanator did catch a curious emotion wash over the feral beauty of her youthful countenance, the widening of her gaze, the press of a slender hand against her chest, the distraction in her voice. There was something she did not expect. What it was the Drykas could not discern.

The cougar glanced at the minor wound he had caused, with little concern. She finally spoke, commenting on the scarcity of game, and of mistrust. "You are wise not to place trust too easily in a stranger. I am originally from the grasslands, and traveling far is not uncommon for me. I enjoy exploring the woods, they are still new to me." Vanator's tone was subdued, non-threatening, his movement measured as well. He removed his bow, quiver and pack, then unclasped his cloak. He approached the Kelvic, slowly. The girl's bare flesh was beginning to take on a blue cast, goosebumps rising along the contours of her skin. "It is too cold for you to be without clothes or your fur. I promise not to hurt you, I just want to look at that cut." He carefully placed the cloak around the tall girl's shoulders. He was accustomed to a Kelvic's lack of modesty, so made nothing of her nakedness. He did observe her lean, solid body at that close proximity, appreciating the subtle curves of a fit physique on the verge of womanhood. But Van knew well enough not to allow the seemingly helpless state of the stranger to lull him into carelessness. In just a few ticks, the girl could shift again into the giant northern cat.

Returning to his pack, Vanator dug out a pouch, taking a small, clean cloth from it, he poured some water on it and turned to the Kelvic. If she allowed, he would slide the cloak off of her injured shoulder, gingerly clean the cut, wiping the blood from her skin. "It's not deep, no need to be stitched I believe." Another trip to the pack and Van was back with a small container. "This ointment will keep the wound clean and take out the sting. My sister makes it. She is the head healer." Van looked again into the animal-intense gaze of the lion girl, offering her a smile.

[Reven Heath]

Reven Heath ☼ 23rd Day of Winter, 513 A.V.

Befuddled with the new found emotions brought on by the man, Vanator, Reven found it hard to focus on his explanation. "And you explore alone? By yourself?" She retorted while still trying to make up for her lapse of control. "These are dangerous areas to travel into alone." Reven watched him, tested him, analyzed every movement of his eyes, his brow, the curve of his cheeks, his lips. She deciphered him every way she could to find fault in his impression but when it came down to it, the Kelvic couldn't tell if he was truly being honest.

Taking in the scents on the wind, it only confirmed Vanator's word that he was truly alone. This blatant fact roused even more questions about him. Reven knew how crazy she was to venture out each day into the wild, she knew the consequences that she might never return back to her lumpy bed in Riverfall. It was an ultimatum she accepted to survive and the irony of it was not lost to her: either she fears death and stays cooped up in the city, or accept that her end will come someday and venture out to hunt and make a living. Was this something others had to accept as well and if so, had he come to that same conclusion? Is that why she found him out so far from the city?

She was pulled out of her thoughts when the Lioness felt soft fabric caress her skin. Reven flinched, surprised at the sudden proximity of the stranger and held her hands up to push him away. His words were calming, reassuring, and when he spoke to her, Reven had the sense to trust him. Instead of pushing Vanator away, she simply tucked her fingers into the cloak to pull it closer and mumbled a quiet 'thank you'. The cloak was warm, heating her skin up even as the arctic wind insisted on finding every opening it could to chill her body.

"I'm okay, it was just a scratch..." He had approached his pack even though Reven protested otherwise. "You really don't have to..!" The Kelvic called to him but she guessed he had not heard her because in just a few short moments, he was back at her side with a cloth.

"Why are you helping me?" The question blurted out of her mouth while Vanator scrubbed lightly at the cut on her arm. There was blood and dirt coating the flesh around the wound and stung when the man wiped it away. "I know it could have been deeper, right? I saw how you handled that bow. You're good at shooting, aren't you?" Reven followed him back to his pack, questioning him the entire way till her words were paused by the soft sting of the ointment applied to her cut. Wincing, the cougar took a look at her arm. The dirt and blood had both disappeared leaving only the growing numbness of the cut.

"Thank you... It feels much better." Turning her eyes up to him, Reven tilted her head with curiosity. "Your sister?.. Is that Kavala? I know of her, she's helped me before. I suppose it runs in the family then, heh. Helping others, I mean. Ehm." Her crack at a joke failed miserably as silence enveloped the two. Reven could kick herself for her awkwardness.

"I'm sorry... I'm not really use to talking to people. I mean—not that I don't, because I do. It's just so suffocating in the city and hardly anyone comes out to the wilderness—" Again, she paused and ran a hand through her tangled hair. "I... don't usually talk this much?" Her words came off more as a question than a statement. It was obvious Reven was disturbed by this realization. It was so unlike her to be running her mouth off.

Hazel eyes glanced upon the short bow settled innocently against his pack. "Do you shoot often?"

[Vanator]

The feral beauty was not convinced yet of the Drykas' good intentions, as Vanator could see from her probing gaze, as if the Kelvic sought for his own countenance to betray some untruth. Vanator remained calm, his concern that the lion girl would turn on him fading. "Yes, I explore, alone. Not always, but on occasion. I understand very well the dangers out here. I have survived thirty-nine years out here. Only in the past year have I slept behind stone walls. I grow restless behind walls. Sometimes, there is an oppression in safety. Outside of walls, one's grit it tested, the body and mind challenged, driven to remain sharp by the greatest motivator, survival."

As Van tended to the Kelvic's wounds, she seemed to relax, allowing the wary predator to give way to a more human social side. The Drykas let her speak as he worked. The girl seemed to need to voice her thoughts, as if she were oiling a gear that had not be employed in some time. When he had finished with the small wound, Van returned to his pack and tugged out a garment. He looked up at the Kelvic and tossed it to her. It was a simple tunic, but would be large enough to fall to her mid-thigh. "You can put that on if you like, and keep hold of the cloak. Don't want you turning blue on me!" Van too took a crack at a joke, hoping to continue to disarm the woman's concerns.

Van stood, not bothering to turn his head if the girl decided to don the tunic. He knew he didn't need to practice modesty for her sake, and it gave him time to study her form more thoroughly. As expected, her smooth flesh was marred by several small scars. Living in the wild meant thorns, sharp rocks, and encounters with teeth and claw. Her scars were a testimony to survival, and therefore, fitting for the lioness. He continued to answer her questions.

"Yes, Kavala is my half-sister, but no full-blooded sister could be closer or more loved than she. She is very caring, which is why I am sure she helped you. She can't seem to help it! I am sure it has rubbed off on me, maybe that is why I am helping you." The Drykas man gave the Kelvic a warm smile. He was excited to have met this stranger, so far out and alone. Vanator was one who understood Kelvics, understood what made them special. He intended to befriend this one, if she would have it.

"As for the bow," He reached down to pick up the recurve bow, "It is not really the weapon I am best at, but I think it is important that I keep up on it, it has come in very handy." Taking up the waterskin, Van returned to the Kelvic's side, holding out the skin in an offering of a drink.

"Now, I have answered some questions, I have one for you, to start. What should I call you?"