[Flashback:Cara]A chance meeting.

[Antar]

5th day of Fall, 510 av.

The caribou's head raised itself high as it's nostrils tested the air a moment before leaning back down to drink from the puddle which was present. In the snow smattered thrushes, long iced over with the winter's hold upon the region it stood on pained legs, as it struggled to deal with the nature of its imminent death in its future from its injury. In the distance , down in the valley below, the call of tundra swan rang upon the air.

Antar was only half a day outside of Avanthal, doing some much needed hunting to fill his meager belly and he'd spotted the caribou herd awhile ago. It seemed they were in the process of migration, working their way southeast from the western shores in preparation for winter. He presumed it was because closer to winter, when morwen walked the rest of the world much of the grass near in the southeast reaches became easier to dig out with cloven hooves, and the uncovered vegetation became a prime food source for the herds to grow.

He'd spotted this one, a young buck, too old to be with its mother, and too young to have aspired to lead a herd limping off towards the tundra's , down in one of the lower valley bevies. It appeared injured, probably by a bad fall, and it favored it's hopping leg. This was the reason Noth chose this animal, not for the ease of the hunt, but because it was probably doomed to die off anyways at such a crucial time, and the hundred pound buck was certainly a useful catch. By taking this animal for his own, Antar ensured that he took no strong males from the herd who might grow to foster the next generation of bovine. And the leather from it's pelt and hide would serve him well if he could cure it.

For these reasons, and these reasons alone, he had painfully crawled his way through the high grass, with care taken to hide his presence as much as possible, by following the first rule of hunting or sneaking: going slow and taking his time. Twice now the buck , had been warned off by a sudden shift in the wind direction and had scampered a short distance further, but with the injured leg, he couldn't go very far. Noth had dogged this animal for half a day, and on the third time, the rogue had finally come close enough, with his bow in hand.

Taking his time he lined up his shot, maneuvering to a position where he could 'quarter away' , a point to the side, and back of the animal which gained him a chance to fire just beyond the ribs and into the chest cavity. For archers, the quartering-away shot was the best chance he might have. Even if the arrow hit a bit too far back, it's penetration would angle forward into the chest cavity for a quick kill, and to line it up, All noth had to do was try to take a lead line to the caribou's opposite side shoulder.

With as full a draw he could take in a crouched form, Noth released the arrow, and it's aim fell true, piercing into the animal's chest and the injured animal shot away as fast as it could with Noth running after. Contrary to popular opinion, shooting an animal, rupturing the lungs or grazing heart doesn't mean the animal would crumple to the ground to stop moving. Adrenaline kicks in, and nine times out of ten, the injured animal, if it was a good size would start off like a horse out of the gate.

Noth's feet pounded the earth as he tried to keep the caribou in sight, and was rewarded for his efforts when he saw it topple to the ground about a hundred yards in the distance. A clear sign of mortal injury setting in... When he came upon the animal and saw it lying still amidst the frozen grass, he took his time on the approach, looking for signs it was still alive, searching for the telltale expansion of his lungs, and thus a threat to him if it kicked. There was none, and he congratulated himself that it was dead. However, he knew better then to wait around, the smell of blood could attract larger animals, such as the polar bears which ventured the wilds. He wasn't about to hunt one of those unless it was a choice between life or death for himself. After all, the rogue had heard the stories of the Icewatch, and the polar bears the riders used, and he didn't want to make the mistake of shooting someone's mount.

Taking out his kukri, he retrieved his arrow as quickly as possible, cleaning it with a bit of powdered snow before he gutted the animal entirely. The sensation of warmth from the blood came to his fingers a moment, as the steaming entrails were eviscerated from the animal. He took extra precaution of using some of the powdered snow to clean along the interior ribcage after he cut out the colon sheathe. He'd leave the entrails upon the tundra for any predator to have, his eyes were on the meat and the pelt.

After he was finished he used some more snow to clean the blood from his hands , ever cursing at the cold of the tundra's landscape before turning his attention back to the buck. The antlers alone would be a prize he could sell, about 10 hands high, or he might use them for hilting a knife or two. Working quickly Noth tied the bucks legs up with a small bit of rope and lifted the animal to his shoulders before turning to begin the trek back towards his camp just outside Avanthal city proper. He needed to put as much distance between himself and the bloody site as possible before predators came in, attracted by the blood and the grisly mess.

What would happen along his way back to Avanthal? Who knew, he was just happy for the moment of not starving to death within the wintry demesne of Morwen, and a small prayer for his catch and continued protection rolled from his lips as he took in the natural beauty of the landscape.

[Cara]

Cara walked through the newly-fallen snow, clutching Little Rascal's fur. It rustled as the wind swept through the area, causing the Vantha to cradle the red panda all the more tightly, holding him closer to her flesh. "Try not to squirm too much love," Cara whispered, "because it makes it so much harder to carry you." The creature simply licked Cara's chin, causing the girl to giggle a little. "I know, I know, you love me a little more today since I am providing door to door service. We can't let your cute little paws get wet after all," the Vantha cooed as she brushed noses with her companion. The red panda's cold, wet nose send a small shiver up Cara's spine, but she ignored it; knowing that if she took the time to stop and think about the weather, it would only get worse. "We're almost back at the Hold," Cara whispered, "just another hour of walking should do it," she added with a quick glance up at the sky; the sun that was slowly rising towards its zenith. Little Rascal licked Cara's chin once more as they continued on their journey in silence, willing the reaches to warm up just a little so that they may arrive back at the Frostfawn Hold long before a sense of complete and utter numbness overcame each of their bodies. After several minutes of walking, Little Rascal's ears pricked. "Do you hear something?" Cara asked, as she glanced around at their surroundings, for all she saw was a blanket of white, snow in every which direction. Rascal's nose began to twitch as it sniffed the air; the scent that was carried to them by the wind. After a few seconds, the creature's eyes began to water. "Something wrong Rascal?" Cara asked, as he buried his head in her chest. Looks like something has upset him. Poor thing, the Vantha thought as she hurried along, hoping to get as far away from whatever was bothering the creature as she could. Cara had not gone far when the sound of footsteps reached her ears. "Who in Morwen's name is out in the reaches in this awful weather?" Cara called, simply to be met with the sight of a man carrying a caribou. Well it looks like someone got real lucky today, the girl's mind scoffed, as she strode over to the man; Rascal picking his head up just long enough to sniff the air, before burying it in his mistress' chest once more. When Cara reached Antar, she stopped in front of him, and began to study his catch. The dark eyes of the caribou, the color of its fur, how everything was bloody and dull now, but still unmistakable. Cara's eyes sparkled as a mischievous grin crossed her pale lips. It looks like our companion was right, something is wrong, the young sorceress thought as simply stood, expecting the man to stop so that they could converse. "You may want to chop its head off before you get into town," Cara instructed. "Unless you want the majority of the Frostfawn Hold coming after you." Petching idiot. "You shot one of Myrrh's herd you know, and she isn't going to be happy about it," Cara went on. "Not that I mind, if she can't even keep all her companions together, then she should have to face the simple reality that everything dies." Cara's smile widened. "Not to mention, she gets pretty petching annoying, prattling on about her petching prized caribou all petching day long..." With that, Cara spat at the ground. "Daluna's Ruffles, and the rest of her petching herd are more well kept than Myrrh's. Petching Coolwaters," the young sorceress spat again, clearly not making much sense. "Better than a Frostfawn at something... petching nonsense is what that is." Rascal peered up at his mistress, licking her chin once more to calm her down. The girl smiled sweetly down at her companion, before looking back up at the bleeding caribou, and the man who carried it. "It'll be lighter if you decapitate it anyway... and hide the head, you wouldn't want anyone to find that. Nor would you really want an animal to find it before we get the heck out of here," Cara explained, her voice only moderately cold. It was apparent that she was pleased the creature was dead, but irritated that she had not managed to kill it herself. OOCMyrrh is an NPC I made up. She's a Frostfawn, and keeps caribou, not much else to know.

[Antar]

oocThanks you just gave me a great intro to the next thread after this . P.S. I'm using the opportunity to know to the name of the npc for another thread

Staring incredulously at the vantha woman, a cold pit of dread opened itself within his stomach and the rogue felt like the world was turning against him. 'Did all these Vantha, have to belittle him and try to deny a starving man enough sustenance to keep him going?' Even worse did he have to be ridiculed by a creature lover as well who seemed to spurn out an aura of contempt for this other woman he supposedly took the animal from? Were all vantha as pompous or as irritating as that Darren fellow?

Gulping loudly at the woman he nodded at her words to go to the side of the road, but then he turned nervously back towards her, "Actually miss, I only hunted this one since it had no branded mark , and was wounded to boot after a fight with a larger buck. I followed it about a half day to the west in a bit of a valley stumbling off to die. Figured I'd take it back to camp and make myself some dinner."

He looked at the woman, for the first moment recognizing her beauty despite the bad attitude and became nervous for a different reason. She was quite the looker, if not for the attitude she might have made some lucky man a pleasant enough companion. "Actually, miss. If I could persuade you to keep this quiet, my camp is nearby and this starving hunter would be happy to cook you a bit of a meal, as for the animal, I guess I'll just use it for making myself some buttons, gloves and bootsAs in they'll be used to help explain part of the clothing in Noth's Starting package in a bit of a tanning thread . Perhaps you'd care to join me for a meal? And..." He looked at the cute red panda in Cara's arms. "You're friend is more then welcome to have a bit of supper as well. I'd never tan a pet of course, and I'm sure he wouldn't eat much... erh... I don't recognize the species, is he a predator, a herbivore, or an omnivore?"


What he was saying was true, his camp was close by, and he'd truthfully enjoy having a meal with a bit of company and it was far enough from prying eyes he might see if the woman knew anything about the sym he was here to hunt. Who knew? If the creature was around the environs of avanthal, Noth might need a bit of help tracking him down. Worse came to worse, none of his attempts to learn anything about the woman would bear fruit and he might simply find himself feeding her and her pet a nice meal. At best, he'd have a pleasant afternoon of discussion by the fire before parting ways. Ever polite, his head remembered his manners before the lower head all men possessed could take over. "I'm dreadfully sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, just worried a bit from what you said."

He held out one arm towards the woman with every intent to shake her hand, "My name is Anthony, by the way. I feel it necessary to tell you I'm just visiting these parts of the world for the season, and I had no clue there were any herds to the west of Avanthal. Most of them, from gossip I heard in the markets noted to the east. So if I made a dreadful mistake I guess I'll just have to go and apologize sometimes. May I ask your name, Miss?"[/color]

[Cara]

"Myrhh does not brand her companions. No Frostfawn would brand one of their companions," Cara hissed as she held Rascal all the more tightly to their chest. "It is enough that the animal stays with her; that for whatever reason, it chose her pitiful company. It does not need a mark for us to understand that they are one; that they traveled together. Any Vantha knows that," she hissed, her eyes turning a ruby red. "But you are no Vantha. You know naught of our culture. For if you had, certainly you would not have been so stupid!" There was a slight pause, "and even if he was injured as you said, giving you reason to take his life so that you may sustain your own, our kind would not do so. Companions to the Frostfawn are treated with respect. Should one be injured, or grow so sick that they are beyond our care, we end their lives swiftly. Showing them mercy. After they have fallen, we bury them. We honor their lives and what they meant to us. We honor their friendship; their innocence." Cara drew in a ragged breath as her cheeks continued to grow red. The level of her anger was rising. To disrespect a Frostfawn's companion was to disrespect them as a whole. Even if she did not care for Myrrh, the life of her friend should be respected. Even though Cara wished she could have the satisfaction of killing the caribou for herself, of burning it alive, she would still honor it- by scattering its ashes to the wind, and burying its bones. By praying to Morwen that the dire wolves would not dig them up and lick any blood that still lingered off their smooth ivory coat; that they would fight over whatever skin still clung to the ivory frame. "If you have any respect for the Frostfawn and their companions, you will bury this creature. Now," Cara hissed. "And if you truly wish to dine with us, you will find another animal, and bring it down. Hopefully, this time, you will not be stupid enough to kill someone's companion," the girl hissed, the slight change in her attitude more than likely catching the human off guard. "If it would make it easier, you could put it down and we can burn its flesh, that way, you only have the bones to bury," Cara continued, her voice just as cold as before, if not colder now that the wind whipped wildly around them, chilling even her to the bone. There was a slight pause, "and you'd better know how to cook a decent meal, Rascal and I aren't exactly Winterflames you know," the girl spat, staring angrily into Antar's eyes. There was another slight pause, "Little Rascal is a red panda. We met back in Lhavit; in the Misty Peaks to be more specific. He eats a lot of things- eggs, bamboo, small animals from time to time," Cara explained, her tone slightly less cold. She lowered her face to her companion. The curious creature extended its own face to her, pressing its nose lightly against Cara's own. It was cold, and wet. The Vantha flashed the smallest of smiles down at her friend, as golden-colored flecks made their way into her eyes. "The name is Cara Frostfawn," the Vantha whispered at last, glancing up from her companion as she did so. "You may share our company, if you wish, once you have properly gotten rid of that caribou. But not until then," she finished before pausing a moment. When he didn't move fast enough she asked, "well what in Morwen's name are you still doing there? That thing isn't going to bury itself! Get to it Anthony!" Her voice was cold, irritated. In truth, she was only angry because she wanted to teach Myrrh a lesson herself. Perhaps then, it would have been best if she hadn't insisted on a proper burial for the bloodied creature. But even Cara wasn't cruel enough for such things; showing an animal such a grave dishonor. She would just have to find another way to show Myrrh the cold, harsh, nature of the north. OOCI don't know if anything she is saying is true... but Cara is Cara... and so, your pc will have to deal. Sorry.

[Antar]

As the woman continued Noth began to realize... what she was saying made less and less sense as he remembered a bit more about the Vantha, and the rumors of the frostfawn. For starters, any 'companion' or pet that was regarded as being with their families was usually kept in the hold or stables. Safely held within the myriad number of fenced in enclosures about the area. More than that, most of the herds the frostfawn kept who weren't 'companions' were held to the grazing lands east of the city. This woman's story constantly did not make much sense, and her body languaged conferred a sense of discord in her figure as her mind and words flitted from thought to thought.

Even worse, this was a caribou.

A creature uncommonly held as a pet, and more of a ridden animal (in cases where the Avanthalian sleigh horses were unsuitable) or as a herd beast. A creature made for the slaughter. Not just for the slaughter, but from his brief stay in the markets, the rogue knew it was ultimately more disrespectful not to use the parts of an animal from the fur to the bones then to simply bury the creature as was said.

No. There were far too many discrepancies here to hold Cara's, a rather pretty woman with a rather pretty name, judgement as the absolute fact on the matter. Especially when it seemed that her emotions were getting the best of her. Most notable was the creasing of the woman's brow, a sure sign of anger whenever the name 'Myrhh' came up. It was as if she wanted to hurt the woman in some way shape or form. Wanted to make her suffer in some way. It was as if she was convincing herself of this scenario out of some innate desire for revenge. More, her attitude bespoke of being bitchy in the extreme.

But Noth knew that many such people who's attitude's were like that were only formed after years and years of emotional struggle , hurt, and abuse. Yes, wasn't there some law out there that said the simplest solution to a problem usually was the correct one? Most likely, this fascination with the caribou's identity was within Cara's words.

At the rest of Cara's words, Noth ignored her for a moment and stalked off towards his camp. He only got a few meters away before turning back towards her. "My dear Cara, I believe you to be mistaken in the extreme. However, for your sensibiliities in this regard, I will not do anything to the catch right now save bury it in snow before I approach this Myrhh on this issue directly. If it is as you say then at least she will be informed her animal was given a quick and clean death. An arrow through the heart which dropped it after a bad injury."

His eyes bored into hers as he spoke with sincerity, "And if she wishes it , then and only then will I bury it in disservice to the idea that everything an animal gives at the end of its life should be put to use. However, Cara..." His voice took on a sympathetic , and kind tone as he spoke a little softer, "the chance exists quite prominently that you are mistaken to the animal's identity, and that I am right that this creature was perfectly Wild. I believe this as it was far removed from the herds to the east, being over half a day's journey to the west and down in the cold cropped valleys. If you still wish to come to my camp, my offer is still open. However, you do not have the right to demand I hunt you anything. Hunting is predominantly done in the morning to noon. And it is past noon, Cara. This is fact. I will not hunt you anything today. If in the future you want me to take you hunting, that is a something to discuss in the future. But foremost understand this: I expect civility my dear newfound friend. Or at least as much as you can muster. I will not yell at you, or belittle you in any way shape or form. I expect the same courtesy in return. I do not deserve your anger, or your scorn, and you do not deserve mine for your tone and actions here. While I'm not the best at cooking, if you do decide to follow me to my camp, I will give you and your ... companion a simple soup made from traveler's stock which all three of us may share. I will not even touch this caribou until I can confirm or deny your story with Myrrh herself. That is the last I will say on the subject."

For a moment his eyes met her own, almost silently pleading with the vantha woman to stop her irrate bashings of him for her temperament. Without another word, Noth turned and took another step, and then another. It would be up to Cara to decide whether to follow after or that it was time to part ways here. Regardless of which occurred, when he reached his campsite he would bury the caribou in a nearby snow drift to keep it cold and begin rummaging around in his tent for his pot and the small bit of the traveler's stock he had left. Antar had hoped to save it for another night when his need was absolutely desperate but if such things were true, he'd rather use it now instead of risking further injury to someone else's culture. Regardless of things, he'd soon be paying a visit to Frostfawn Hold to discover the truth of things...

Coming out of his tent he turned towards the fire pit, pot in his left, traveler's stock in his right. He was half expecting Cara to not be there... and half hoping she would in order to ensure he might at least have someone to talk to.

[Cara]

"Fine! Don't trust a Frostfawn!" Cara growled as she stomped after Antar. "It's probably best we eat that thing anyway, and don't leave it for the animals to dig up, or for Myrrh to cry over. Her crying is the worst. Makes her nose fill up with snot, and her salty tears get petching everywhere. It's so pathetic!" Cara commented her eyes taking on an icy edge. Why is it that outsiders always assume animals can't break out of their pens? Just for once, I'd like to see one so much as consider the possibility that animals are not so dense, that so much as an attempt could not be managed, Cara thought as she followed closely behind Anthony. But not so closely where the scent of the dead animal could easily fill her nostrils. "Do you have any wood at your camp? Something to start a fire with? Kindling of any sort... leaves even?" Cara asked as she did her best to keep up with Anthony's pace. It didn't prove to be too difficult, considering how he was being weighed down by the caribou, the cold, and his weapons. "The wood is probably the most important, because there is no way you are ever going to cook that on a miniature fire unless you cut its flesh into tiny cubes. And serve it on crackers as one may serve cheese," Cara commented cooly. "Although the kindling would help to keep it going. Unfortunately, if you don't have any of either, you're going to have a hard time making a fire, since there aren't many trees about this place." There was a slight pause, "perhaps it is a good thing you convinced me to come along after all," she added, her voice still cold, although it held a hint of amusement. Cara fell silent for a long time, simply clutching Rascal to her. She stroked his fur absently from time to time, considering everything she had said and done to this man. "You know what Anthony, don't even worry about the fire, we can tend to it, if you can cook. We're Frostfawns, not Winterflames," she said with a small shudder, not because of the cold, but because she saw that Hold as less than her own. Her stomach flopped, growling angrily to be fed, as her eyes rested on the caribou's matted fur coat. Ahh where are those petching Winterflames when you need them? OOCSometimes, I think Cara bitches just for the sake of bitching.

[Antar]

Nodding politely during Cara's tantrums of complaints, he inwardly sighed a bit before his trepidation with the woman turned to slight amusement. Antar smiled as he began to realize the many possibilities of what was really going on here. Myrrh wasn't liked because she sniffled, cried and was pathetic. He wondered if the woman really was pathetic or rather if the act of crying, showing weakness in front of another was what Cara truly hated. Or if there was bad blood between them... did the crying of this other woman entice a prospective suitor away from Cara's way? Or was Myrrh possibly actually one of her jilted lovers?

Noth didn't know, but he knew it wasn't the best time to broach such matters. So he stayed as quiet as possible listening to the woman bemoan the horrible detractors of Myrrh for a while.

At the question of firewood, Noth smiled and put down the stock and pot in order to walk behind his tent. In short order, he pulled out a wrapped up tarp laiden with dry wood, sticks, and fuel logs he had collected. For tinder, a small clump of wool was present to be used, though he shrugged a bit as he realized a bit of dampness from the snows had seeped into the clumps. It would be difficult to light, unless he used that. But he couldn't use his unwanted gifts, not if he had a guest in camp. Sighing he turned over the entire ensemblage to Cara, as well as a flint and stone for her to strike up a spark.

Without saying much more then a, "Please, that would be most helpful, my dear." to Cara's words about the fire, Noth ventured slightly out of camp. The rogue went to fill the pot with snow to melt and boil... while being careful to always keep his guest in view.

[Cara]

When Antar tried to hand her the bundle of wood, Cara simply raised a single brow as she stroked the section of fur between her companion's ears. Her eyes sparkled a mysterious violet coupled with flecks of sapphire blue. "Well at least you have the components," Cara commented, her voice cool. "But as you can see, I have my hands full for the moment, so why don't you set that down and we can get to it in a few minutes?" the Vantha suggested as she continued to run her fingers through the red panda's fur, allowing whatever warmth each individual strand of hair held to flow into her flesh; caressing it and causing it to tingle ever so slightly. When Antar set the wood down at her feet, Cara smiled as she watched him move onto doing other things. Once he was gone, she strode over to his tent, and placed Rascal inside. "Just stay there if you don't want to get your paws all wet," the Vantha instructed as she walked back to the pile of firewood. She picked one of the larger branches up and held it just over the snow, eyeing how much space it took up before placing it back on the pile. She bent over, and placed her hands in the snow, pulling a pile of it away and throwing it to her side, in the opposite direction of the wood and Antar's tent. She kept on picking up the snow and tossing it away until she had made a rectangle in the snow. She could see tiny tufts of frozen green grass beneath the area she had just cleared, and knew that if the fire was to last, it'd have the best chance in the pit. Cara's hands had lost most of their color, and started to grow numb in the time she was digging, but she ignored this as she slowly arranged the firewood into a teepee. She left a small section of the teepee open, so that she may place several smaller twigs and any other items Antar had gathered for kindling inside. When she was satisfied with the structure she had produced, even though it was somewhat uneven and lopsided, Cara stood back. She began to concentrate on her djed, how it felt as it rested in the pit of her stomach. How it made her feel full, warm, and strangely powerful. She allowed her djed to bubble, to rise up and out of her stomach, towards her neck. When it reached her neck she allowed it to bubble over into her arms, following the winding path of her veins and arteries until it reached her hands, at which point, it spread upwards and to the tips of her fingers. Cara's fingers had begun to tingle as she gently released a pale blue mist; her res. The mist floated out over her right palm, and gathered into a sphere, which collected any more res that she produced. After it had formed a sphere that was approximately two inches high, and another two wide, Cara lit the center on fire. It cast a pale orange glow against her flesh, the snow, casting some of it in light, and the rest in shadow. She bent over, and extended her hand to the opening in the wooden teepee. She blew lightly, guiding the orb over to the kindling. When it had finally made its way inside, Cara ignited its entirety. The res orb crackled into life, illuminating the inside of the wooden teepee in its warm, golden-orange glow as its warmth engulfed the kindling. She could see a few leaves crackling, splitting into several jagged shreds of vegetation as the fire spit them towards the top of the teepee. She could see the twigs curling in the heat of the fire, as though they were trying to lock in the cold. "That should do," Cara whispered as she rubbed her hands together, as though to congratulate herself on a job well done as she gently placed another log against the opening in the teepee, sealing it shut so that it would be less likely the wind could get to it, and blow it out. When she was done, she bent close to the fire, holding her hands out to it so that they could grow warm. Several spirals of thick grey smoke wound their way into the sky. "Whenever you're ready to start cooking Antar," Cara called in a tone that was both playful and somewhat irritated, as her stomach growled, "before we're forced to eat wood we're so hungry..." OOCI know Cara doesn't have any experience with wilderness survival... but I figured she could cheat a beat because of the reimancy. Erm... I made the structure of the wood kind of weak to even things out.

[Antar]

oocAny reimancy displays for Antar in this thread are as if the character's skill is locked at 10- Novice level.

At the spark of a telltale itching inside his skull he glanced back in time to see Cara's eldritch fires display of fire form from the telltale blue mists of Res use crystallized something in Antar's mind about his newfound friend. She was a reimancer, and that meant he wasn't as in need of being wary of her. Or perhaps that was untrue, perhaps it simply meant he should be doubly wary due to her seemingly sudden shifts of mood and story. Was she suffering from the Whispers? Or damaged by her craft? He didn't know, all he knew was that he would be as pleasant to her as he could possibly be.

With the pot full of snow, he ventured back towards the fireside where the woman was sitting. Giving her a friendly if humorous wink, Noth spoke, "You know Cara, my dear. That really is the nicest thing you've said to me so far. And what an interesting way to light a fire if I might say so myself. Don't worry, dinner will be cooking soon. Can't promise much though."

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the red panda sitting in his tent, looking at him with it's head cocked to one side. He wondered if there would ever be a trend in his life that said most of the beautiful women he'd meet along the way had to have a pet or two. Not that he'd dare to voice such words aloud in front of his guest. He'd rather not anger her at the present time. However, if this animal was like she claimed the caribou to be for Myrrh it simply wouldn't do for it to sit alone in a tent. "Ah such a shame, hold up for a moment, I'll get my saddle blanket for the Rascal to sit on. That was his name right, Rascal? Ah no matter, I imagine him joining us to warm himself by the fire might be best. Don't you think Cara."

Putting action to the thought, he got the saddle blanket out and laid it a good ways away from the fire, but still next to Cara so as not to be in danger of being caught by an errant spark. The next thing he began was melting to pot of snow, adding more and more handfuls in order to bring a full pot of water to a boil. Looking back at the Red Panda in his tent, Antar tried to coax it out to join them a moment. It was odd but he seemed to get along much better with animals then with people and hopefully Rascal sensed it.

Stopping about a foot away from his tent, he eyed Rascal a bit before extending both hands forwards, yet keeping them far enough away from the animal. Politely addressing the panda in common he asked, "Well there Sir Rascal would you care to join us for a bit of a meal."

The animal chittered and bared its teeth at him but Antar made no sudden movements instead shifted to one side so the animal could look at Cara. For a time the animal shifted its gaze and chittered loudly, looking at Noth and then at the proferred gloved fingers dangling just above its reach. Whatever, if anything, transpired between animal and its master was impossible for him to tell but the red panda gingerly reached up with both its front paws to grasp about his fingertips.

Raising the creature up slightly he walked it over the snow, hanging trapeze style, to lay it down next to Cara before settling into the task of preparing the soup. A bit of travelers stock, followed by a bit of potato, carrots , celery, and dried chicken jerky went into the concoction of boiling water, in order to turn it into a stew. To mellow it out, a bit of sagemary and thyme were added along with a dollop of parsley flakes. Soon enough it was simmering nicely, and in a few minutes they'd have a fine, if plain, meal to share.

Going back to his tent to get two of his bowls and his smaller pot for Rascal Noth looked at the fire for a time. His gaze was almost lost in the fires hues enough to almost pass over the way the warm hues seemed to cast Cara's pale skin in a warm glow. Bringing his attention towards the woman he spoke plainly, after concentrating his own djed, bringing to being a small ball of Res to his fingertips, igniting its exterior before lazily casting it towards the fire's edge. Antar spoke haltingly but carefully with politeness, his eyes fixed upon the woman's in order to try to silently tell her he was not a threat to her. "So that's what I recognized in you perhaps... it's always painful I imagine. Being treated harshly for being different. We live in a superstitious world now. People would as soon as outright kill a mage in some places, child or not. Or beat that same child to an inch of their lives in order to dissuade them from magic's touch. In some places, drowning is the preferred method. In others places still, those with any talent at all for magic are loathed, distrusted, and despised. Unable to have friends, or loved ones of any significance because of the irrational fear people have of them. It's a petching shyked up world out there beyond Avanthal, my dear. So let me ask you something Cara; what's your story?"

[Cara]

Cara smiled down at her companion as she continued to warm her hands. "Don't you wish he would get to the cooking already?" Cara asked Rascal in Vani. "Because it's cold, and neither of us have eaten for a few hours now." Cara sighed. "The food would keep our stomachs from rumbling and our bodies warm too..." Cara growled, frustrated by the fact that the fire didn't seem to be enough. Her stomach churned as it sent sharp, shooting pains through the reimancer's chest. "Our petching stomachs are starting to sound far more ferocious than the pounding hooves of the beast he just killed," Cara growled, finishing off her rant. The young sorceress continued to hold her hands out to the dancing flame as Antar set to work; talking to her constantly in a language she hardly understood. The girl pulled her hands away from the fire for a moment, and rubbed them together, trying to buy herself some time as she tried to sort out the sea of words; every last thing Antar had said. Every last thing which was causing her head to spin. After a few moments, Cara reached for the fire once more. "No, story," Cara replied, her voice cold. Whether or not it was because she couldn't find the words for such a thing in Common, or because she wasn't in the mood to have a complete stranger pry, Antar would more than likely struggle to be certain. "Not for you." Can he just cook us something already so we can eat and be on our merry way? Cara's mind growled. Because it is really petching cold out today, and we have a nice, warm, dry set of clothing waiting on the bed for us to change into. And a fresh set of down sheets to pull up over our bodies once we've finished with that, and such a soft pillow... It had been awhile since Cara had missed the Frostfawn Hold, and her own room, quite so much. OOC*Whines* Sorry this is such crap.