A Slow March [Sigrun]

by **Ninus Aurellius** on February 28th, 2014, 6:35 am

The Prince of Rats

Ninus nodded. They might as well get to know one another. He saw how quickly she disguised being taken aback by his sexuality; he didn't fear her reaction as much as he did his male compatriots. "Thou hast a gentle soul. I apologize if I offended thee." he said as they walked. "Fairer sex means thou art of the female gender. Thy kind has...a certain gentility and beauty that men do not possess. I am lucky I can witness it as one witnesses a deer in the forest, without judgement or lust." he smiled encouragingly to her.

He walked in silence for a bit, watching Cricet rise from her nap with a large yawn. She showed her teeth and stretched like a cat, whuffing a sigh. He smiled at her and watched her trundle idly down the horse's back to wash her face and blink in the cold air at the sun. "Morning, my lady." Ninus told her as she washed behind her ears with quickly licked paws.

Cricet looked at him boredly and went to go forage through the supplies for a biscuit, which she settled down and nibbled on placidly. Ninus knew she wouldn't eat their supplies...she had waited fairly for her dinner when they had lived in Syliras, or stolen it from inattentive merchants in the market. Ninus looked to Sigrun, and saw how uncomfortable she was. He gently tugged on the horse to stop him and gently reached out to grasp Jack's reins.

"Thy hips and spine are protesting against thee. Come, walk." Ninus chuckled. "Thou hast been riding for many candlemarks. Besides, thy companion has known me by touch and scent, it is time he begins to know thee truly." He nodded to the Zavian. He held out a hand to help her down from Jack. She would be walking badly for a few hours with her thigh muscles stretched so, but Ninus had already decided to ride sidesaddle and try and spare himself some of the ache. By the end of the trip, both of them would be accustomed to riding, but it was breaking in the thigh muscles that hurt so badly.

When they were settled again, with Ninus riding Jack side saddle and the Zavian firmly in Sigrun's hand, the poisoner clicked to the old warhorse to get them moving again. He hummed quietly, thinking of his mother and father. Cut down cruelly, just for existing outside of Syliras. Damned knights...but they were omniscient somehow. Like gods. Overpowered. Ninus hated them with every breath he took, and somehow humming the song the highwaymen had written about his mother and father helped with the catharsis.

by **Sigrun Dominic** on March 26th, 2014, 4:54 pm

"Thou hast a gentle soul. I apologize if I offended thee."

Sigrun turned to him and smiled, though her eyes revealed much of her discomfort as it grew beneath her clothing, along her thighs and across her back.

"No offence taken," she nodded warmly. The young man had been nothing but kind to her, and never once had he indicated to her that he was one whom she could not trust. Luckily her impulsivity was to her favour at this time.

"Fairer sex means thou art of the female gender. Thy kind has... a certain gentility and beauty that men do not possess. I am lucky I can witness it as one witnesses a deer in the forest, without judgement or lust."

Judgement or lust. Sigrun watched the sky and wondered where she might find someone who would find a dear and judge it or lust for it. The thought made her laugh.

Sigrun watched the road idly, her mind going far as she wondered what Sunberth would be like. Ninus had said it would be lawless and terrible, and yet he was interested in traveling to it. She could hear a biscuit being nibbled on by sharp, little teeth while she pondered fondly upon what she could do at the city. Lawless? Perhaps her opportunities will be boundless.

Or limited. Who knows what they would do to a little blonde woman who hasn't yet killed a man.

What was so important about first bloodshed? The young blonde watched the reins and her sore fingers. She had never once thought of killing a man, only of defending herself and her dignity. There had never been an instance where she had wanted another to lose his or her life, only for her to keep her own. Perhaps it was that thought that limited all other men from drawing in their first slaughter.

Do or die, she thought coldly, do or die.

"Thy hips and spine are protesting against thee. Come, walk," the dark-haired man chuckled, as he paused both horses and urged her to come down. Sigrun eyed him carefully, surprised that she had revealed much of her discomfort.

"Thou hast been riding for many candlemarks. Besides, thy companion has known me by touch and scent, it is time he begins to know thee truly."

Nodding, she silently allowed herself to be guided off of Ninus' stocky old horse and be led towards her Zavian. The stallion grunted softly as she placed a palm upon his neck and held his lead. Sigrun winced, aquamarine eyes watching the horizon as she struggled with the ache in her thighs that sustained even as she walked freely.

Petch, she thought with a bite of her lip. It would be a while before they would find themselves at the first traveler's cabin.

Much, much later...

Luckily the sun was only beginning to set when they had found it. The cabin was slightly run down but was otherwise suitable for them to rest at for the night. It would be best that they have a good night's rest before traveling the next day.

Inside, the cabin had a stiff, small cot covered in thinning furs and hard pillows, while the hearth had been left with ashen rubble. Beside the hearth was a stinking cast iron pot and a long wooden table covered in dust and leftover bits of things that the blonde could not name nor place. The windows were frosted but intact, while the planks that covered the wooden floors were nothing more than creaky. Clearly, the place had been used often and well-kept by both travellers and knights alike, but not quite enough, it seemed.

Sigrun unloaded all of her goods upon the wooden table and made an attempt at starting a flame within the hearth using the little firewood available to them from the stash within the cabin. Luckily, she had been able to set a fire ablaze before passing out on the bed, sore and exhausted, leaving the horses and the wagon for Ninus to deal with.

By the time Sigrun roused it was late in the morning. The sun was up in the sky and revealed itself through the frosted windows. The hearth was cold, the table was half empty.

Half empty. It registered quickly in the young blonde's mind. Her pound of walnuts and her carrots had gone, and so had her green beans. Her chest of things had been left untouched. After inspecting the contents she ran outside to find her wagon in place and her horse safe and sound, still tied upon the post. She could not say the same for Ninus, his horse Jack, and his fat rat.

That petching piece of shyke, she exhaled heavily, eyes staring upon the vacancy on the road with a sinking feeling that was closer to loneliness rather than betrayal. She felt no anger for his small theft, but more sadness for his abandoning of her.

Why had he done it? She rushed back inside and found a little yellowing slip of parchment tucked beneath her sack of apples, which she had missed previously. She pulled out the note and unfolded it.

I apologise for departing without notice, my lady, but I simply had to. I cannot explain this to you today, but perhaps if we meet again, I can assure you that on another day, I will. May whoever God watches over you give you his or her blessing, as I do.

And what deity watched over her? Was there a higher power eyeing her right now, prepared to bless her? Was there something in it for her, at this very moment, that she had lost not only things that she had purchased with good money, but also an arguably reputable companion? How was she supposed to attend to her thirst for adventure now?

What she had with her was nowhere near enough to continue on the journey. Her being alone was nowhere near enough either. She needed company. She wanted company. Sigrun discarded the note into the ashen rubble in the hearth, even when she knew it would do nothing. She was disappointed in Ninus, and hoped it was all a joke and that he would come back, but even after she had put the remainder of her things in her wagon and climbed onto her Zavian, there was no sign of him.

After many bells of waiting, ignoring stubbornly the ache that grew within her thighs once more, the road remained the same: absent of his presence.

Someday, she told herself, you'll tell me why.

When that day comes, I will either hold you in my arms in a warm embrace, or cut out your throat with my cutlass.

She turned her Zavian around and made her way back to Syliras, where she was sure she would be again stuck in the Traveler's Row again, unsure of what to do with herself. She could sell back the horse, and her other things, or perhaps keep him stabled at the Windmount stables while she figures out what to do. Whatever the case, she was certain it would be a bit of a while before she would be able to rise again from this.

Hopefully by then, you won't be the first man I'll ever kill.

The thought brought fear to her bones. She feared inflicting death upon another, but at the same time, she yearned for it. A first kill, an escape from the terror of being in control of another person's life; a way to be deserving of her sword.

Down the road she petted her Zavian fondly, quietly pitying him for having to trot in the cold and the snow for no reason. The horse whinnied softly.

"Don't you worry," she murmured, running her fingers through his mane, "I will give you purpose."

I will give you destination, she added silently.

"Julien."

by **Radiant** on April 11th, 2014, 4:42 pm

Sigrun :

Notes :

My radiance is not bright enough?

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, beam me a PM and we can work it out.

Skill	XP Earned
Observation	+2 XP
Socialization	+2 XP
Rhetoric	+1 XP
Riding: Horse	+3 XP
Planning	+1 XP
Storytelling	+1 XP

Completed A Slow March [Sigrun]