[Wind Reach]When the Tables Turn [Private-Haya]

[Kovac]

Timestamp: 29th of Fall, 510AV Status: Private, Tag Haya Kovac strolled down the Inner Warren corridor, in a reasonably good mood, or as good a mood as the half-blooded Inarta could muster. He had the morning off, finding a quiet space near the lakes to play his lute and work on composing some new pieces. The man had acquired a muse in Shayth, one that stirred him to write music of a particularly passionate and edgy nature. After depositing his instrument and music in his room, the Avora made his way to the kitchens for a midday meal. The appearance of several Riders ahead compelled him to change course, swerving down a smaller side hall. It was not that Kovac was afraid of the Endal, he just was not in the mind to deal with their thinly veiled taunts today. Slowing his pace, the archer glanced down cross halls to find his way back towards the kitchens. Glancing down one particular hallway, he heard the sound of children, and a familiar voice. Turning, he eased closer, dodging two carrot-topped toddlers racing across the corridor from one room to the next. He heard the woman's voice again, ringing with a scolding tone. It was Haya's. Leaning around an opening to a large room teeming with children, Kovac saw the Drudge, her lontev stained and wet in a few spots. a mop leaned against a wall nearby. The Dek was shaking her finger at a somewhat older boy who sported a mowhawk and a smug grin. For some reason, the sight amused Kovac, who edged closer, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, grinning wryly at the interaction.

[Haya]

It was not her place to reprimand the children, Haya knew that all too well, but this kid’s sly, smug, self-complacent smile was just incredibly infuriating!
He’d done it again, this time being as bold as to not even try to hide the fact he was the culprit. No, he seemed outright proud of his ‘accomplishment’.
Haya dropped her reprimanding hand with a distressed groan, turning away from the kid with a sour expression. The boy had already reached that age where they weren’t impressed by the likes of her anymore, being older or not. A drudge was a drudge, and once that concept was understood by the youngsters it was useless trying to tell them off.

Haya hopped, on one foot, towards the wall with the mop, feeling rather ridiculous. But with the current absence of her cane, what else was she supposed to do? The drudge grabbed the mob with a firm, angry movement, trying to use it as a substitute for her cane. What had the kid said? ‘The usual place.’ Snotty brat. How many times had he done this now? Seven? Eight? Haya scowled.

Too bad, as she moved towards the warrens the mop turned out to be rather useless as support. Maybe it was better to just hop all the way. Like before. Like a stupid, lame idiot.
Having had her eyes focus on the floor all this time, Haya was rather surprised to see a pair of feet come into vision. More surprise colored her face, however, when her eyes locked with the owner of said feet. She was silent for a moment, balancing, feeling ultimately stupid and ultimately unprepared. But then she composed herself, throwing the familiar archer her most grim, sarcastic smile. ‘Hi.’

[Kovac]

Kovac watched Haya grimace in exasperation as she turned from the snotty child and hopped to the mop. His grin faded as she leaned uneasily on the mop, a poor substiute for her familiar cane. The Drudge struggled to make her way out of the room with the makeshift crutch, her face twisted with frustration. A season ago, he may have laughed at the sight of a dirty drudge hobbling around lamely. But, to Kovac, Haya was no longer a nameless, soulless Dek. Circumstances had forced him to become acquainted with her. She had taken his barbed words, even his abuse, and managed to show tolerance and even compassion on the unfriendly Avora. Kovac did not like to think the best of people, more comfortable finding a flaw or a stereotype that would give him reason to disdain them, and hence, avoid them. The cynical Avora had so far found no fault in the young disheveled woman that he could exploit, no reason to think her inferior, despite her social standing. Now, knowing her as a person, an intelligent and amiable person, Kovac discovered he could no longer look down on her. Haya had earned his respect. She knew what he was, and seemed to accept him anyway. It puzzled Kovac. Very few in Wind Reach offered such inclusion to the cantankerous archer. Haya, of all people, had reason to shun him. Kovac then realized what it was about her that was so disarming. She was real. She was down to earth and without guise. And she was one of the few people he didn't minded being around. That, however, would not spare her from his sarcasm. He noted Haya's hasty recovering from the surprise of his appearance, quickly covered by her sardonic grin. "I see you have found multiple uses for your mop. It doesn't seem to be working out too well for you. What happened to your cane?" Kovac's question was marked by a wry grin, but his tone hinted at the sincerity of his inquiry.

[Haya]

Oh, there it was, that familiar grin curving the half-blood’s lips. Had not changed a bit, Haya noticed. Well, it had only been a season since she’d last seen his face, so it shouldn’t be a surprise. His presence however, was.

The drudge knew what Kovac’s question would be, even before he asked it. It was after all painfully obvious, was it not? “Ah, my cane…” Haya avoided the man’s gaze, seemingly talking to the wall instead of the archer. “At this moment it is most probably enjoying the view, somewhere near the Edge of the World.” She shrugged her shoulders like it didn’t matter all that much. “Lately, I find it there more and more often.”

Haya did not enjoy this particular topic, already feeling enough like a fool, so she was quick to revert the attention back to the archer himself. Suddenly she did focus at the man in front of her, eyes narrowing a bit and one hand sliding up to rest upon her hip. “But I do not know what appears stranger. That, or finding you down here?”

[Kovac]

Kovac realized Haya's distaste for revealing the rather ridiculous location of her cane, and her unexpected answer caused his eyebrows to raise. But the Dek, as usual, deftly steered the conversation away from her dilemma and back to him and his sudden appearance. "Me, well..." He wasn't going to mention that he was avoiding Endal, "...I had just chosen to explore a new route to the Kitchens and stumbled across this delightful little place. I heard your rather stern voice and had to see what you were up to!" His grin remained, his hands moving to rest on his hips. "Now, how did your cane end up all the way up at the Edge of the World?" The Avora had an inclination of what had happened, putting the bratty looking kid, Haya's rebuke of the boy, and the cane's rather inconvenient resting place all together. The poor Drudge had most likely been the target of a cruel prank. His snarky smile faded a bit. Once he would have found it hilarious, a joke he himself would have pulled. But he would think twice now...and he would never do it to Haya. The archer looked at the woman for a moment, his naturally self-centered side debating with the newly emerged socially-aware side that Shayth, Aidara and Haya her self had fostered. He knew it would be difficult for the Drudge to negotiate the narrow trail to the Edge alone, especially without her cane. "Well..." He finally spoke up, "...if you are to get that cane back, we probably ought to get heading out." His smile returned, roughish but with a twinkle of sincerity. Kovac held out his arm for Haya to take.

[Haya]

“Delightfull, hn?” Haya’s expression betrayed that she wasn’t buying the archer’s simple excuse, but she didn’t feel the need to press it.

In reply to his question the drudge pouted her lips, contemplating what would be a suffiencient answer, or not. She considered another sarcastic remark, but decided to drop the act.
“It’s just a prank,” Haya admitted, raising her free hand and dropping it again in a gesture that could be vaguely interpreted as ‘it-can’t-be-helped.’

“You know how kids are,” the mop slipped from between her fingers and came to rest against the wall. “Often they’re behaving an awfull lot like adults.” She placed her hand next to it, seeking her own support from the stone. “The only difference is that with kids, it’s nothing personal.”

Haya shook her head with a wry grin, ragged curls bouncing around her face. She actually couldn’t believe she was talking to this man so easily again, considering their previous encounter. But there was no hint of discomfort or unease. That is, not until he reached out his arm unexpectedly, offering her his help with a boyish smile.

Haya’s first strong impulse was to object, but she hesitated, the protesting voice in her head quickly falling strangely silent. She carefully reached out for the half-blood’s arm, fingers clasping his wrist. ‘You sure?’ For a moment her voice was softer, but it returned to it’s usual volume when she added, with a slight smirk, ‘I thought you were hungry?’

[Kovac]

Kovac caught the subtle insinuation in Haya's remark. You know how kids are...often they’re behaving an awfull lot like adults...the only difference is that with kids, it’s nothing personal. The first time Kovac had met Haya was at the First Thaw Festival. The ill-tempered archer had knocked the Dek's cane down on purpose in a mean-spirited prank. There were not many things Kovac had felt bad about doing...looking back, that was one of them. Striking her in the mouth was another. Knowing Haya now, he could see the personal side to what he had done. Not that he instantly reformed and became a model citizen. He just elevated his surliness to more verbal abuse. As the Drudge shook her head, at him he was sure, Kovac still wondered how she could behave so casually around him, after how he had treated her in the past. Still, a strange rapport had developed between them. That is why he made his uncharacteristic offer to help Haya retrieve her cane. He laughed to himself as he could see her usual ease turn to trepidation and suspicion in her deceptively perceptive green-gold eyes. "Yes, I am sure. Food can wait. You can fetch me my dinner when we get back." His wry grin met hers. Kovac stiffened his arm to provide support as Haya grasped his wrist, leading her into the hall in the direction of the Edge. They walked a bit in silence. As they approached the tunnel that lead towards the giant climbing wall, Kovac broke the silence."I haven't seen you in a while, since the summer when we...well. Since then." He stammered. The last time he really saw her was as he passed out in his bed, Haya laying next to him. He had been drunk, and despite having been smacked in the mouth by the intoxicated Avora, the girl had helped him get back to his room. He offered space in his bed for the night in return, guessing the Dek usually slept on a floor. Oddly enough, he never had dishonorable intentions towards Haya that night, confused and even moved by her unflappable demeanor. He had seen Haya, from a distance, since that night, but never close enough to talk to, nor did he seek her out. "What have you been up to?"

[Haya]

Haya chuckled softly. “What do you think, archer? Summer or winter, my days are filled with the same chores every season.” She wasn’t being bitter about it, rather teasing the half-blood a bit with his ignorance.
The drudge was back to acting like her usual down-to-earth self, even though right now she didn’t feel so self-assured. Most people’s actions were easy to predict, but with the archer she’d been thrown for a loop. It was uncomfortable, a little frustrating perhaps, but most of all it evoked some kind of curiosity.

“I’d half expected you to have forgotten… I mean, you were pretty drunk.” Haya’s tone was casual, but she intentionally kept her gaze on the ground, focusing on her balance and burdening the half-blood as least as possible.
Maybe it was’t so wise to return to that subject, but she was’t the most tactical person one could meet, and she didn’t care much for it either. That exact fact had caused her to clash with the half-blood before, but appearently she wasn’t one to learn from experience either.

They were getting closer to the flank of the mountain, that much was obvious by the change in temperature. Haya didn’t feel much for leaving the warmth of mount Inarta behind, her lontev offered little protection against the winter’s chill.

-apologies for the lateness, and more apologies for having to apologize every time!-

[Kovac]

Kovac supported Haya's arm, his other hand frequently reaching to take hold of her arm or hand as they negotiated the ever narrowing trail. It was chilly, Kovac not intending to leave the warrens when he ran into Haya, but the woman was dressed no warmer, and he found they naturally gravitated closer togehter as they trekked along, unconsiously benefiting from each other's heat. When she mentioned their last meeting, Kovac chuckeld. "Yes, I was pretty drunk. The truth is, I would not have made it home without your help." The Avora kept his eyes on the trail ahead, avoiding Haya's gaze. His encounter with Haya that night was one of several incidents in the recent past that had penetrated his pathetic crusty outer shell and spoke something meaningful to him. He had made progress in his unadmitted effort to reintegrate into society, starting with his interactions with Haya and growing with Shayth and even Adaira. "But I remember it all Haya." He paused, his own eyes cast down at the memory. He had struck her, hard enough to make her mouth bleed. He felt a flash of anger, anger at himself, and misplaced anger at Haya, for being a lowly Dek, for making it easy to unleash his rage on her. The archer's eyes lifted back to the mussy haired girl. She never seemed to hold what he did against him, even helping him get back to his room afterwards. She was attractive, he thought, under the mop of tangled hair and dirt smudges. He knew Haya was not dirty, her appearance came along with her job. But that night, and even now, he did not have dishonorable intentions for her. In all rights, he could take her right here on the trail, but something always stopped him from considering such base acts. Again, it was respect. Besides, he had Shayth now, his days of coercing Dek's hopefully behind him. Kovac gave Haya an uncharacteristic smile, "I don't know if I ever apologized...and thanked......" Suddenly Kovac disappeared. His attention on Haya, the Avora took a misstep, hitting a loose rock and stumbled near the treacherous edge of the trail. Kovac had released Haya before he pulled her down, but now he clawed at the earth, his legs dangling over the cliff, the ground under him crumbling beneath him. He looked up at the woman wide-eyed in fear, his mouth open but voiceless. Then he disappeared over the edge with a stifled yelp. If Haya peered over the edge, she could see Kovac, about ten feet below her, clinging to a jutting rock and his feet straining to rest on a narrow stone leaning out of the cliff wall.

[Haya]

The archer’s name escaped Haya’s throat as a hoarse yell, her eyes widening in horror when the man dissappeared from her view. With his support gone, Haya fell on her knees, palms clutching where the half-blood’s fingers had desperately scratched the earth mere seconds before. When peering over the edge though, a shock went through her body. She did not know what she had expected, but certainly not to meet Kovac’s gaze as he was clutching the cold rock, holding on for dear life.

For a second the Drudge’s mind was blank, trying to process the situation, until the rush of adrenaline took over. She was already acting out her thoughts before they had even completely formed in her mind.
“Hold on!” She yelled, needlessly, before crawling away from the edge. Haya wildly gazed around, tossing her head from left to right. Searching, for anything usefull at all. There was nothing.
What did she have? The fabric of her Lontev wouldn’t hold, would not even reach his height.

Hair. If Haya ‘d had time to properly consider the idea, she would’ve found it quite rididculous indeed, but she had none, and thus immediately acted upon it.
She closed her eyes, mind wandering into a certain area of concentration. Her hands gathering her messy curls together.
Again, if she’d had more time, she might’ve contemplated wether she actually wished to expose this side of her, but she had none, and so exposed it would be.
Familiar warmth had begun spreading through her veins, soon engulfing her completely. She was very concious of every inch of her body now, it’s size, it’s structure, shape. It was in this state that morphing became possible to her. She imagined the change, willed it to be, and it would be.
One could see her, eyes still closed and brows furrowed in concentration, pulling her bundled hair downwards. And while she pulled, it did not tense, it rapidly elongated itself instead. Soon it had grown so long it covered her knees, pooling around her form in auburn strands.
Haya released her hair, but did not yet break her state of concentration. Instead she ran her fingers along both her lower arms, in the direction of her palms. It seemed as if the bone in her lower arms grew, the skin of her palms retreating to let it through as it spiked out for a couple of inches.

It was then that Haya’s eyes snapped open. She wrapped the strand of her own hair around her hand for a couple of times, flinching when she clamped her fingers around it. The piece of pointy bone sticking out of her palm was hindering the usual muscle functioning, but nonetheless she’d shaped it like that for a reason. The Drudge dug one of her palms in the frozen soil of the mountain path, giving her some much-needed grip and resistance. Still on her knees she crouched down deeply, lowering her center of gravity as much as possible to keep herself stable. Kovac was a lot heavier than she was, and she’d better not be dragged over the edge with him.
With her free hand Haya swung the long end of her hair over the edge, praying it’s length was sufficient to reach the archer, and dug the bone of this hand into the rocky soil too.
“Just grab it!” She yelled, which was most probably quite an unnessecary thing to say. Simply because the archer wasn’t in any position to be picky about whatever was it was that was being thrown at him for help. He’d have to climb up himself though, it would already take all of Haya’s effort to keep steady.