In the Shadow of the Watchtower (Evarette, Closed)

[Vanator]

Syna's winter sun had descended more than halfway between its zenith and the horizon. Avas and Ruhl contended for the remains of the stew clinging to the sides of the cooking pot. The hounds growled playfully as the blackened pot rolled noisily between them. Backlash, having grown weary of her feigned haughtiness, allowed Ivar to approach her and the lean Strider and towering Nightwalker grazed peacefully together nearby. The two Drykas, their meal finished, relaxed by a small but warming fire.

Evarette and Vanator had passed the time in casual conversation related mostly to the simple tasks required to prepare the meal. Evarette had begun the fire, while Vanator sliced some tubers, vegatables and pieces of spice-preserved rabbit meat. There were spans of silence between them, at first a bit awkward for Vanator. But as the meal progress, those brief pauses in conversation were occupied with defending their meals from the dogs, who vied for attention from the humans. Avas was quite taken with Evarette and had settled down in a large furry pile at the woman's feet, his large canine head resting on her boot. Ruhl emitted a quiet whine, seeing her brother had already taken a prime spot by the visitor, and dejectedly hunkered down next to her master.

Vanator glanced at Evarette as she reached down to pat the lazy Luvanor. During the meal, he had decided it was quite fine with him that Evarette had stayed. As precious as the memorials were that he kept here, to share it with someone in the present, even a stranger, brought a living quality to the tower. His pilgrimages to the Watchtower were like a visit to a grave. The hollow, cold stone building was only able to host the phantoms of the past. The practice was bittersweet, the memories cherished but the tower and its surroundings silent and painfully void of life. But Evarette had brought a vibrancy to his retreat, her light laughter and feminine voice breathed life into a dead place. For that he was grateful.

As he swallowed his last hunk of stew meat, he set his wooden bowl aside and raised his arm to wipe his mouth. Halfway through the process of dragging his lips across his cloak sleeve, his faux pas was realized and he froze, eyes locked on Evarette's. If a woman's eyes could laugh, he was sure her's were. Shyly grinning and averting her gaze, he quickly stood to his feet.

As Vanator clicked his tongue, his buckskin Strider promptly trotted to his side. The two hunting dogs were instantly alert, their heads erect as they watched their master with anticipation. They would not be disappointed as the Drykas reached into his saddle bag, retrieving two curious items. Each consisted of a leather ball attached to a length of rope ending in a loop. At the sight of the playthings, the hounds leapt to their feet, tails wagging fervently. Vanator thumped one against the leather armor encasing his chest. The sound brought the dogs racing to his side, bounding up and down in excitement.

Laughing, he looked back at Evarette. "I think these lazy dogs need some exercise, would you like to join us?". He turned towards the open grassland and took one of the balls by the rope. "Ruhl, " he barked at the first dog. The hound appeared instantly at his heels. Swinging the ball in a circle several times over his head, Vanator released it and sent it flinging out into the grass. Ruhl immediately exploded after the toy, returning only moments later with the ball gripped in her jaws. His master patted the animal roughly but affectionately and the ball dropped at his feet.

Turning again to Evarette, he held out the second ball and rope. "Would you like to play with your new furry friend?" Avas was already watching her intently, curled tail twitching in anticipation.
Winging Ruhl's ball again out into the open plain, Vanator posed another question to Evarette, his eyes still tracking the tawny hunter running through the grass.. "I believe I shared with you my clan and pavilion. May I ask to whose clan and pavilion you belong?"

[Evarette Karmine]

Evarette grinned down at Avas, taking the ball and rope from Vanator's outstretched hand. She turned it over between her hands, notching a pair of fingers about the rope experimentally. Avas seemed to anticipate her motive, for she began to dance back eagerly. Eva could not help but laugh, slinging the ball overhead as Vanator had done, and releasing it after it had built up some momentum. Ava lunged after it, slender legs devouring the earth rapidly... How fast she is! Eva marveled. She had never spent much time among the hunting dogs, preferring instead to trail after her brother and seek guidance in horsemanship and what little combat skills she could glean from his training. However, the bond between master and canine fascinated her all the same, as akin as it was to the bond shared with the beautiful Striders that thundered across their plains...

Vanator's question drew her eyes towards him momentarily. It was not entirely unexpected. After all, after so much time spent in one anothers' presence, they could only remain strangers for so long. All the same, Eva hesitated, her indigo depths following the graceful hound as it returned it's prize to her feet, tongue lolling in a grin of sheer joy. She plucked the ball from the ground, and gave it another toss before answering.

"I am of the Topaz Clan, but my family's Pavilion was lost when my father left the clan long ago," her eyes studied the horizon, watching the last rays of twilight paint the sky in hushed tones of lavender and gold. There was nothing so beautiful as a sunset stretching out over the Sea of Grass..."When he returned, he carried with him Dorian and myself. I was very young...I don't remember much of what came before, and my father would never tell me where I was born," a wry smile lit her features at the memory...Evarette had assumed he'd never told her because she was too likely to set off in search of her birthplace...and in all honesty, Eva couldn't blame him. She'd possessed such a wild spirit as a child, as hungry for new places as the wind itself.

"When my father and brother left two years ago, I went to live with my uncle in his Pavilion. He'd made arrangements with my father to see to it I was taken care of and married off to an acceptable family," her tone had taken on a hint of bitterness. She liked her uncle and his family well enough, but having been raised apart from the strict guidelines and training asserted upon the women of a Pavilion, Evarette found herself lacking in both skills and enthusiasm. She'd missed her father, and most of all, her brother. Few were the days she'd accept being confined to the Pavilion and participating in family chores. Instead, she could often be found on the outskirts of the Clan's current settlement, scouring the horizon for signs of her family. "When my brother returned, I knew something was wrong. He wouldn't speak of my father, he barely said anything at all. He was barely there a week before he vanished again...leaving Ivar behind."

Avas had arrived again, panting with exhilaration, to drop the ball and rope again at Eva's feet. Diverted from her past, Eva spared a laugh for the eager canine, bending to retrieve the ball again for another throw. She let her hand fall across the hound's silken ears, and Avas swiped her tongue across Eva's palm before circling back again, ready to dash after the ball once again. After the toss, Eva glimpsed Vanator with the hint of a self-conscious smile. He'd asked for where she belonged, and she'd given him quite the history...though in her defense, it was hard to explain one without the other. Shoulders hefted in a shrug, as though shaking the details of her past aside, and Eva once again averted her sapphire depths to the bounding canine as she plunged into the thick grassland..."So, there you have it. I am of the Topaz Clan, but no longer belong to a Pavilion. Perhaps it is for the best..."

[Vanator]

Vanator continued the cycle of toss and retrieve as Ruhl tirelessly bolted through the grass in a game that engrossed the hound completely. Vanator, however, had relegated the activity to a mindless operation as his attention was drawn to Evarette, who continued to toss Avas' leather ball while she spoke.

His question was answered quite simply in the fact that she was originally of the Topaz Clan. Vanator did not know many of those Drykas, but he knew their reputation as some of the finest horsemen in Cyphrus. The Sapphire clansman wondered how well Evarette fared in Ivar's saddle. As Evarette continued to acomodate Avas in the game of fetch, the last of her sentence sobered Vanator. What was a Drykas without a Pavilion?

The tone of Evarette's reply hinted that there was something more pending on the tip of her tongue. He detected the woman's hesitation, her attention drifting from the panting Luvanor to the explosion of color at the distant horizon. Evarette's youthful face softened, a subtle smile traced her lips, its origin no doubt a distant memory. He saw her draw in a breath, and she began to uncover a bit more about her past.

Vanator had a reputation of being a confident leader and ruthless warrior. There were those, however, who had witnessed another side of the Ankal's heir. The tragedies that had befallen his family exposed a vein of compassion and occasional dispondency. Evarette's tale struck these emotional chords, the reason unclear to Vanator. Maybe he saw in Evarette the isolation that he knew Kavala and Akela felt, despite his desperate attempts to draw his sisters into the family. It was always a deep disappointment that they were never accepted as true Drykas. Upsetting even more was that fact that his sisters' succumbed to that prejudice.

Vanator's umber eyes, glinting specks of amber in the deepening sunset, admired Evarette. Though he felt a sadness for her, she grinned an honest grin, shrugging as if to convey an acceptance of her fate and a resolution to prevent it from corrupting her present. Vanator's gaze fell to the ground, swept with a sense of humility in Evarette's presence. He experienced a welling in his heart, as he realize he had not found the strength to accomplish what this slight young woman had, the capacity to move on with her life. She had not forgotten, had even purposed to find her brother, but she had not allowed her losses to steal her joy. And she did it without the support of a Pavilion. At that instant Vanator found profound respect for Evarette.

He cleared his throat, straightened his back and regained his composure. He attempted to keep his manner casual, though he had ceased from tossing Ruhl's ball, much to the dog's displeasure. "Evarette, to think you have gone through so much, then to strike out on your own, without the support of a family," he smiled at her, this one less gregarious and more warm and subtle, "I can't think of a greater example of the strength of the Drykas spirit."

[Evarette Karmine]

Avas skidded to a halt before Evarette as the last words of Vanator's statement stilled in the air between them. Her eyes crept towards him abjectly, and she parted with a soft shake of her head, the flash of a smile flitting briefly to life. His praise was flattering, but she did not feel worthy of it. If anything, she felt utterly lost...caught up in the folly of chasing after her brother's whereabouts through a land ahead she knew next to nothing about. "A better example might have been one more prepared," she suggested laughingly, turning the throwing ball over in her hands. There were times yet she'd wondered how she even made it this far. She'd happened upon an extraordinary amount of luck, crossing new acquaintances who were not only friendly, but helpful as well...and Vanator was undoubtedly among them.

Avas pitched her voice in a whistling whine, and Eva relented with another toss to the ball, her laughter spilling out in the hound's wake. "Besides, what choice did I have?" Her eyes cut to him slyly, glinting with remnant of her laughter and the desire to lighten the mood. "If I'd stayed behind, I'd be some poor fool's obligatory wife, stuffed into a new Pavilion so long as my dear uncle fulfills his promise. No, thank you...I'll keep to the hills and new horizons!" She beamed up at him, the final rays of sunset ripening the illusive midnight shade of her eyes.

In times like this, it was easy to forget what lay ahead of her. A foreign city, a sea of intermingled races and customs, something on far grander of scale than anything she'd come across in Riverfall. Here, standing in the midst of the green ocean of her homeland, laughing alongside Vanator, it was difficult to grasp that she was on the brink of leaving it all behind. Typical Evarette...she had always been the type to focus on the present, to tackle what lay at hand and take one day at a time...All things in their season, her father used to say...It was something Eva took a little too close to heart, perhaps.

Avas returned, and Evarette knelt to curl her fingers behind the canine's ear in a much appreciated scritching. She canted her head to peer up at Vanator, one auburn brow notched curiously. Eyes that had been previously hardened by her revelations of the past had since been softened by the laughter she had rediscovered in the presence of his company, and that of his hounds. "So, Vanator...shall you be returning to your people in the morning? Or does your pilgrimage out here hold a few more destinations in store?"

[Vanator]

Returning her gracious smile, Vanator was grateful Evarette had so deflty brightened the mood again. He caught her gaze as she responded lightly, her darkening azure eyes betraying shifting emotions that the Drykas man could not readily read, but certainly reached deeper than her glib response let on.

The Luvanor hound returned to Evarette again, ball in mouth, drawing her attention away for a moment, but Vanator's gaze lingered. Studying the form of her movement, the line of her profile, he found it foolish to deny the fact that the young woman was attractive, possessing both a lovely comeliness and a warm charisma. He did not dwell on the matter, only allowing himself to appreciate Evarette's femininity for a few breathes. The nature of their encounter, quite accidental as opposed to the typical arranged meetings Vanator was subject to, may have contributed to his comfort and pleasure in the presence of this particular Drykas woman. There was no doubt, however, that he found something unique and intriguing about Evarette.

Ruhl abruptly startled Vanator from his musings with a sharp yelp. The hunting dog began to tug on the leather ball hanging from his master's hand, then the powerful canine yanked on the toy violently, almost pulling the man off balance. Vanator laughed loudly, staggered back to a firm stance and began a tug-of-war with his growling companion. The struggle ended as Vanator relented his grasp on the rope. Ruhl emitted a bark of victory, then dropped the contested toy at Vanator's feet, tail wagging and head cocked. After a quick scratch of the dog's ear, the Drykas lfited the ball by the rope one more time, whirling it over his head and heaving it as hard as he could out into the waving grass. Undeterred, Ruhl bolted again after the prize.

"I will be heading back to the clan tomorrow. We are making our way to Endrykas." There was only a hint of disappointment in his voice, something he himself did not detect. Seeing the lengthening shadow of the tower stretch across the expanse towards them, he turned to Evarette, the golden flecks almost luminous in his deepening auburn eyes. "It will be dark soon, and I need to set up camp. I would be honored if you would stay with us. If you are comfortable." Vanator wanted to be clear that his intentions were nothing but honorable. Stating such outright, however, would only create an awkward tension. "You know it would be safer, greater numbers and all." He added, giving her a sincere smile before shifting his eyes to the grassland hound racing swifty towards him.

[Evarette Karmine]

His disappointment was noted, though he seemed to have brushed it aside. That sense of pity returned, a twinge at the back of her mind, not unlike the itch that burned her fingers when she witnessed a horse confined to bridle and bit. But, what could she do? ...His bridle was of his own making.

His invitation was warmly received, and Evarette dismissed the urge to laugh aside the potential to misinterpret his intentions. Oh, what would Uncle have to say to that? What wouldn't he? The thought of her Uncle, a man bound by familial traditions and strict codes of conduct, reacting to such an offer made to his niece amused Eva to no end. Suppressing the urge to smile, Eva bit her lip and rose to her feet, dusting her hands against her thighs. "Of course. Safety in numbers," she bentto collect the ball and ropefrom Avas as she returned it loyally to her feet, thanking her with a rub between the ears. "Thank you, Vanator, we will be happy to stay..." she allowed herself a small smile, tossing him a sidelong glance before turning to search the plain for the dark hulk of her steed.

Ivar loomed several hundred paces away, grazing contentedly alongside the Strider mare. He seemed to feel her eyes on her, for he brought his broad head up and directed a level stare in her direction. The dim light of twilight seemed to be swallowed by his dark pelt, and he stood out in striking contrast against the frost-silvered grasses that rose to his knees. The look between them was supported by the span of several heartbeats...before Ivar lowered his head once again. Instead of taking his next step in the direction of the mare, his approach was angled back towards camp. As though some silent cue had been given, the Nightwalker seemed to understand it was time to retire.

The last sliver of sun slipped beneath the horizon, and Evarette folded her arms tight against her abdomen. The distance from the warm fireside was finally beginning to take it's toll...With Avas cavorting at her heels, the intensity of her eyes still pinned intently to the ball and rope, Eva turned and strode back towards the fire. The ball was offered up to Vanator before she returned to the circle of warmth spread by the licking flames as they devoured their bed of limbs and coal...She'd decided to thaw out a bit, indigo eyes watching Vanator intently as he made arrangements to build his camp...her own could wait until she could feel her fingers, surely. "Do you think you'll ever reach beyond the plains of Cyphrus, Vanator? ...I cannot help but think you'd enjoy the sights of Riverfall, at least."

[Vanator]

A flurry of sparks ascended towards the deepening violet sky as Vanator tossed another precious piece of wood on the fire, stoking it to offer both light and heat in the waning twilight. Evarette had moved to warm herself by the fire, both hounds sprawled lazily at her feet. To his surprise, his typically aloof Strider had followed on Ivar's heels like a giddy girl as the great Nightwalker returned at his rider's unspoken call. So man, and woman, and beast gathered within the circle of orange light. Beyond the feeble reach of the flame's illumination, the frosty grass was tinged in the subtle sapphire hue of the great Watchtower's stone.

Leaving his new friend to shake the chill of the falling night, Vanator unpacked his tent. Once he had set up his temporary dwelling, he would assist Evarette. He would be happy to set her tent up alone, if she would allow. He paused, then left his tent in a pile. Retrieving a small pot and a waterskin from his saddlebags, he crossed to Evarette's seat by the fire. He bent is knees and laid the pot and skin next to the woman. He met her gaze, noting the dark depth of the color in her eyes amid the dim light. He had decided that the rapport between the two Drykas would permit him to forgo more rigid courtesies and ask for her help. Besides, he already knew her well enough to know she would gladly assist him. "Would you mind putting some water on to heat? I think some hot tea would be in order tonight." He smiled again, a gesture that he seemed unable to curb in Evarette's presence.

Returning to the tent, Evarette's question registered in his mind, and as he went about assembly the canvas and hide structure, he pondered the possibilities she inferred. "Of course, I had thought what it would be like to travel beyond the plains of the Drykas," He found the words odd, having never heard him speak them out loud to anyone, though he had recited them to himself on many occassions. "To see great cities like Riverfall, or even Syliras. I cannot imagine a place made of stone, one where the walls never moved in the wind, or that an enemy's arrow could not penetrate. I'm not sure I could live in such a place, but I have thought about seeing them." he paused, a tent pole in one hand, "Maybe one day I will. Perhaps, with courage such as yours, I will leave Cyphrus to find my sisters." His eyes fell to Evarette again. She would see that he was not mocking her, but spoke out of admiration. Also, even in the failing light, she would not miss the concern in his eyes at the mention of his sisters, before he cast down his gaze.

Vanator returned to his preparations, thrusting the pole under the tent and raising it up. He lifted the mood with a quick laugh. "Besides, I should have plenty of time to travel, my father is as fit as a Seme, and I should not have to don his mantle for many years to come!"

Vanator finished staking the tent and dragged his saddlebags closer, still entertaining the concept of traveling. Could he leave? Could he leave his duties? It would be a struggle between desire and duty, should he ever serioulsy consider it. moving to his piled belongings, Vanator retreived a small pouch and walked back over to Evarette, handing her the small leather bag. "If you would set the tea to steeping, I would be honored to assemble you tent as well. While I do that, maybe you could regale me with some of the things that makes Evarette formally-of -the-Topaz-Clan happy." The Drykas man grinned as he tested her humor. He had a feeling her good nature would permit him such jibing. Sincerely, though, he hoped she would allow him to make her camp as well Both of his requests were a bit personal, he knew. But he had left the subject of her happiness open ended to allow her the freedom to speak only as she felt comfortable. He truly did want to learn more about Evarette, to plumb further the depths of this particularly interesting woman.

[Evarette Karmine]

Taking up the pot with an obliging smile, Evarette filled it before laying it to rest upon the flat of a stone near the fire, close enough so that it may soak up the residual heat. She tucked the waterskin aside, her eyes trailing Vanator as he unraveled canvas and poles, laying the frame for his tent...all the while responding to her query. Evarette nodded as he expressed curious wonderment for the stone walls of such cities...It had taken her days to grow moderately accustomed to the walled-in spaces of Riverfall. In the end, the place was still as much of a maze to her as ever. The only places she'd managed to wring comfort from were the stables and the shore...

Ah, the shore...and the endless stretch of water beyond it. The memory of the salted air, the sand, the tossing waves was still so potent in the back of Evarette's mind.

Eva decided she liked hearing Vanator speak. The rich timbre of his words carried so much more than meaning behind them...a sense of longing, when he approached the subject of travel...a twinge of regret and concern following mention of his sisters. Eva imagined she could see such things cross his features were she to even close her eyes.

His laughter encouraged a bit of her own, and she stretched out her fingertips to graze the side of the little pot, testing it's temperature. A small plume of steam had begun to rise from over it's lip, suggesting it was nearly ready. Vanator returned with the tea, and Eva smiled graciously up at him as he offered to make her camp as well. "Yes, thank you Vanator," her indigo depths narrowed in mock reproach at his bantering question, and she busied herself with setting the tea to steep before supplying him with an answer....What made her happy?

"Well, good company, for one..." Eva's sapphire eyes flitted to him briefly at mention of this, and her hand lowered to caress the silken skulls of the two Luvanor hounds sprawled contently at her feet. A half-hearted flicker possessed their tails momentarily, before they sighed and resettled themselves. "New friends," she continued, her voice softened..."and new places. A purpose in life also contributes greatly to my well-being. While I certainly hope I find my brother, this former Topaz-Clan member will undoubtedly find herself at a loss for purpose when that day arrives." A contemplative grin toyed with the corners of her mouth, and she leaned in close to drink in the sweet scent of the steeping herbs.

As Evarette's eyes crept up to study the star-strewn sky overhead, she murmured wonderingly..."A friend of mine, Kavala, has a new animal healing facility in Riverfall...perhaps she will have work for me, if I manage to find my way back home."

[Vanator]

A visage of relief crossed Vanator's face as Evarette gladly accepted his offer, his quirky question and jibe apparently well received, if her mischievously narrowed eyes were any indication. If Vanator had learned anything yet about the young Drykas woman, it was that she was disarmingly good-natured.

stepping away from the fire, Vanator approached the Nightwalker slowly, raising his hand in a peaceful offering to the towering black stallion. The beast stretched forth its head and snuffled at the gesture, releasing a cloud of warm steam from its flared nostrils. The Drykas did not budge as Ivar sampled his skin with its lips, tugged at the sleeve of his cloak with its teeth. Seemingly satisfied with Vanator's harmlessness, the horse simply snorted loudly and returned to plucking blades of hoary grass.

Van removed the tent from Evarette's supplies, a structure smaller than his own and simpler to construct. He worked to position it at just the right distance from the fire, and set to assembling it as she answered his question. He had asked about the things that made her happy, afterwards cursing himself for such an inane inquiry. But Evarette replied admirably.

Her answer revealed something about her, that she relished human interaction, sincere and meaningful. The things that pleased Evarette were aspects of life that brought substance...relationships and purpose. He wondered how often she was able to enjoy the former, while she insisted on pursuing the latter. Vanator wasn't sure if he would have answered the question the same way, though pondering Evarette's words lead him to conclude he wished he could.

Pounding a stake into the ground with the back of his hand ax, Vanator almost missed Evarette' hushed last words. A name registered at some subconscious level, but his preoccupied masculine mind simply scooped up the mention again of Riverfall. "What is Riverfall like, would you be happy living among all those Akalak?"

He had only seen a few of the giants of that race, who occasionally met with his father to trade. They were strikingly handsome and physically near perfection, or so the giddy women of the pavilion had giggled to him. More than one Drykas male snuck an envious glance at the appearance of the blue-skinned titans. But Vanator did not envy their physiques. There was a sadness to the race, he thought. There were no Akalak women. They had to entice women of other races to bear their children. The concept was foreign and slighly disturbing to the Drykas man. There were many Drykas women, so many that the men often took more than one wife. Life in the Sea of Grass was dangerous, and the perils took thier toll on the male population, leaving an inbalance of men versus women.

Vanator paused in his pounding, the name rising again to tickle his conscious. "Wait...." His eyes narrowed, his brow knitted together. He glared at Evarette, gold specked irises gleaming in the fire. It was not a threatening gaze, but intensely inquisitive. "Who did you say your friend was in Riverfall?"

[Evarette Karmine]

As Vanator moved to retrieve her tent, Eva turned to watch the exchange between him and Ivar. The stallion was rarely accepting with strangers, though she had plenty of reason to trust the Drykas man's approach would cause him no concern. Sure enough, Ivar took him in stride...and Evarette had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with the Strider mare he'd been shadowing all afternoon. Grinning to herself, she pulled her knees to her chest and draped her arms about them...

"Riverfall is...well, beautiful. Though I felt out of place, it was no fault to the community. I'd never been beyond the Sea of Grass before," she shook her head softly at the memory of her first arrival beneath the city walls...what a spectacle! Though her stay in Riverfall had been brief, she had grown fond of the city and it's people. "The Akalak are a strange race, but they are very protective of their women, and treated me well enough." Her shoulders twitched in a shrug, and she dropped one hand to Avas's chin as the hound tilted her head back to gaze up at Eva sleepily..."I cannot boast of being well traveled, but I can think of no safer place to stay."

Indeed, the city with it's stone walls and Akalak guards was a far cry from the savage plains of Cyphrus. It dwelt within Eva's mind as some sort of sanctuary, for more than once she'd run across women who'd been freed from a life of slavery. Such women were often in the process of healing, both physically and mentally, and there was no end to the aid in Riverfall...so it seemed.

Evarette looked up as the pounding was arrested. She was surprised as Vanator's voice rose sharply, matched by the severity of his gaze as he met her questioning eyes. "Her name is Kavala...she is Konti, I believe?" Eva's auburn brows furrowed, and she canted her head to one side...dark coils of hair spilling across one shoulder. She studied the Drykas man's stunned expression with a puzzled one of her own, wondering what the name harbored for him..."Do you know of her?"