Pay Your Debt (Berus)

[Cara]

Timestamp: Spring 17, 511 AV Cara had spent a long day working in the stables, and was feeling rather drained. Her legs ached, as did the muscles in her hands. Her head was reeling, and her eyes were blazing. "Where is that lazy little, petching idiot who lost a bet fair and square? Berus OWES me a week's worth of hard labor! He was supposed to meet me in the stables this morning to help with the horses, and his lazy arse never showed," Cara growled to herself as her hands clenched into fists as she walked through the moonlit snow. The occasional silver star could be seen lingering at the sides of the moon. Her feet were crunching the snow into submission, leaving a trail of footprints in her stead. If anyone were to follow them, they'd lead them directly back to the Frostfawn hold. Cara quickened her pace as the wind howled around her, whipping her hair wildly in all directions. At times, it would fly into Cara's mouth, and she'd spit it out angrily; almost instantly. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her muscles were somewhat tensed. She was going to give Berus a piece of her mind for not showing up to help her. Cara had been told that the man liked to drink, and that she would more than likely find him at the Red Diamond Tavern. That is, if he had even so much as bothered to do his share of the work today. "He better be there," Cara growled as her eyes flashed, and she continued through the snow. She could see the tavern up ahead, and knew that she would arrive within a few minutes. When she reached the wooden door to the tavern, Cara pushed it open, and quickly strode in. The wind whistled through the door, bringing a rush of cool air, and a small snow flurry blob into the entrance. Within seconds, the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind her. All eyes on the tavern seemed to be drawn to her. Cara smiled wickedly, she was certain she saw a few younger Vantha shivering, as well as the older ones that knew her and her fury too well. Cara strode over to the bar, and leaned up against it. "Hey, have you seen Berus?" she asked the man behind the counter. He was a man older than she, perhaps in his early thirties, his hair was dark and cropped close to his head. The man was shorter than Cara and a bit larger around the middle. He was drying off a mug with a dirty looking rag. The man put the dried mug down on the wooden counter, and slapped the rag over his shoulder. He lifted his right hand, and then pointed towards the fire, "last I checked he was over there." Cara smiled again, but made no other response to the bartender. She walked around the bar, and headed for the table directly in front of the fireplace. A raging fire sat inside, billowing a thick gray smoke all around, and through the chimney. A large pair of antlers hung directly above the stone fireplace, they looked to be that of a moose. When Cara reached the table, she slammed her hands down upon it, before lying her palms flat on the wood, and leaning into them. "Where have you been all day?" Cara scolded the man sitting at it angrily. "You were supposed to help out in the stables, but you never bothered to show! What in all of Avanthal is your problem?" the girl screamed, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her growing sense of anger. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and it felt like every ounce of blood she contained was swimming around her head; pooling in her temples and behind her ears.

[Berus]

Berus contentedly gazed into the fire, leaning back easily in his chair and sipping a rather cheap brand tonight. He was exhausted from all the work he had to do and he frustrated that he wasn’t even making any money out of it. He couldn’t even get himself to bring his lyre along with him tonight to play as he daydreamed for he feared that his fingers might go on strike and desert him if he forced them into even more work now. However, listening to the tales of old men who gathered around the fire late at night in a tavern was always soothing to him whenever he was having a bad day and it held a rather peaceful, restful effect on him now.

Berus’s aching limbs, both from the crashing Elk ride and the hard work that followed, felt good as they were warmed by the fire. In fact, the fire was so good he thought he might just sleep here where he sat tonight. Nothing seemed like it could ruin this fine evening, aside from the prospect of another hard day of work tomorrow. Berus sighed as he considered the prospect of doing that kind of labor every day so that he would have money. He was able to get by well enough as long as his parents had paid for his rooms, but now they had withdrawn their support and he would have to pay for himself completely. For some odd reason, he had nightmares about a black pug coming to his door to demand he pay his rather large accumulation of bills.

He shook his head, smiling a bit over his silliness. Maybe he’d drunk more than he thought. Berus’s head started to slump down as he drifted off…

Slam!

Berus awoke with a start, his head coming back to smack painfully against the back of his wooden chair. The old men who had been talking earlier had abandoned him and in their place… stood the crazy woman he had met on that fateful night he’d attempted to ride an Elk! As if it were a nightmare, the bloodshot eyes of Cara were only a few feet away from his face as she leaned forward and seemingly screamed at him, berating him for not showing up to help her with whatever it was she had wanted! Berus tried to slide backwards in his chair and get away but, alas, his weight was not sufficient to move the massive wooden chair.

Berus looked left and right and, seeing that he had no backup, merely shrugged at her. “I was out working all day and came in here just after to drown away my troubles,” Berus said evenly. “I don’t really like the stables so much; it’s far too smelly and dirty in there for me. I prefer smelly people at a bar to smelly animals in a barn.” Berus managed to smile at her, though he knew it wasn’t wise to egg her on. Still! She had come up to his table and scolded him like a child in front of all of these people! ‘Fight anger with humor,’ Berus’s grandfather had always used to say. Well, used to say before he perished in a particularly nasty barfight.

[Cara]

Cara smiled wickedly before she spat out the words, "drinking your troubles away?" She slammed on the table again with her fists, her eyes were blazing, matching the flame in the fireplace. "As though the likes of you needs more alcohol to dampen your already sad excuse for a system," she added as she extended her right hand and pulled the mug of beer away from him. She lifted it to her lips, and gave it a sniff. Cara scrunched up her nose and then slammed the glass back down on the table. "Figures. You WOULD buy the cheapest brand on the menu." Cara stared at him angrily. "You couldn't even buy something worth taking," Cara added. Perhaps that was all part of his plan. "And I would suggest you wipe that stupid grin off your face mister. You are in so much trouble. Especially because of your last comment! The animals smell far better than the likes of you! You big fat lazy arse!" Cara screamed. "Not only that, but you have cheap beer dripping out the sides of your mouth, trickling down your chin, and pooling around that beer belly you've been working so hard to develop. Your eyes seem to be glazing over slightly with the alcohol, or perhaps it's your tiredness. Wait, never-mind that, LAZINESS. Your arse is more than likely stuck to that chair, your legs too weak, from your 'hard work' to simply back yourself out and run from me!" Cara's face was starting to turn a bright shade of red, she was so angry, it was ridiculous. "It is apparent, Berus," Cara spat, "that you never bothered to show up because you simply cannot stand being around a person such as myself. But that's alright, you don't have to like me to serve me." Cara paused for a moment to catch her breath before continuing, "besides, it's not that bad, you only have to work for a week. Surely a man as strong as yourself can handle a little work in the stables?" Cara taunted, her eyes flashing menacingly as she picked up the glass of unfinished beer and tossed it at the man who had been laughing at the nearby table. Cara turned to him, "you think that's funny?" Cara screamed. The man shook his head nervously. "Exactly as I thought," Cara said to him, as he began to dab at his beard with a napkin. It was dripping golden drops of alcohol. Next time, he had best stay out of one's fights. Unless he wants something else hurled at him, like a hot ball of fire. Cara smiled wickedly as she turned back to Berus. She wasn't finished with him yet. Her anger was rising, her speech was making her feel powerful, like a cat drawing out the time it took to deal the final blow to a mouse it had corned long ago. Her eyes glimmered. "You know love," she said as sweetly as she could, which wasn't sweet at all; since a sense of cold lingered around the edge of her words, "if you didn't want to work, you shouldn't have made a bet you couldn't have won. After all, you're not exactly a Frostfawn," Cara sneered. "Just a sad excuse for a Snowsong," she finished. Cara was breathing deeply in through her nose, and then out through her mouth. She was focusing on the djed that coursed through her veins. She could feel the familiar tingling sensation in her fingertips, as res started to build up around them. Soon enough, a small, translucent light blue ball of res was hovering above her hand. She ignited the edges of the ball, and flicked it forward. The ball inched forward. It glowed a bright orange, and sent a trickle of heat through the thickening air. When it hovered about six inches before Berus' eyes, Cara smiled wickedly. The light of her flaming res ball was reflected in her eyes, "feeling lucky?" Cara asked, as the ball burst, sending small sparks in every direction. She doubt she had actually hurt Berus, if anything, Cara may have burnt off his eyebrows. But she wasn't too worried, they'd grow back. The fire seemed to grow stronger. It roared and crackled, sending the occasional spark into the bar. Cara's heart was beating all the more rapidly in her chest. Beating against her rib cage like a drum. Her use of magic always made her feel so powerful. Like she was on top of the world and nothing could ever bring her down. Surely nothing could bring her back to earth now, while her blood rushed through her veins and her heart was filled with an intense sense of euphoria? Something she felt so rarely nowadays. Cara was so pleased with herself, that she emitted a sort of cackle. She soon stopped herself however, when she received more stares from the people around the bar. She needn't give them more to stare at... for now. "Now Berus, why don't you do everyone a favor and get up?" Cara asked, her tone icy as ever.

[Berus]

It occurred to Berus that he was being berated by a madwoman! At first he was under the impression that it was his mother standing in front of him, giving him yet another of her famous, long winded lectures, but then he noticed the gleam of primal satisfaction in her cold eyes. She was really enjoying this! His mother had always bore a look of sadness when she was forced to berate her children, raising her sing-song voice up to heights which greatly reminded anyone in earshot of metal disks scraping against each other. This woman, however, did not seem as if it was mere metal scratching, but rather swords clashing on a great field of battle. Her eyes flashed like vicious lightening and her voice cracked as if it were thunder; there was even fire to go along with it!

Berus had to raise a hand to shield his face from the flying sparks as they sizzled through the air. The woman’s floating fireball spat them out all over the place, though they seemed not nearly as dangerous sharp-edged words coming from her darkly beautiful face. Her eyes, which seemed so cold before, had been melted by her fireball to transform, not into kindness as one would hope, but rather into a terrible form of dark euphoria. To the poor little bard sitting in front of her this seemed as if it were a nightmare come true. No, this was no little black pug coming with bills, but instead a horrible witch bringing fire, death, and, even worse; insults all aimed at him! Berus’s mind considered panicking for a short second at the spectacle before his blood began to boil and his pride, in the strange form that it was, demanded he stand up to this monster.

Berus reached forward and picked up a discarded beer glass, shaking it to confirm that it still contained about half its size in a dark liquid. He glanced inside, Ah, the hard stuff. That will do the trick. Then he raised it over the floating ball of fire, ignoring the sparks that scorched his wrist, and dumped its contents over the ball, extinguishing it and causing a horrible smelling mist to appear. He calmly set the glass back down on the table, folding his hands over it. He casually leaned forward and rested his chin upon his folded hands, eyes flashing a bright, fierce blue as he once again regarded the woman on what was almost an equal standing.

He spoke, his voice calm and controlled. “You are right to assume that I ditched you because I don’t like you. However, you are very wrong to think that you can come in here, scream at me, and then expect me to just walk out of here with my tail between my legs. I may be just a simple Snowsong, but at least we have good looks and charm,” Berus grinned, but the smile did not reach his eyes. “I consider the fact that you cheated to knock Darren off of his Elk good enough cause to cheat you out of your prize. An eye for an eye, as it were?”

Berus leaned back in his chair, preparing himself mentally in case she exploded. He would need to be ready to do some maneuver. He had several options open to him; he could slam back against the chair hard enough to knock it over and allow him an escape, he could jump onto the table and then run, or he could slide underneath it to safety. He had to keep all of those options open in case this volatile woman decided to send the next fireball down his little throat. Finally, he continued, “Now, madam, if you would please move out of my way? Your fire was certainly pretty, but it lacked the warmth of a real fire. Oh, and by the way, we do not appreciate magic here in our bar, so please; leave as soon as it is convenient? I’m certain you can light another fire with your tongue outside to keep you warm if your Frostfawn buddies are as tired of you as I am.” Berus’s tone nearly matched Cara’s.

[Cara]

Cara raised her right brow amusedly, as her eyes continued to flash. Good looks and charm? Please! All the lot could do was play musical instruments... sometimes. Most of the time their attempts at picking up something new could be heard throughout the icy city, and trust Cara when she thought that the sounds were not pleasant ones. Certainly not what one would call easy on the ears. "Perhaps I underestimated you young Snowsong, but trust me when I say, that this is not the end," she hissed. "And as for the prize. Well, even if the fire had not been lit beneath that elk, Darren would have fallen. You know as well as anyone that he knows nothing of animals. The same goes for you, right?" Cara asked. She already knew the answer however, and didn't bother to wait for the Vantha's inevitable reply. "Even so, that would only nullify HIS bet with me, not yours. Surely you're not stupid enough to think that there was more cheating. After all... you fell flat on you arse soon enough even without the fire. Which could only mean that your end of the bargain must be upheld." Cara stared icily at Berus. She would win this battle, that she knew for sure. "As for getting out of your way, you can certainly forget about it Berus," Cara hissed. "If anything, you can follow me out. Surely you'd prefer losing a fight where no one was around to watch. Especially if you are to lose to a girl, in front of a bunch of drunken men." Cara smiled wickedly. He would not get away from her. The tingling sensation of fresh djed was coursing through her veins, the scent of magic was filling her nostrils. The night would not end without a fight, and perhaps, some fresh blood. "Now, would you like to come outside to finish this? Or would you prefer we stay here? After all, you don't exactly have the authority to kick anyone out of this bar. Much like just about everyone else in here." With that, Cara twisted her head so that she was looking away from Berus and the fire, and towards the rest of the tavern's patrons. She glared at each of them. They all seemed to be staring, and it was beginning to get on her nerves. Some of the men, having noticed her glaring, turned away. Others quickly downed their mugs of beer and ale, and then pushed back their seats, and left. With a satisfied smile, Cara turned back to Berus. "Trust in the words: you shall certainly regret your last comment Snowsong," Cara sneered. "Although they may grow as tired as you, at least they're not foolish enough to speak." Cara ran her fingers absently over the table. "The only thing that manages to do is ensure that you get burned. Embarrassed; and generally made a complete and utter fool of." With that, Cara crossed to the other side of the table, so that the two were standing rather tightly together. Cara was only inches from his face. She could smell alcohol and dirt in his hair. She stared down at him, her irises were a ruby red; hungry for battle. "You have five minutes to come outside to the front of the bar. We can end this there," Cara whispered. "Should you not make it there, you shall be embarrassed in front of all the patrons who are foolish enough to remain." With that, Cara turned abruptly on her heels, and walked to the door. She pushed it open and walked into the cold night air. Small snow flurries were fluttering down from the sky. They glimmered as they fell; a milky white from the full moon. The door slammed shut behind her, and Cara took a few more steps away from the door. Berus will come, and when he does, he'll be lucky to still be alive. Cara smiled wickedly; all she had to do now was wait, and although it was only five minutes, it would feel like an eternity. OOCSheesh Cara should have been a Dhani. P.S. Cara will not kill you. Unless you want me too. But she will certainly scare you, and start a fight, more than likely filled with magic and screaming, and unfair tactics. Beware.

[Berus]

Berus watched her leave, slithering, snakelike, out into the cold to wait on him. The woman seemed so much like a viper that Berus was half afraid she’d turn, coil, and then leap out at him in an attempt to send deadly poison rushing through his veins. Berus looked down at the table in deep thought, noticing as he did so that he had managed not to soil himself when faced with the fire and lightning of the woman’s wrath. The same could not be said for a couple of the other patrons who had not even been in the direct line of fire! However, Berus’s uncharacteristic, pulsing anger that had been fueled by exhaustion, irritation, and beer and sparked by the hot fires of the woman’s own rage was quickly evaporating as he was given time to reflect upon what had transpired.

This was both a blessing and a curse. The blessing was that he could now think clearly and perhaps manage to assuage her anger so that a peaceful solution might be obtained. If he was clever enough, he might even be able to get out of having to go back to manual labor! The bad side was that it was probably already too late to avoid any conflict. Berus’s eyes flicked towards the doorway, cursing that he’d decided against taking his spear with him, unwilling to chance unfavorable conditions somehow running the sharp point of his precious pole weapon. Now that his anger had dissipated, he had probably lost his best defense. Sometimes the best way to fight fire was with fire, and this woman’s fire wouldn’t be brought down easily by mere water. Fire had kept her away so far, but now that the fire was gone Berus was left perhaps without hope. Why did I have to go to the Tavern today… he thought, despairing.

Berus started off towards the door, deciding that if he couldn’t run he might as well face his demons head on. Still, his green eyes sought any opportunity to avoid the situation as possible as his mind raced. However, each possibility ended up discounted as soon as it came up. He couldn’t run off to home, she would just track him down and light his bed on fire when he slept. The Boardwalk was hardly an option on a cold day like this; he’d get frostbite and then be toasted. Ugh, there’s just no way out of this is there? he reflected. He reached the opened the door and stepped out into the snow, the chill wind feeling good as it massaged the places on his cheeks that had been singed by the flying sparks.

Then the door closed, and he was out alone against the burning demon of fire. He steeled himself as he pulled his wool coal tight about him. His eyes, still green, quickly found and held her hard, hateful gaze that seemed as if it were attempting to smite him with a look. He looked down, smoothing out a few wrinkles in his linen shirt, and then calmly resumed the battle of stares. “Well, I am here, which is probably more than you expect of me.” He bit his tongue to stop himself from saying any more, not wanting to enter into a shouting match out here in the snow where only a few passing animals would witness his slaughter. There was just no use in theatrics if there was no audience.

[Cara]

Cara smiled wickedly, "not really," Cara replied as she curled her fingers into her right hand. She lifted her hand so that it was only a few inches away from her chin, and began to expect her nails. Berus didn't know it, but he certainly wasn't as unpredictable as he wanted himself to appear; in fact, Cara found him rather predictable. "Much like most other men, you chose the more private option," Cara began to explain. "You knew that you would get into a fight, and would more than likely, stand no chance whatsoever." Cara lowered her hand and looked up at Berus again. "Which is a rather fair assumption. After all, you don't stand a chance Snowsong." Cara's eyes flashed playfully as she continued to taunt Berus. "Thus, you came out here, in order to make less of a fool of yourself. After all, I'm the only one who will witness your defeat." Cara shrugged, "unless you count the animals, but, most of them should be asleep by now. Or busy hunting and what not. So I suppose that just leaves the two of us," Cara finished. Cara had begun walking towards Berus in slow, even, rather confident steps. When she was standing only a foot away, she raised her right hand and cupped her fingers. She ran her palm slowly over Berus' right cheek. She could feel him shivering; but whether or not that was the cold or her touch remained uncertain. Cara was smiling playfully, enjoying every moment of this. "Now Berus, you have yet another choice to make," Cara practically cooed. "Would you like to simply hand yourself over, or would you prefer to play a sort of game? You can either stand there and let the inevitable happen, you can put up a fight, or... and this is my personal favorite, I can count to ten. Very, very slowly." Cara paused as she waited for some sort of response from him. "When the number ten has been reached, then the real fun begins," Cara explained, her voice regaining its typical icy edge. Cara lowered her right hand, and returned it to her side. "For when ten is reached, the game begins. Ten is the magical number that signals the beginning of the chase." Cara's smile only grew wider, and more menacing as she spoke. "We both know that fire is my friend, and that I love to practice my magic, don't we? Well, what do you say to being a sort of... moving target?" Cara asked, her tone cold, but seemingly amused with the idea she had come up with. "The ten seconds or so will merely be to give you a bit of a head start." Cara paused. "We both know you'll need it." Cara leaned in a little and whispered, "we both know this will be far more fun if it's a bit of a challenge." She moved her face away again, and took a few steps backwards, and away from Berus to give him some room. Cara then began to concentrate on her djed, and soon she felt a tingling in her fingertips. She looked down at her right hand, and noticed a translucent light blue ball of res hovering above her hand. She ignited the outside of the orb instantly, as if to show Berus that she wasn't joking. As soon as she had, she turned back to Berus, "care to dance?" she asked with an evil laugh, before she hurled the ball at Berus' feet, instantly melting a pile of freshly fallen, glistening white snow. The effects of her magic were starting to play on Cara's delicate features. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she seemed slightly crazed. She was overcome by a mixture of emotions- power and euphoria, the hint of a chase. A fight which only she could win, for she was the one setting the stage. Cara tilted her head up to the sky, closed her eyes, and let the snow fall over the sides of her face, and onto her thin frame. She raised her arms so they hovered by the sides of her head. Cara's muscles were tense. She looked like she were about to pray, or perhaps even scream up at the night sky. But, instead, the young sorceress cackled as her heart pounded in her chest. Tonight she was out for blood. The thrill of the chase. She sniffed the air hungrily; and was certain she could sense the bard's fear. After a minute, Cara lowered her arms, and turned her head back to Berus. She opened her eyes and simply smiled. "Perhaps you should start running," Cara hissed. OOCI am tempted to scream, "Run, Forestt, RUN!"

[Berus]

Berus nodded curtly to Cara, accepting all of her words without more than a creeped-out shiver. His eyes widened a bit at her transformation, however, as she changed from a dark, dangerous, yet beautiful woman to a rather horrendous looking witch who really seemed like she would enjoy setting someone on fire. He got the rather disturbing image of her tearing apart his limbs and cooking them on the magical fire and he was forced to shake his head to dispel the horrible sight. Surely she is not that depraved… he pleaded with himself. She must have some family of some sort that cares about her, and she them, so she must not act so always. Perhaps she is just angered by the fact I did not hold up my side of the bargain? Berus thought to himself, trying to discover the reason behind her truly alien anger towards him and rather odd hunger to see him in pain. Another look into her blood-shot eyes, though, swept away those thoughts and left him with only the conclusion that she was a blood-sucking witch.

Berus, at her bidding, turned around and started marching slowly through the snow. Behind him, he thought he could hear her begin her count. He imagined the words being spat from her mouth, saliva dripping from her mouth with every syllable that her forked tongue managed to hiss past her fangs. He knew he was exaggerating the image just a bit but he couldn’t force himself to look back. The woman was truly going to try and send a fireball into his back! And she was going to go through the trouble of chasing him down so that she could see the look of horror on his face as it was mutilated! She was going to enjoy the pain she inflicted! Berus, completely unused to this type of behavior, found himself at a loss for what he should do, despite that his mind was rushing so quickly to think of a way out of this mess.

He stumbled slightly, cursing under his breath and blaming his cheap beer, and tripped. He fell down hard into the snow, but managed to turn it into a roll that sent him back up to his feet. Luckily enough, he was able to shield his head as he fell so that his eyes would not behold the huntress whose eyes he could still feel burning into his back, despite that he was now many paces away. His face burned from the frosty snow that refused to let go of his face and he now had to clench his fists at his sides to keep them from going numb with cold. He should have listened to the elderly folks when they told him that he needed to avoid extremes, such as in front of the roaring fire and then face first down into the freezing snow. Luckily, he was able to blame his boots and his beer for his fall this time.

He looked up, seeing the snow all around him. Several coniferous trees waved in the freezing wind a short distance away and small, brave animals dashed around in the snow as they sought food and shelter. Avanthal was a quiet city most of the time, despite the abundance of musicians and bards such as himself, due to its ever present, vast blanket of white that covered the whole of the city from dawn till dusk, excepting when a freeze came and turned the blanket into a rock-hard, deadly slippery surface. Though Berus dreamed of traveling to other lands where the sun shined and heroes fought, he had to admit that he loved his home city. Though it was cold and others might consider it barren, he found it to be quite a beautiful, peaceful place… A place good enough to die in, maybe.

Berus shook his head again to get himself back on task. His mind kept wandering off, thinking of the horror behind him and lingering over every distraction! Now he was even contemplating his death? What was he thinking! Get yourself together Berus… Come on, you’ve got to have some way of defending yourself. Berus glanced around, eyes seeking every possibility and any opportunity to give himself an edge in the coming conflict. The witch certainly had the upper hand with her fire and evil nature, but the bard was crafty and quick-thinking.

Fight fire with water… Berus thought, his eyes darkening to a deep brown. Where can I find my water in a place like this… There’s too much darn snow! He almost stamped his foot, but then he remembered that he was hastily retreating from the witch, and the more distance he could put between himself and the witch, the better off he’d be. Sure, he would have gotten farther if he’d ran, but she probably wanted him to do that as it would tire him out and make him a much easier target once she caught up to him. He glanced right and left and saw only giant snow banks. Not even a friggin’ tree to hide behind or a stick or something to beat her off with! Berus panicked a little, sensing that his time was almost up.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. He glanced around a bit longer, at the large snow banks, and then was hit by a sudden inspiration. Well, it’s not usually used as a weapon, but it’s never failed before. Besides, surprises are my allies, Berus thought maliciously, eyes sparkling back to green. Then, sensing that his ten seconds were up, he turned about abruptly to face the witch. I’d better act fast if I’m going to pull this off and still keep my hair. “Ugh,” he shivered, considering what he’d look like with no hair. “Creepy bald midget,” he muttered, the comical image cheering him up somewhat. The sight of the witch sobered him a bit, however, for he still saw his death in her eyes. Or at least his dismemberment. Perhaps he’d make a delicious barbeque? I hope so.

OOCYou can barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, saute it. Dey's uh, bard kabobs, bard creole, bard gumbo. There's pineapple bard, lemon bard, coconut bard, pepper bard, bard soup, bard stew, bard salad, bard and potatoes, bard burger, bard sandwich. That-that's about it.

[Cara]

Cara laughed as she watched him leave. Such a foolish boy, and so filled with fear. This chase is sure to be quite the thrill, Cara's brain mused. Cara gave Berus a few moments to disappear before she began her countdown. "Ten seconds before Berus dies. Nine seconds." Cara laughed. "Eight seconds. Seven seconds." Cara laughed again. "Five seconds." Oh good for you, you skipped number six. "That was on purpose," Cara whispered to herself, before continuing her count. "Four seconds... three, two, and one." Cara smiled wickedly as she ran her right hand through her hair before lurching forward. "And so the games begin." The night was growing darker. A series of large, dark clouds had rolled in, and was blocking one's view of the milky moon. It was as though the sky were helping to set the mood for Cara's sick and twisted game. Cara, of course, didn't mind the darkening sky at all. It just made the night all the more dangerous; the chase all the harder. Of course she could still see Berus' large, sloppy footprints through the snow, but, it was far harder to make them out than if it had been lighter. The wind was howling around her, whipping her hair wildly about her face, and causing her to look all the more crazed, and generally bloodthirsty. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," Cara called with a slight laugh, as she followed the trail of footprints through the snow. She didn't exactly expect Berus to come out and greet her, nor did she want him to, that would ruin all the fun. But it was fun to call to him nonetheless, to signal her coming, and his destruction; which was inching closer and closer by the second. Cara could practically smell it. The end of the game; their round of adult hide and seek. A part of her felt so very young and innocent again; but most of that feeling was stomped out by the fact that she was slowly propelling herself forward so she could have a little bit of fireball throwing practice on a moving target before she tucked herself in for sleep. Cara stopped for a moment in her tracks and sniffed the air. Was there something there? Something more than the scent of freshly fallen snow? Cara smiled, she was drawing closer. To the end of the tracks; she could sense it. Cara continued to walk, taking the time to step into each of Berus' footprints. Something about doing so just made the chase all the more fun. As if by retracing his steps, Cara could feel his fear within her body. Feel his heart pounding, his palms sweaty, his eyes growing sticky with fear. His mind racing, filled with thoughts of how to escape her wrath. It was as though those few steps allowed her to be both predator and prey. Something that Cara enjoyed immensely, she loved knowing that she had achieved a desired effect with her growing level of insanity; trepidation, a loss of hope now that there seemed to be no way out. Eventually, the tracks came to an end. There was nothing left to lead her. Cara looked up from her feet, and there Berus was, seemingly waiting for the inevitable. That's too bad, a longer chase would have been far more fun. Cara smiled wickedly as she concentrated on her djed once more. Soon enough, an orb of translucent light blue djed could be seen hovering above each of her palms. "Now Berus," she laughed evilly, "what would you like me to aim for first? Or would you like to turn around and run some more? In which case, it'll be a pleasant surprise." Cara smiled, her eyes were flashing menacingly at Berus, yet they seemed to hint at the fact that she saw this as nothing more than a game. Something that Berus had been foolish enough to get himself sucked into.

[Berus]

Berus tensed as the witch drew nearer, both fists occupied by small balls of ice and ready to launch the instant he saw a hurling ball of burning fire. His eyes flashed blue as he strained them to see through the partial darkness so as to not be caught unawares. He had to fire before she did else he would probably be going home missing a vital part of his body. Or maybe not going home at all.

Then there she was, standing there in the snow, dark eyes seeking his death. All for one unpaid debt. Berus subconsciously took one step back at the thought. Shaking himself, he forced himself to plant his feet down into the snow so that he wouldn’t retreat and show weakness. However, his eyes flicked to the surrounding snowdrifts as he left open the option for a hasty dodge into their relative, if cold, protection. He wondered exactly how well a couple feet of snow would stand against a fire. Probably well enough to stop one of the smaller ones but perhaps not more than that, he figured. I’ve got no other options, so I’ll just have to try it.

The woman got close enough that she was able to taunt him, reveling in her ‘game.’ Her wicked smile inspired more chills to go creeping down his spine than any amount of mere cold he’d ever experienced. It contrasted sharply with the hot fire that burned in her eyes and soon-to-be-flaming balls of light that floated above her palms. She was having a very, very good time out here on her ‘hunt,’ as if she was a tiger who’d cornered its prey. Now she was going to play with her food a bit before eating it.

Little did she know that her food was armed with snowballs.

Berus’s eyes scanned her as he resolutely refused to reply. He sought out the easiest yet most effective targets, reasoning that he’d need to make every shot count if he was going to keep his hair. It was a good thing he’d been practicing with these snowballs all his life or he’d have just turned tail and ran, sacrificing his butt so that his face could survive. He figured that her hands, which held the balls of light, were probably bad targets to fire at as they were easily maneuvered out of the way. Her head was also an unlikely target as people were rather vigorous in their defense of their faces. That left her stomach and her legs, each with its own pros and cons. If he could land a shot at her legs she might fall down in the snow and give him a chance to escape, but they smaller targets. However, a shot at her stomach might stun her and knock the wind out of her.

Berus cursed under his breath. Why did I have to go to the Tavern tonight! Berus cocked his hand back to throw, ready to leap to the side and out of the way of her first attack. Then he would send his own counterattack speeding right at her before she could recover from her throw. A good plan, by Berus’s reckoning, but it really depended quite heavily on his ability to dodge…