Closed The Flying Thief (Fiachra)

[Wikus]

43 – Spring – 516 AV

18th Bell

Reed Park

It was a good day, this one. One of the very few in which the peace could almost be breathed in, inhaled like the smoke of a lit cigar, savored like a good meal. It wasn’t directly in the busy and loud city of Kenash, and many chose it precisely for this quality rather than his simplistic beauty. The afternoon was full of life, be it by the mosquitoes that flew in search of prey, or the fish that danced in the placid waters, between Wikus’ dangling feet. The sun would set itself in the horizon before the end of the bell, and the former Drykas would gladly enjoy its sight once that came. The humidity, although somewhat moderate that day, was still enough to increase the heat felt, his inked flesh rather damp because of it. He enjoyed this place. His spot was somewhat secluded, and thus quite silent salve for the sounds of the controlled wilderness that spawned all around him. He took a moment to take a deep breath before he returned to his work.

Running a hand through his beard and fondling it with his fingers, the blond man would take the thin chisel once more as he rose the bone. Circles were very difficult to make, especially when the task required for precision and attention to detail. He had traced the pattern of the circles previously, and now he tried desperately to carve the bone following said guidelines. Slowly and gently at first, he began retracing the shape of the circle with the chisel, doing nothing else than scratching the surface of the bone for the moment. Wikus hoped this would allow for an easier deepening of the trace, in which the chisel wouldn’t be able to escape the trace so easily. Malediction was certainly a curious art, and although it took a while to be done, the result were always promising. The remains of animals, salvaged and reused, meant an infinite amount of power that could be extracted from them. How many bones were in a cow? All of those bones could be used after the meat was cut, and instead of just adding them to a stew for flavor, a man could use them to gain power.

The shirtless man stretched his back and gaped up to the reddish skies, exhaling slowly as he left the bone and chisel to his side. On the other side, however, stood the small collection of appetizers he had gifted himself, in which a wide variety of products rested on top of curst of bread. He would’ve preferred a good roosted turkey, yet these were the sort of products one could expect from a city as posh as this one. At least they tasted good, he thought, as he tossed of them into his mouth. There was some sort of soft fishy flavor to it, on top of something creamy that laid on the bread crust. Chewing vigorously, he’d reward himself with another one of these treats. His feet rested in the cold waters, moving them around as if stirring a stew, enjoying the refreshing sensation upon his bare feet. Despite his profound fear of water, he had taken the courage to allow himself some freedom. As long as he didn’t think about how deep the waters were, how quickly he’d sink to the bottom, how quickly he’d drown… It was acceptable.

It was then when he felt something touching his right foot, the man immediately panicking and glancing down at the waters, his hands taking a good hold of the edge of the wooden surface in which he sat. Falling down was death, at least in his mind. His eyes fixed in one place, they instead focused on capturing every movement that was within their range, seeing the waters sway and bend, an occasional bug trotting over the surface of the water… It was then when he saw the fish that had poked him, for he had just poked his foot again. Bitterly, Wikus would force a small amount of ink from his tattoos inside his mouth, and harshly spit it towards the fish. The black ink quickly made its message clear as its color began spreading around the surface of the water, the fish moving away for cleaner waters – at least for the moment. Grunting, Wikus would take the bone and chisel once more, yet before proceeding with his work he’d look over his shoulder to make sure he was alone.

A line of trees stood on the other edge of the boardwalk, giving him some intimacy. The boardwalk itself was clear on his right, while on the right a hugged couple approached with their slow and relaxed pace. Wasting their time, apparently, since they could be doing something other like training, or fighting, or getting money, or sitting by the edge of the water and carving circles on a bone found by the edge of the road. Returning his eyes down to his work, he’d repeat the traces made before, using a bit more strength this once to deepen it slightly more. The circle was coming along good, for the moment. Wikus believed it was big enough to allow him to trace the characteristics desired from the bone, yet he was not sure. He was a newbie, after all. Nonetheless, the afternoon was placid, the weather was fine, his feet were dangling in the water and his appetizers were still delicious. Everything was in place, and nothing was there to incite his nerves – especially now that that fish was gone.

[Fiachra]

43 Spring - 516 AV - Reed Park - Kenash

Fiachra had consumed only enough food to survive the day before, being more focused on sleep, on rest for weary wings and abused body. She couldn't help but reflect on the words of the librarian back in Sunberth 'You're going to die.' Well joke was on her. I mean sure, she wasn't in Alvadas yet, quite frankly she hadn't really figured out where she was, but she wasn't dead yet, and she was surely almost there by now. All right, so there had been a few close calls. Yes, she'd maybe run into more terrifying and diverse creatures than wiser people saw in their entire lives. All right, so she'd almost been killed by things as mundane as hunger, but shut up all right? She hadn't been, she was still about, and she was going to get there just fine because. For reasons. She'd decided.

Still, resting was done, and while she might still be bruised, and not quite as glossy or fat as she'd been when she'd set out, her own curiosity and inherent cheekiness was hardly muted. She didn't know where she was, but she knew she didn't like it. She knew it wasn't safe. She'd caught on to that in her few hours awake the previous day. She'd seen some people walking naked, and this had pleased her well enough, because clothes were dumb, and if she didn't have to wear them here, great! Maybe she'd stay a few days. A week even. Find someone else with a map. Being lost hadn't been particularly enjoyable either. And then she'd noticed that some of the naked people had a lot of rib showing. That most of them bore bruises. She'd seen people beaten on the streets. Which shouldn't be new, she'd spent time in Sunberth after all. But in Sunberth you had the option of fighting back. It was a scrap. These people did not fight back. These people cowered.

And that stunk of one thing and one thing only, which a quick flight over the general area had confirmed. Slaving. One didn't stay a free Kelvic long without a healthy awareness and paranoia when it came to slavery. 'Chra had no intention of being stuffed on a perch in a cage. Stuck in someone's room because they had the coin to afford her. No more travel. Nothing new. No. Couldn't. Worse than being a farmer.

So she stayed Raven, and was careful to act normally. If anyone looked too long and hard at her, she'd scratch at something or poop. That usually worked. Then fly casually away.

She'd chosen a park to spend most of her day in. It might have seemed safer to go back out into the wilds, but she did not. There were several reasons for this. Firstly, she'd learned the wilds here, wet, humid, alien things had a whole host of dangers which she was largely unfamiliar with. She was tired. Being somewhere tame was safer when you weren't sharp. Secondly, there was always scavenging to be done when humans and other sentient races were about. Scraps thrown away. Food left unattended. Thirdly, the flight had been long and lonely. Even if they were likely all terrible slavers and a direct threat to her, it was good to be around people again. 'Chra needed people. This was not a personality quirk. This was a bone deep bred in urge. She needed to seek out people. Fourthly and finally, she still wasn't entirely certain where she was. It had all looked so simple and close on the little map. Reality had proven more difficult.

Her choice of locale seemed to have paid off. A man had kindly laid out an entire feast on the grass, just for her, or so it seemed to her in any case. He himself looked interesting enough, and there was something about him that kept trying to draw her attention, but quite frankly she was utterly focused on that food. She not only wanted it, she needed it. Right now.

Carefully, carefully, for she was no owl after all, she dropped from her perch in a nearby tree, ensuring her wings didn't make there usually careless flapping noises, and she approached him from behind. She could do the dive and grab of course, but then you usually only got one thing before the person wised up. Stealth might be more rewarding. She was just getting close enough to consider darting to grab one of the mysterious and tantalizing smelling tasties when he suddenly started, his tattooed back coming dangerously close to her. 'Chra, startled, nearly toppled over backwards, only spread wings and a few hops saved her. Not sure what had prompted his movement, she took to air and found a perch obscured from view again. This proved a good choice when a moment later he looked around himself. Seemingly satisfied and with no looming threats, he turned back to whatever it was he was doing with a.. bone?

Didn't matter. Food.

Black eyes bright and glittering, she dropped down to the ground again, hopping closer, head moving between studying him and eyeing the food. Close enough, hunger overcame caution, the topping from several of the crusts was lost down the Ravens gullet. A large portion of her attention was on him, ready to move if he did. To go left if he went right, and otherwise stay out of his line of sight.

[Wikus]

Wikus was too focused on his own world that he was completely unaware of what was happening behind him. The sounds of nature was all he could hear besides the scratching on the unknown bone. The main circle was almost complete, Wikus starting to add more strength into it to deepen the relief. Bringing the bone to his mouth, he’d blow the remains away to reveal the real state of the circle. It was deep enough already, and so Wikus moved on to a different task. He had to figure out what he wanted from the bone, what power to harvest and what to actually use the bone for. Since he had done the circle already, he’d need to cut around it. Maybe a necklace. Now that he had finished the circle itself, he chose to reward himself by taking one of his appetizers. Stretching his legs out of the water, Wikus’ left hand came blindly to retrieve one of the small portions that he had paid for. Taking one, he’d shove it in his mouth… and find that it lacked much taste. In fact, the only taste present was that of the base itself.

Surprised, Wikus glanced towards his assorted plate to discover that this was the case with several of the bites. Blinking, he looked towards the road to find nobody. Were the appetizers like that from the beginning? As there was no other explanation for the moment, Wikus simply gathered the empty crusts and shoved them in his mouth, struggling to chew on them all. He gave it his best effort, unfortunately not quite satisfied with the lack of taste on top of it. It was plain crust that was to take space in his stomach, wasting any sense of reward he could’ve achieved as he progressed on his work. Just to make sure nothing strange happened to his meal, he would shift in his seat. Extracting his left foot from the waters, he’d would slowly bring it up to the boardwalk, now slightly more adjust to keep an easier eye on his property. It almost seemed as if he was capable of staring into the plate even when he worked, something that was quickly disproved as his poor form when resuming his work clearly stated otherwise. Bent forward, closely inspecting the bone, he would resume his work as most of his sight was obstructed by the bone itself.

Continuing with the same chisel, he’d continue to trace the outline of the malediction circle, turning his head towards the water (and away from his plate) again and again to blow away the bone dust resulting after his work. After a few more quick rounds of retracing the same outline, Wikus would look up and sigh before proceeding with the second part of his work. Now, the circle had to be filled with a symbol, something that was meant to give meaning to the item itself. An item that he had yet to figure out a use for, anyway. That didn’t matter to him for the moment, as he simply wanted to practice the malediction itself, not create something for an actual use. Perhaps some other time, when he was certain of the origin of the bone, he would take the time to carve something out of it. Perhaps a necklace, or some other shyke. That was perhaps the worst of it – being bound to constantly wear said maledicted item. Wikus wasn’t a fan of clothing. That was clear to pretty much everyone who had met him once or twice. If it wasn’t for these posh landlords and their disgusting vision of the world, he might be able to roam around naked.

He decided to carve out the shape of a bird into the bone. Not a chicken, as Kiva had used on the initiation, but instead something different. Birds, birds… Looking up, he hoped to see a bird whose silhouette he could use to draw on the bone. He spotted distant birds hover over the waters. Focusing, he’d force the ink to move into his flesh and take the shape of the bird as he had seen it, thankfully managing to do a rather acceptable copy. Using it as reference, he’d begin very carefully tracing (or trying to, at least) the shape of the bird into the bone. It wasn’t an easy task, and so he took his time to very carefully just scratch the surface of the bone until the shape was acceptable. Only then he’d dare to apply more strength into the pattern. A chime later, Wikus decided to reward himself with yet another appetizer, looking down onto the plate for the first time in quite a while – he had really concentrated into his work.

[Fiachra]

43 Spring - 516 AV - Reed Park - Kenash

As hand approached plate, 'Chra hopped back and away, behind the man again, preparing to either keep moving with him, or fly if necessary. When he grabbed one of the denuded crusts the chances of him catching on to her game increased exponentially. Honestly though, bird stomachs, even one as large and magnificent as a Raven, were not particularly large. She was no longer starving, and was continuing more for the challenge and her own amusement than anything else. If the jig was up she'd not be terribly broken-hearted.

He did indeed give the plate a rather befuddled look before looking back towards the road, but he looked for a person, not for a bird crouched just behind him who sidled away from his gaze. It almost seemed as if she was going to get off scot free, at least until he turned slightly, planting one foot back onto the boardwalk and bringing the plate under his apparently watchful gaze.

Challenge accepted.

If he'd been an animal he might have gobbled down all the food to keep it away from anyone else. But he wasn't, he was human (and wasn't that wonderful? to be back somewhere with people?). Being human he thought he could bring his dominion down to bear on whatever was around him. Maybe. If he wasn't up against something that combined all the intelligence of a human (well, most of it), with the tenacity and sense of humor of a raven. His attempted dominion was noted and promptly flouted. There was a reason a group of ravens was known not only as an unkindness, but also as a conspiracy. One of them alone was more than bad enough when they decided to start playing tricks.

Edging out and around him, a cocked head watched his eyes, estimating what exactly he was looking at and could see. Patience, often in short supply was rewarded when it became clear that although his head might be pointing towards the plate, he wasn't actually seeing it. She sidled as unobtrusively as possible over to the plate and helped herself to more of the creamy, fishy tasties, leaving the crusts behind.

The best of the food gone, game over, point to raven, her attention switched to what precisely the man was doing that took so much of his attention he didn't even notice his tasties being stolen. It looked like he was carving something onto a bone. What kind of bone or why he'd do such a thing she had no idea. That not knowing made it slightly interesting. If she had the choice between food and scratching things onto a bone she certainly knew which she'd choose every time. Frustratingly however, with the way he bent over his work, engrossed, she couldn't see what he was doing. She could flap up into the air of course, but that would not be stealthy at all, there was no way he'd miss that. If it weren't for the fact she'd just finished stealing all his food, perhaps she'd just land on his shoulder and peer at what he was doing, but that didn't seem exactly smart all things considered.

Still, she was feeling particularly cheeky and smug given the success she'd met with so far. Perhaps she'd just.. borrow it for a bit. Just to see what it was. Then give it back. Well. Drop it safely from a height was more likely. She strutted away from him, behind his back, back to the trees. That should be far enough that she could ascend without his immediate notice. She flapped, as stealthily as she could, up to a branch and waited for her moment. It came not much longer when he looked up, unbending from his work to turn his attention back to what remained of his food.

With internal glee, already anticipating a successful trick, she launched, rising as she winged above him before diving steeply, talons extended to try and snatch the bone before winging away to examine it. That was the intention anyway. Of course considering she knew nothing about the man she'd been harassing, whether or not it worked out that way...

[Wikus]

He knew it. He had the suspicion, buried deep down within him, that when he looked onto the plate again he’d see it bare. Of course they didn’t hand him a plate with a few bare crusts! That’d be ridiculous. Maybe subconsciously he had seen the plate and remembered the rich variety of toppings spotted, yet forgot about it. It was that subconscious what nudged him on the back of the head, what tried to tell him to be more aware to his surroundings and discover as to why his last mouthful was only of crusts and bare in toppings. Never again would he doubt his subconscious, as now he was met with the sight of an entire plate of crusts. In some of them, he could see the remains of the topping, creamy remains tainting the crust like an old portrait of a deceased individual. His eyes went wide open, those same eyes being similar to valves that opened the reserve of his rage, his teeth showing through his beard as he felt the need to burn down the entire swamp due to this outrage. Already looking for the culprit all around, still in his seat, such decision denied him the ability to react to the flying thief.

Sweeping from the skies, the sudden flapping the two black, feathery wings brought the panic within Wikus, whom could do nothing but shoot his body back as, unfortunately, the creature snatched the bone from his hand. Not a tick later, his surprise turned to realization: the thief had been a black bird. Wikus couldn’t help but wonder if this was some sort of divine punishment, a consequence for the harassment he had laid upon Riverfall’s aviary species. The shock faded away rather quickly, pushed away by the intense rage as it was usual with him. Staring at the flying thief, he’d jolt up to his feet and quickly reach for his nearest weapon – the crusts. Damned be those few days in which he forgot his whip, damned be this city that treated nudity as something unpleasant, and damned be this bird whom would take away his day’s work and made him look like a fool. Defeat by a bird – he had definitely hit rock bottom. Armed with the bare crusts, his outburst of rage didn’t allow him to take control, and instead of using skills like aim or qualities like precision, Wikus took a handful of the crusts and tossed them towards the bird.

Not even close. Even if one the many crusts managed to hit it, the bird would just fall dead because of a piece of hard bread. Tossing one of the tools from his kit would be a waste, as their cost was as unrealistic as the surreal situation in which he found himself trapped in. A strange kind of whine escaped his throat, eager to just scream his lungs out yet too proud to show his true feelings to the bird. With a sudden spark of creativity, Wikus quickly reached for the porcelain plate, which was truly his last resource to defeat the evil bird. Holding back his desires to toss it dumbly and miss, instead he forced some patience onto himself by inhaling deeply, slowing down his heart and thus feeling way calmer. The usual frown on his features, no matter how gorgeous, his eyes squinted as they watched the black bird slowly circle in the air and head towards the boardwalk. Was it a crow? It looked like one. Useless questions aside, he’d follow closely the movements of the enemy, whom he wanted to punch in the face no matter how absurd a giant like him would look by punching a bird.

The bird seemed to approach the ground, and Wikus realized it wanted to land, several feet away from him. Obviously, the bird was no fool, and it’d take flight before Wikus could ever do anything to it. However, if he played his assets right, he could hit it before it realized, then punch him in its beaked face, snap its neck and eat it right there. Mostly to destroy the only witness of this rather pathetic situation of his. In a last gamble, he’d settle on a specific spot he believed that the bird would halt, and if he was careful enough, he might be able to toss the plate like a disc and hit it before it landed. Preparing his stance, he didn’t have much time to prepare, and instead of wasting it, he took the edge of the plate and, with the help from his wrist, he’d toss it and cause it to rotate at great speed through the air.

Despite how heavy the plate was, it seemed to hover through the air, perhaps by the force used in Wikus’ toss. He had never done this before, yet a piece of fortune was apparently imbued into the ceramic as it headed directly towards the bird at great speed. Just before the bird managed to hit the ground, when it was still in the air yet at its slowest due to the flapping destined to slow it down, the plate arrived and impacted against it. Wikus believed the ceramic would shatter due to the hit, yet the only thing he heard was a thud and the plate landing loudly on the boardwalk. He had hit it! Wikus growled, and with a quick stride he’d approach it before the thief could have a chance to escape. He harassed the birds, and it wouldn't be the other way around.

[Fiachra]

43 Spring - 516 AV - Reed Park - Kenash

Success! Talons closed on bone. This left her in a bit of a spot however. The angle she'd dove from had been slightly awkward, and while an acrobat in the air, once she hit something on the ground, it took some time and effort to get back up again. She at least managed to stay in the air if low and slow, rebounding away from him still clutching the prize. Dark eyes darted, calculating. If she landed on the boardwalk here, had a half second to collect herself, she could launch to that tree and examine the bone with impunity.

Or such was the plan, it seemed foolproof as an utterly ineffective handful of crusts and crumbs went flying past her. A few did hit their target but even those that didn't gently bounce off achieved all of nothing other than giving her something to look forward to when she groomed later.

And then something hit her with enough force that it not only plain old hurt and knocked the breath out of her, it actually stunned her for a moment. She'd been going to land briefly on the boardwalk, now she fell to it. Hitting the ground, even if it was relatively slowly and from so close to the ground, was not a feeling she was accustomed to. For a half second that felt to her like forever, no air entered her lungs, she lay, beak parted, wings half extended but pressed against the ground, not beating the air as they should have been.

And then the butt of her tricks and bad behavior was there, drawing over her like the wrath of an angry God, and the tiniest smidgeon of sense returned to her. He was angry. Of course he was angry. She'd been tormenting him for a goodly length of time. And now she was caught. He'd hit her with something already to knock her out of the air, but if he hit her properly while she was a Raven... A gruesome image of a heel crashing down, crushing and grinding, breaking delicate bones, causing insides to ooze outside.. No!

Human. It was not good to be human here but what choice? At least then there was a better chance to survive. As long as you survived there was a chance to get away. A swirl of light and a downed Raven was a downed woman. Still half stunned, but at least she managed to pull in a mouthful of air and curl into a ball, protecting her face and stomach. At least she wasn't as ribby as she would have been the day before. There still wasn't much padding between her and his wrath, but her ribs would not be showing as starkly, though a new and rather impressive bruise was already spreading along one side and onto her back where the plate had struck her.

Finally there was enough air to communicate, and there was really only one thing worth saying. Eyes squeezed shut, chin on chest, arms raised to cover her head, stolen item hidden safely at the center of said ball.

"No! Go 'way!"

[Wikus]

Wikus’ wet footsteps splashed on the boardwalk, his entire weight banging with each of his strides, his crazed eyes already being a premonition of his intentions. To think this damned bird had harassed him to such extent, be it by stealing his food or stealing his magic, was humiliating. He’d punch it, tear away its head with his teeth, and devour it raw just to prove his point. However, halfway there, the bird suddenly flashed in light, Wikus halting his steps and covering his eyes as if that bird was to become a sun that scorched his eyes. It didn’t last long, that flash, yet when he looked again it certainly seemed like the light was still there. Not because of his eyes, but because of the sudden surprise: there was no bird, but instead there was a… woman? Having never witnessed something similar, Wikus’ mouth opened as he watched the naked body of said woman, whom curled into a ball and, unfortunately, kept a hold of his bone. His ignorance about the world he lived it, and his simplistic mind immediately told him that anything he could not explain was due to magic, something he hated and feared even more than water or crabs.

If she truly was a mage, he could not show any weakness, nor give her a chance to do something harmful to him. Fighting against his instinct, which told him to run away, he instead resumed his pace with even further haste. Now, however, he did everything he could think of to try and intimidate the woman and hinder her possibilities of doing magic – if that’s how it worked, anyway. He had to paralyze her with fear. A low growl began to form in his throat, as his eyes widened to clearly demonstrate his annoyance. Furthermore, he did all he could to flex his torso in hopes of bringing out some vascularity in the forms of veins across his neck. Despite his thin frame, his musculature was more or less developed enough to indeed show some veins here and there, which would remain visible for a couple of chimes. Aside from that, he forced some of his ink into his mouth, and began harshly breathing through his mouth, forcing the black ink to be spat out with every breath and taint part of his mouth and facial hair with its darkness. Never before he had seen anything that spat black, and he imagined it to be terrifying.

Vaulting a leg over the female’s frame, he’d lower himself down to straddle her, sitting on her hip as he was getting ready to do whatever it was necessary to avoid both her magic. He didn’t want to kill her, or even hurt her more, but he did want his bone and impose his presence over here. She was a woman, after all, and a man is always above a woman. His eyes caught the presence of the bruise, immediately branding it to his plate toss and his fortuitous accuracy. She was truly, and without a doubt, the bird that had transformed into a woman. Strange world, indeed. Taking a hold of the plate that had landed beside her, he’d raise it and smash it against the boardwalk, the porcelain shattering loudly right by her position, to which he’d immediately take a hold of one of the many shards, an improvised weapon to scare her even further. Even so, his gnosis, unbeknownst to him, made him even more terrifying. Its aura of health made him seemlingly invincible, unable to bleed or break even if he was hit. Its aura of strength made him look as if he could snap a human being without much effort, even further enhancing the notion of his height as if he was a tower all by himself.

He didn’t say anything as instead his free hand came forward, taking a harsh grip on the female’s arm and trying to yank it aside without any success – she was safe in her own little bubble. “Give me bone!” he’d yell, some of the ink from his mouth flying down on her bare skin, his hand still trying to break her stance, almost looking like a rapist trying to claim its next victim.

[Fiachra]

43 Spring - 516 AV - Reed Park - Kenash

The vibrations from the stomping and the growl that escaped the man were doing their job. Fiachra was afraid. She was an interesting creature. Normally utterly fearless and fairly convinced of her own immortality, yet at the same time she spent a good part of her life in a form that if caught was easily injured. Some of that awareness of frailty carried over to human form, and while it didn't make her cautious, in the rare occasions when her often unwise actions did backfire, when she was in a situation where she was going to be hurt, terror was probably a better word than fear. Unfortunately it was generally forgotten as soon as the situation was escaped, which meant the life lessons she accumulated were few and far between.

As his weight descended on her, pinning her and making a change back to Raven currently out of the question, the fact that she was proper trapped began to dawn on her. The sound of the plate breaking made her cringe, curling even tighter, expecting to feel a sharp edge digging into her skin at any moment. A rough hand wrapped itself around her arm, trying to yank it away from its shielding position. He failed, but he was strong, and if he kept trying, he would succeed. Only adrenaline was letting 'Chra resist him.

So, what to do?

She still wasn't one hundred percent after the trip from Sunberth to Kenash. Even if it had been uneventful it would have been trying. It had not been uneventful. Add to that the fact that even at one hundred percent he was bigger, stronger, probably knew more about fighting than her and had her pinned. What was the answer? How did you survive? How did you get away and continue? Beg? 'Chra wasn't particularly proud, but to beg did not even occur to her. This was her Raven nature. Caiyhas children didn't beg. There was no point. The sheep begging the wolf for its life wasted it's last breaths. So fight. Even if she was going to lose. Fight. At least then there was a chance, however small.

"No!"

The arm he had a hold of shot forward, past her head, extending his arm with it. Quick as a striking snake, 'Chra twisted head rising and snapping forward ready to take a chunk out of the offending appendage.

Except.

Except.

Except then she saw him.

First she had been focused on the food. He was only a shape to watch and avoid, to stay behind, utterly secondary to the food. Then she'd been focused on what he was doing, on the bone. He'd never been more than a moving placeholder to her. One of hundreds of forms that moved past and were never seen again and had no bearing on her or her life. Now, with the threat he posed, she was utterly focused on him. Utterly and completely to the point that the rest of the world had failed to matter. And now she saw him.

She froze. Unprepared for this. Dark eyes widened, pinned on his face. Fierce blue eyes pinned her far more than his weight. White even teeth were bared in a snarl, surrounded by a blonde beard that suited him just so. Head was shaven on the sides and back and allowed to grow from the top. Tattoos covered a fit body, muscular, but not bulky, still lean. His arms and shoulders, tensed from their encounter were impressively defined. He was perfect. He was absolutely perfect and she was meant to be his. He was who she'd flown so far to find. He was what was missing within her. He was her bondmate. Without him she was a kite without a string. Allowed to fly high and freely, but soon tossed to the ground. Lost, alone, purposeless.

"..sorry.."

Hardly more than a whisper, but how was she to speak, to explain when all of this was rushing through her? When so much had changed that could not be unchanged. Adoration and regret filled her, replacing the wild fear. Should not have met so. Should have paid more attention, but oh she'd found him. The bond had been sudden, as unexpected as one ever was. But it was deep. She was old. Old to be unbonded, though in many ways still very young. New or not, her bond was deep and true, and it was possible he'd pick up on some of the emotions already, so completely did they fill her.

[Wikus]

Trying to fight against the curled woman, Wikus did not give up in his vain attempts to try and wedge her arms apart. All he wanted was his bone, the one he had been working for the entire day, and one that rightfully belonged to him. Although not a violent man by nature, Wikus began to wonder if it would be easier to simply smack her until she gave up, him being in his right to do so. The humiliation this female had made him feel was something he needed to overcome, for his pride was amongst the only things he had kept with himself no matter how much else he lost. To think that his pride as a man was to be tainted, that it would fall sick and wither like the worms that danced in the mud was perhaps one of his deepest fears. A man was nothing without his pride. The ability to thump at his chest and scream his lungs out against the world, to overcome obstacle after obstacle yet keep walking forward even the doubts infected the mind, and even to just reclaim his property from a thief was all he could do to preserve that part of himself.

Wikus had nothing against the woman, even if she had irked him and destroyed his good mood, so rare in him. He cared not for the food as much as it seemed, for it was only food and he could buy more. The woman resisted him, trying her best to match him even when her poor frame clearly stated how frail she was compared to his never-ending health. Her skin had a story by itself, the dehydration and lack of mass proving her own struggles to fight the world. Wikus was, in a way, similar, for her kept his life story written across his own flesh. “Just give it back!” She shifted below him, tried her best to fight him, when she suddenly stopped. Whatever it was she saw, Wikus did not, for he had seen his chance to slip his arm between her defenses and take away the bone she had stolen from him. His hand closed around it and he finally retrieved it, when he too was struck.

It could’ve been when he gaped into her eyes, dark and secretive, which he couldn’t help to envy her for. Those dark grey eyes that hid emotion and showed no weakness, protecting her mind from intruders. The hair, so black and exotic, as Wikus had spent his life surrounded by golden hairs. Tan skin, proof of a sunbath and her battle against the elements. She was a child, bucking down under the abuse of someone who could only envy her youth as they had wasted their life away. He was the one slowly trying to take away her innocence, represented by the bone she wanted. Wikus knew, deep down, that he would’ve done the same thing if he was to see something he liked. In fact, he was a pretty good thief himself, always stealing cutlery, plates, or even something as useless as firewood. That’s why he couldn’t help but to regret doing what he was doing, head going back and expression changing to represent just what that nagging feeling inside him told him. Regret. A whine escaped his throat, like an animal in pain that tried to keep that a secret, and the more the thought about what he was doing to this woman for a simple bone, the more intensity the feeling gained.

Her whisper reached his ears, and Wikus couldn’t feel anything but disgust by his actions. Immediately he stood up to his feet, no longer wishing to pressure her with his bodyweight. Instead, he crouched right next to her, looking down on her features, eyes locked and lips twitching in doubt. Insecure as to what to do, or what to say, he started by giving back what rightfully belonged to her. Offering the bone with the carved circles to her, his breathing had been affected by whatever it had shifted inside him. There was a void inside him, a need and an addiction he had to satiate yet he had no idea as to how to do so. There was something in her beauty that comforted him, however, something that drew him to her. It could’ve been her innocence, her youth, her eyes. It offered no answers, yet it did promise him one if he knew how to search for it. “…for you.” Said Wikus with his broken language, the heavily accent that stated just how far away he was from home, and how lost he felt. She could understand his pain.

Two voices from behind snapped him out of her eyes, looking over his shoulder to meet the sight of two Freeborns, a couple that were chatting amongst them as they watched. Wikus returned his sight upon the woman, naked and vulnerable because of him, and despite the chaos within him, he did try to offer his aid. Along with the bone, he offered his other hand to help her stand, to at least apologize for what he had done. He saw much of himself in her, and he knew just how much a helping hand was needed once in a while. Wikus needed many hands many times, yet was never brave enough to admit it. For her, however, he’d make an effort. “Come on, woman.”

[Fiachra]

43 Spring - 516 AV - Reed Park - Kenash

He'd managed to get the bone back. She felt brief regret at not having had a chance to examine it yet, at not having had a chance to try and understand what mattered to him so much that he would put so much of his time and effort into it. For the most part though, it was fine. It was right and correct. Whatever she had was his. It was possible time would temper this, but now, in full grip of a new, deep bond, there was little to nothing 'Chra would have begrudged him. She did not have much, in fact though she'd left caches behind her, here she had nothing, but what she did have was his. What he wanted she would get.

At least his anger seemed to have flown with the retrieval of what was his, lucky, because if it had not she would not have fought back against whatever justice he chose to mete out. His expression changed almost immediately after meeting her eyes, and he pulled back and away, rising. For a moment a feeling very like panic rose in 'Chra. Was he leaving? Was he leaving her? She would follow. She would follow no matter what, but she did not want him to want to leave her behind. Instead he crouched beside her, watching her. She could not guess what he was thinking. His face was expressive, but some human thoughts were too complex for her to accurately interpret. She read simple body language better than most, but when things got deep and meaningful, she was left on shore staring bewildered out into the depths.

And then he gave back the bone. He gave her that which he had spent time and effort on. He gave her a gift that he had made himself. This, 'Chra decided almost immediately, was not something that could be cached and left behind. This was a treasure to be kept.

"Thank you."

Voice still slightly more subdued than usual, she was still feeling somewhat overwhelmed, but 'Chra being who and what she was, parts of her mind were already ticking, brightening up, perking up and taking notice. He had an accent. Not one she was familiar with, and not like the ones she'd heard so far here. So he wasn't Syliran or Sunberthian. He wasn't Zeltivan or Inartan. She had a list of things that he wasn't, and now she wondered what he was. Perhaps while she'd been traveling looking for him, he'd been looking for her too. This idea appealed to her.

When he offered his hand and summoned her, she immediately took it. Of course she would go with him. She would go where he went, live where he lived, his people would be her people. What he wanted would come to pass. His goals would be realized. He would prosper and any who acted against him would fall. This was not a thing that had to be thought about or decided. It simply was.

Pulled up onto her feet, she did not take her hand from his. Nor did she seem particularly concerned about her own nudity or the people around. She was focused only on him still. She did take a brief moment however, to glance at the bone clutched in her other hand, she planned to examine it more closely later. That glance turned into a surprised stare, which just as quickly morphed into a grin.

"Look!"

She demanded, pulling on his hand and extending the bone, etching up. He'd know what was on it, he'd made it after all. The circles and within them the bird.

"You made this. You called. See?"

Thumb of the hand holding the bone tapped the bird and then bone was brought to her own chest before being held out again. The logic in it was obvious to her. He'd carved an image of what was clearly, obviously her, and here she was. This was some sort of magic then, and he'd used it to bring them together. Good!

"My name is Fiachra."

It was important. It was important that he knew who she was. That he could call when he needed or wanted her. She would answer to anything he called her, but it was still important that he knew who she was.