New Beginnings (Sama'el, Denen)

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el merely nodded that Denen was fine, and when his friend was distracted by the stallion, he said, "He has pains in his ears sometimes, but it will pass. He prefers people not dwell upon it." But when Hek himself came over, he smiled ruefully. "I should not have said that. They will think you polite by comparison, but what will they think of me? At least I don't yet have a name to besmirch. But we both know you don't want that mongrel's blood mingling with those of your herd." After saluting Hek in the proper, respectful Drykas manner, he said, "We are honored by your invitation." He would let the man's wife tell him about the gift later rather than belaboring what was expected in good etiquette anyway. When he glanced back at Horse, it was difficult to control the pride that welled up within. Here was his oldest friend (not counting Eldon, who was his cousin-cum-brother), and he had broken the magnificent beast of most of the bad habits that had been trained into him and was turning him into a proper Drykas horse, if not a Strider. Horse was sixteen hands high, a silvery grey, and a bit more heavily muscled than the average Windrunner, losing a bit of the agility for more power, but the combination of his virtues and drawbacks had been sufficient to keep them alive in a dangerous world with only each other upon whom they could rely. "This is Horse," he signed, when he looked back at Hek. "We rode out of Sunberth like Zulrav's own servants, and managed to survive for two years, just the two of us, until we came back here. I may not know his lineage... he was imported into Sunberth and I never got a chance to learn his history... but his quality is obvious." He clicked his tongue and both horses trotted up to him, expecting their tack to be removed and, if they were lucky, a quick brush down so they would be absolutely comfortable until such time as they had to go home. Sama'el was earnest and his love for the beast showed both in his demeanor and the excellent health in which he kept the Windrunner, exercising him regularly even though he rode circuit on Dohaina. When she was with foal, he would have to rely upon Horse again.

[Mycroft]

“And that’s the unfortunate truth, isn’t it?” Hek signed, his smile losing a bit of life. It was absolutely true that Sama’el had no reputation to tarnish. The Ankal had actually used it to his advantage deliberately, the idea having formed as soon as he’d seen the young Sapphire clansman approaching. It was hardly an honorable thing to do, and Hek did feel a little guilty about it. ”But it served you, didn’t it? Perhaps you might think of using your limited impunity before you become shackled by a Pavilion name.” He smirked, only half serious. The Strider stallion in Denen’s company uttered a low snort as Horse plodded toward Hek and Sama’el, relieved that he’d been left alone and now had the boy to himself. To keep his attention from wandering, the stallion pushed his nose into the boy’s face, demanding to be pet. All four hooves shuffled uncomfortably, and the rope made of field grasses gave a light crackle as the stallion pulled at it. “He’s a little agitated that we…” a new voice that called from behind trailed off, belonging to Nallia. After dispatching the Emerald clansman, she was riding up on her Strider mare. The stallion was too busy demanding attention from Denen to give them notice. Nallia was so used to Hek, who could hear as well as anyone else. She slid off her mare and touched Denen’s shoulder, hoping not to startle him. She began to sign at him once he looked over. “He’s young blood. This is the first time we’ve decided to stud him. Some of our mares are coming into estrus and we have to keep the stallions separated. These are the ones we’re planning to breed. Even if he has some idea of what’s going on, I don’t think he likes being away from the ladies.” Nallia reached forward, stroking the stallion’s cheek. “He really seems to like you. Andine’s a little worried, actually. He’s like a son to her. Two others came in wanting to buy the Strider, but she turned them both down. Didn’t think they understood him well enough to tend to his needs. He’s very immature, this stallion. Acts like a spoiled child, starved for attention.” Nearby, Hek eyed Horse as he approached. It was almost immediately obvious to him that the Windrunner’s bloodline was not pure, based on the slightly muscular build. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, and the Ankal smiled. “Indeed it is. One of his parents was a mixed, I can see it. Windrunner and something else. Very, very smart. Windrunners have ankles like glass. This stallion here has some durability to him. I’d be interested to meet the man who bred him.” After walking around Horse a few more times, rubbing the scar on his neck thoughtfully, he nodded as he apparently reached some sort of silent conclusion. “Two years is remarkable. That’s quite the story. I’ve seen Windrunners before, I know they’re highly prized animals.” The Ankal turned to Sam. “I’ll have my wife Nallia look him over if you don’t mind us tying him out here with our other stallions. We have all of our stallions kept away from the herd at the moment, but these had been set apart for studding. She’ll take a look and we’ll negotiate your fee. Now come on, let’s head inside and see how far along dinner is. Bring Denen, as well. After our bellies are full, we’ll talk business, and I’ll show you our Seme. I’ll have Andine look at your Strider as well, but I wouldn’t dare suggest tying a bonded animal like that. Will she be all right, waiting outside?” Nallia drew away from Denen and came over to Horse, picking up a looped rope from her hip and gently patting Horse’s shoulder.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen wanted to throw his arms around the Strider's neck, so happy was he to see that he hadn't been sold. He gave his silent, shaking laugh as the stallion got up into his face, and pressed his own brow to that of the Strider. He ran a gentle hand down his neck and signed reassuringly to him. “Jealous, are we? Well, Horse isn't mine. He's just a good friend.” He looked down to the rope and clacked his tongue in a teasing scold. “Were you being naughty?” There was a smile marking his features that had been absent since Reth died. He turned to glance over his shoulder at the tapping there, and smiled at the sight of Nallia. He liked her, after all. Thus far, she had proven herself to be both kind and patient. These were traits Denen admired in others. He nodded his understanding and shook his head to the stallion, ruffling the hair that fell down across his brow. “You feisty, little lover,” he teased. “Didn't want to leave the ladies, did you? Well, I suppose I can understand that. They are rather pretty. You should meet Sama'el's Dohaina. She might give you a run for your mizas. She has more attitude than a whole herd of Striders.” His smile softened as Nallia informed him of why the horse hadn't been sold, though he was grateful. He brushed the backs of his fingers across the velvety nose and gave a playful snort. “He does need attention! Look at him. He's wasting away!” He put his hands on the horse's cheeks and rubbed them quickly. “Poor boy! They don't understand, do they? Do they? A pretty boy like you needs his hair done and his coat shined and his hooves trimmed and flowers in his mane!” And then, as though he could not help himself, he wrapped both arms around the stallion's neck and embraced him, whispering, “Thank you,” into his ear. He relinquished his hold and stepped back. “I must go eat, friend. But I'll come back. I promise.” His smile reaffirmed this. But they had an impression to make, after all. And Horse had...business to attend to. Denen scratched near the horse's ear one final time, before he went to Sam, grinning from ear to ear. He cast his friend a look that spoke bounds of his excitement, and the tension in his shoulders added emphasis to the tale. “Your horses are beautiful, Ankal Fleetrunner,” he complimented. “You honor us greatly in allowing us to eat with you.”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"There are blessings and curses to all things," he agreed philosophically. "I want to say someone slipped a bit of Tiaden into his bloodline, but I can't imagine the Syliran Knights giving away good blood. Perhaps one day I can track down the stable that made him, but I would have to leave the plains for a good long while to manage that. Perhaps some Frostmarch. He didn't seem to mind the Talderan snow as much as I feared he would." Sama'el nodded, acceding to Hek's hospitality. He said a few words to Dohaina, who dipped her head in almost human acknowledgement and moved to herd Horse toward Nallia and her tie-line. Her estrus had not come yet, so she would be relatively safe from attention. "She will be happy if there is a bit of food laid out for her too." With a smile, he prepared to follow the Ankal in for their meal, that smile almost content for the promise that hung in the air, both for him and for Denen.

[Lariat]

The stallion took the affection all in stride, remaining still as Denen lathered it upon him and the only evidence that he had been enjoying himself came when Denen tried to leave. He followed after him as much as the rope could allow, biting at his scarf but not enough to get a good enough hold with it, and let out a winnie as he saw him leave. Nallia moved to calm him, and waved to Denen. " Don't worry, I'm sure he will survive " she signed playfully, as she moved to go about her duties.

Tables that where only assembled hours ago stood as a centerpiece within the tent, laden with meat and vegetables, and clay cups at the ready, waiting to be filled to the brim with fine drink. Hek took his seat appropriately at the head of the table, his first wife taking a seat at his right, and he motioned to the left side for Sama'el and Denen to take their seats as his honored guests. The rest of the family filed in afterwards, taking their seats according to rank, with Andine sitting across from Sama'el. Seeing that everyone had found their seat, Hek stood up and offered a slight nod to his guests before looking at the rest of the gathering before them. " A fine night this is, and once more we find ourselves on the road to prospering. I encourage you to treat and dine with our guests like they were blood, and with that we eat. May Zulrav keep the claws of death away from us all yet another day " he signed to the gathering before taking his seat again, and looking over to Denen. " It is you who do me the honor with lavishing such welcome comments on our horses, so please enjoy yourself " he motioned before looking over at Sama'el, picking up their conversation outside. " In any case, Nallia can assess his worth, as she has a knack for such things" he offered only a knowing look before turning his attention to his food before him.

Nallia, after looking over the Windrunner, set down a wide clay plate, covered in many fresh vegetable, and some oats mixed in for Dohaina, and a even larger plate for the stallions. Light was getting low so she lit a lantern and set it on top of a barrel, that also carried a few select brushes, and carefully she washed down Horse and Dohaina after removing the tack, and yvas from them. " There much better, huh? " she said softly, rubbing the Windrunner’s neck, before heading back into the tent. She grabbed the gift from Sama'el off her pack on her way in, and with a warm smile walked in through the canvas flaps, bottle presented in her hands like a prize.

She set down the bottle gently beside Hek before taking her seat, and offered a smile to Sam, and Denen. " Gift from our guest " she signed, and happily she joined in the feast as well. The large hand of the ankal patted Sama'el's shoulder as he examined the bottle, and the released the cork, smelling the sweet aroma that came from it. " Fine wine, working on negotiations already are we " he poked at Sama'el, and a wheezing laughter erupted as he set the bottle down to let his first wife pour for them. Raising his cup high, he smiled at Sama'el and Denen. " A toast to your would be pavilion and the safety of your friends " he signed before drinking deeply from the cup. " Fine wine indeed "

Another person crept outside, but treaded carefully to avoid attracting the dog's or steed's attention. Worry etched the man's brow, and he wasn't even sure why he was here, but his embarrassment was forcing his hand to act less than noble. He just needed to enough to make the pain against his pride fade away, and nothing more, and with that he crept towards the stallions from the deeper shadows around the tents, his mind more set on releasing them to cause some trouble, than actually stealing them. He crouched by a barrel, to work on untying one of the horses straps when he heard a particularly loud laughter within the tent that caused him to stumble against the barrel, and tip over the lantern. Fearing being caught, he ran not looking back, leaping onto his "Firemane" before riding off.

The lantern alone wasn't enough to catch fire to bare earth, but oil splashed from within it, and soaked the canvas, and wood of the covering for the horses, and soon the fires leapt hungrily at the wood consuming it quickly. This was all soundless to the gathering, but deep inside Denen would feel pangs of fear within him, and although the steeds had not even yet to begin and notice that looming danger, subconsciously Denen would sense it. The stallions where in danger.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

The supper was going rather well, Sama'el thought, when he turned his head and saw the look on Denen's face. The youth was subtle about his expressions sometimes, but Sama'el knew him as well as anyone and he stiffened immediately, looking about him for some sign of treachery, which was preposterous in Endrykas, until he saw the flickering light upon the far canvas of the pavilion, as yet unnoticed by any save Denen, and now himself. His heart clawed its way up his throat as if it wanted vomiting out, the bottom of his stomach falling down as he did the unthinkably rude: he stood up, stumbling and accidentally kneeing one of Hek's wives in the shoulder in his graceless rise, and then he was bolting toward the exit. Denen would have to sound the alarm. His world narrowed down to the goal of saving his horses, so few in number, from the fire without. He smelled the smoke once he struggled out into the air, and with a strangled sob, he ran toward the fire, looking for his horses or any of Hek's that might have been injured. Some horses were quite intelligent, but horse sense was often a lie. He had seen perfectly intelligent horses run back into a burning barn after their handlers had risked life and limb to yank them to safety. Fire was a dangerous foe on the prairie plains, especially when the summer sun was ripening the grasses and turning the wide world into tinder. But Sama'el was of the Sapphire Clan, and if Eldon could not give him Water to save them, at least he could control the Fire. Flinging his hands in the air, he pushed part of himself out as a bright, flaring sort of energy, and he pulled at the fire through that energy, pulled with all his desperate might. It was too much to control, really, but if he could pull it away from the fuel it would dissipate, assuming it didn't burn him first.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen was all quiet smiles as they were taken in for food. It had been a long while since he'd sat down to a family dinner like this. None of the men in their camp were very good cooks, though his own skills were slowly improving. He did not say much while they ate, but he did pay attention to what was going on. After all, he didn't want to be rude and miss some bit of conversation directed his way. But as he sat there, quiet and attentive, his heart seized up, and a sudden, pungent stench overwhelmed him. Smoke. Alarm crossed his features, and just as he was about to reach out to touch Sam, to tell him something was wrong, the other boy leaped to his feet with remarkable quickness. Denen followed. He might have been a clumsy boy, but Denen moved as quickly as he could. His thoughts were on the stallion alone, and a sort of desperate panic filled his clear, blue eyes as he sought him out. He cast his eyes to Sam, who was in the attempt to keep some control over the fire, and he rushed toward the frantic cries of the horses. Goddess, he prayed, give me strength. He took a moment to squeeze his eyes shut, trembling, and focus. It was, however, only half of a second, before he broke into a quick a run as he could manage. The horse had been tied. Denen knew full well that if someone did not untie them, they'd all burn. He scrambled, careless of himself, under the blazing roof. Immediately, he shed the short tunic he wore, leaving himself in his trousers, and coiled the fabric around the Strider's eyes. He spoke aloud, stammering out soothing words to the horses as he crouched down to untie them. His fingers, usually so agile, even under stress, tugged clumsily at the leather thong until it was free. Denen was not a strong young man, but there was more to his slim arms and supple legs than one might imagine, and he applied it all now to guide the horse from the blaze, though smoke threatened to smother and bits of flaming canvas dropped near him.

[Lariat]

The energy that now suffused the air, crackled with power, seeming to instill vague properties to the area around Sama'el. Orange flames that licked hungrily at the dry canvas bent outwards, and then in a blink, a large portion of the flame at the tents base leapt towards the strange substance hovering before Sama'el. It immolated the foreign substance, and threw off heat like a furnace, blackening the flat of Sama'el hands as it appeared to consume the energy. The power of the fire could only be contained for a few seconds, or risk baptizing himself, and the area around him in the purging flame. Reimancy had its uses, and a blessing of such a dangerous element at the man's control surely was fated, but without fast thinking, his attempt at help could quickly turn sour.

The strider resisted Denen's tugging at first, wanting more to lead the way himself, or to gesture to the other horses still tethered, and struggling against their bonds, but upon meeting Denen's eyes, the fine equines will melted, and he trotted along where Denen led.

Hek came forth from the tent, a sharp knife clutched in his hand, and his eyes quickly assessed the young reimancers plight, and the work of Denen, before jogging over to free the horses. The snapping of leather was clear in the night as he quickly cut the ties of the horses, before shoeing them away from the flaming tent.

A quick sign to his first wife that followed him out, told her all she needed to know, and she quickly looked scared over to Sama'el
" Watchman, if you can, directs the flame towards the barrel " she called as loud as she could, cupping her hands to the side of her mouth. In the roar of the inferno, nothing could be certain, not even her yelling at the top of her lungs.

The camp was now a buzz with action, other people who had been feasting coming out, and quickly running to a tent on the far side of the camp, where they could find the tools they needed to put a stop to the blaze. They wouldn't do it in time to stop most of the damage though; the fire was simply too fast.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el's control over fire was limited at best, and not for the first time he wished that he had been blessed with his cousin's watery temperament, surely the path to Water as a controllable element, but the voice of Hek's wife cut to his consciousness and he attempted to steer the bulk of the fire toward the barrel she mentioned, running alongside the fiery vortex of res and liquid flame, for his range was not far and his skin blackened with soot and a burn not unlike that earned from too much time under Syna's rays. His hands were full black, but they hurt like a bastard, which led him to believe that the burns were not as bad as they could have been. It was when the pain ceased that true danger set in, the nerves burnt away. What fire he could not shepherd seemed like embers and remnants with which a normal man might deal, but Sama'el guided his barely controlled inferno to the barrel, causing an insane hissing of steam before the barrel burst, its wood charred into fragments by the intense heat. As soon as that was done, Sama'el lost control of the reaction and his body stopped producing the fire-managing res, and he fell to his hands and knees in the sudden puddle of mud created by the burst barrel, the cool mud less painful to the palms of his hands than the hot air had been. He was struggling to catch his breath, but dark eyes rolled to find Denen or Dohaina or Horse, whoever he could find to be sure of their safety. He was no Ankal yet, perhaps, but he considered his horses and his friends to be his responsibility. Their safety was more important than his own.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen grunted, his thin limbs trembling as he hugged the stallion's neck and uttered up an exhausted sob. He pulled his tunic away from the animal's eyes and let it drop to the ground. His next thoughts were for Sam, and immediately, he cast his eyes about for him. His heart was pounding in his throat, and his blue eyes--brightened from the panic instigated by the fire--fell upon his friend just as he dropped. He let out a strangled, thick sound, and stumbled towards him. Denen's own feet failed him once he reached Sam's side. He uttered a faint groan, before he doubled over, coughing. Without speaking, he reached out and gingerly took hold of Sam's wrist, turning his hand so that he could examine the marks left behind by the burn. Gods, he had seen what happened when people overdid such things, and if Sam had... He couldn't bear to think of it. Both thin arms wound their way around Sam's neck, and he placed a quick kiss on his cheek before he drew back to sign, "I'll fix it. Don't be worried. I'll take care of your hands." He forced himself to give Sam space enough to breathe, and took the moment to gather his own breath. He coughed again, doubling over, and tried to rub smoke out of his eyes. His gaze turned back to the horse he'd saved, and a weak, relieved smile crossed his features. "Thank...the gods," he whispered hoarsely. He curled in on himself and uttered up a quiet, quick prayer of gratitude as the others of the Pavilion took care of the rest of the fire. A trembling, now-muddy hand reached out, cupping Sam's chin, and lifted his face so that their eyes met, and forcing himself to speak as clearly as he could, though his voice still held the clumsy, awkward tones, he allowed for the temporary return of the clinical healer. "Y-You...did not...over...overg-give, did you?" His tone and gaze suggested that he would know if he was not told fully.