Climbing

[Gracen]

10th Fall, 512 A.V. There were perks to being a relative stranger in Kalinor. Most people thought him below their notice, which meant he didn't have to deal with them. The women were either Harvest-slaves and off-limits or Symenestra and, well, not the typical cup of tea into which he went anchors away with his tea bag. But that was fine. There was hard work and hard liquor, and just now he had been training hard too. The past couple of seasons in desert country had hardened him, drained his body of excess flesh, and he wanted to maintain his edge, the better to be a weapon, because he wasn't much of anything else anymore. Twelve odd years of wandering in search of the three men on his hit list, and he had only secured the one who was in Hai, who had to be the last to die for obvious reasons. Nobody got out of Hai. Gracen was hanging above the abyss. It was disconcerting in the dim of the caves, and he had still not grown accustomed to the lack of light. He was going to have to become a night hunter, else every trip to the surface would either hurt his eyes or prevent him from ever really growing used to the levels of light in the deep. But he kept climbing, the braided silk trapped between his feet, his arms pulling him up hand over hand. When he finally reached the ledge arcing off the abandoned house, he groaned, pulling himself up, and then just lay there on his back, panting and sweating. Out here nobody lived, but he was close enough to the population that the dangers of the dark ought not trouble him, and nobody could see how hard he was working to develop the skills to fit in.

[Davakiyr]

It was intended to be a night trip for Davakiyr. Climb around. Something he hadn't been doing for a while. He gracelessly sped along the rock walls and silk bridges that led to the uninhabited Symenestra homes. He was only in this part of the town so the other Symenestra could not see his lack of climbing abilities. He was accustomed more to running than others of his kind were. He wouldn't need the same isolation to feel comfortable in that art. He even removed the armor from his forearms and shins to allow for more contact. He wore the remaining because he didn't know what creatures he would encounter in Kalinor.

After a couple minutes he was beginning to get back into the swing of things. Not that it was unnatural for him, he did it near daily, but not at this speed. He sped along the silks and rocks to his decided training ground with only the occasional slip of the hand or foot. He was finally warmed up and ready to practice, which was good as he was almost there.

As Davakiyr came across the usually empty part of town, he saw someone he wasn't expecting. Not only was there someone already there, they clearly weren't Symenestra, based on the posture of the climbing. As he progressed farther he noticed the human climbing atop an abandoned housing structure. Having little exposure to humans, he decided it would be best to pick a different location for his climbing.

He attempted to move around the side of the housing structure he was hanging from and stubbed his pinkie finger against the stalactite. Unintentionally, and regretfully, he let out a quick gasp. His exclamation of pain was most definitely audible to the human who was near silent a couple houses down from him.

Davakiyr ceased all motion out of fear. He was barely in sight. But even for a human looking with the most basic observation skills, he was in view. He was hoping that he would not be noticed and he could go climbing around while watching the human. Climbing without the same stickiness of skin that the Symenestra had would have been most interesting to watch. It would have been most informative concerning the human form.

[Gracen]

Gracen heard the gasp even over his own breathing, and a murderer's instincts swung his gaze around. Despite the Symenestra's stillness, he could see shapes paler than the rock and silk around him; the shapes became clear when he focused. Someone was trailing him, or stalking him from a different angle. Odd. "Dominyon?" he called softly, thinking perhaps his less-than-enthusiastic hunting partner had come to see him for some reason. He wondered if he was actually that easy to track. If so, he would have to learn the art of stealth in Kalinor, which would be different from elsewhere. He frowned and rose up to a crouch, letting djed Flux into his muscles. It was a trick he had learned imperfectly in his youth, but sometimes when he used it, the effect was just what he needed. His legs felt stronger, his arms, and his core. He leaped for another cord of silk dangling a surprising span from where he had been, but not outside the realm of human capability. It was enough to impress, he hoped. He didn't want his hunting partner thinking he was worthless. Then again, it might not be Dominyon Curare, in which case, he really ought to be carrying a weapon, but it seemed unwise among the xenophobic denizens of Kalinor.

[Davakiyr]

Now, with a full leaping view of the man heading towards him, Davakiyr could see that he was in fact human. Surprised by the quick bout of strength Davakiyr quickly spat out words of peace in Symenos. He quickly remedied it by half shouting in common, "I mean no harm, I was just wandering off this way." He was reaching for a cord behind him as he spoke.

He soon remembered that both of his hands were out of view and decided to allow his free hand to drop in front of him to show that he was unarmed. The man would be able to see him clearly enough before he got close enough to injure him, or so he hoped. Davakiyr was in no way built for a fight.

The last thing that went through his mind was, 'Who is Dominyon' but, he quickly pushed this aside for the thoughts that the nor-adrenaline would begin producing as his flight or fight sense peaked.

A quick second had passed during the flight of the man and Davakiyr was now hanging from his chosen bridge prepared to appease to the man's needs. In the worst case Davakiyr would know that he could run. After all, he would have the advantage of sight and grasp.

[Gracen]

Gracen was the foreigner in this subterranean city, and he knew better than to attack a Symenestra here unless in defense of his own life, which might still be forfeit depending on how fair-minded the powers that be chose to be on that day of judgment. But it was certainly easier to climb the silken rope with his cheating trick, but most of the time he practiced without, wanting his body to adapt to this new world as best it could. The Flux was always there for tight situations, then, but not a crutch upon which he relied too heavily. He was glad that the man replied in Common as well as Symenos, as he had only the faintest grasp of the language. Though he wanted to learn it, few Symenestra were likely to be patient enough to teach him, even if he found one willing to do so. "It's nothing, versda," he said, using one of the smattering of words he knew to be polite. He wasn't sure it was appropriate for a human to call a Symenestra what amounted to good brother, but the Symenestra seemed young and he didn't know a better word to use. It seemed appropriate to at least attempt to use what Symenos he had acquired. The Symenestra weren't quite as bad as the Eypharians with their common Arumenic and their highfalutin High Arumenic that even stratified their own society between the standard Eypharian and the most literate and creative of their elite. "I thought you might be one I know, but I am the stranger here. I didn't think anyone used these buildings. I'll leave if you wish." He rarely backed down from a fight. Oh, he avoided the unnecessary ones, but he also knew that it was often important to impress on people that one was capable of defending oneself.

[Davakiyr]

Davakiyr thought it odd that this human was using the abandoned Kalinor buildings for sport, at least as far as he could see. Humans weren't warmly welcomed in these parts. And that he was acquainted with another of the Symenestra race, that was especially queer.

"No, you are fine. Your accent isn't bad, by the way." Davakiyr relaxed a little bit. His free arm and legs were now hanging limp so he switched arms to relieve some of the tension. He glanced the man once over in search of weapons. He didn't see anything, however, he still was not completely at ease due to the man's splendid display of strength just moments prior.

"I just came down here to climb. I haven't been for a good climb in a while. Why are you here, anyway?" It was true, Davakiyr had not been climbing for some days, except for that which he did whilst moving into his new home. He was itching with desire to climb back up through the buildings, but he was wary of the stranger.

[Gracen]

If his laugh was harsh, it was not unkindness, but merely surprised disbelief. "I have very few words in Symenos, but I try to pronounce the ones I know well." He paused. "You are much more polite than the majority of your brethren, you know." That wasn't meant as a slight against the Symenestra people, of course; Gracen was also a bit of a misanthrope. "I need to learn more. "I'm here for the same reason," he answered. After a beat of silence, he added, "I'm Gracen Haxo. I hunt with Dominyon Curare. I plan to be here for a while, so I'm trying to get stronger here, better at climbing and jumping and all those things your people do naturally. When in Kalinor, do as the Symenestra, no?"

[Davakiyr]

"Can't say that doesn't make sense. Would you like some assistance?" A smile would show as Davakiyr's words left his mouth. He was more excited than he had been for a long period of his life. He anxiously began climbing a silk bridge that lay just in front of him. He would climb forward to a distance of about 5 feet so he could chat with Gracen at a personal level. Maybe it was the man's use of Symenos, or his supposed association with Symenestra, but it made him feel comfortable.

"Davakiyr Delonix by the way. It is a pleasure to meet you." And for some reason it was. To many, Davakiyr would come off as eager or possibly mildly childish. This was because he was excited to be talking to this human in this cave that he called home. Most of his Symenestra brothers would have ignored Gracen's existence or actually told him to leave. Davakiyr, however, felt too much respect for sentience to interfere with somebody's life in that manner. Besides, it didn't appear that the man intended to harm anyone.

[Gracen]

Gracen watched the Symenestra make his way up to his level, made curious by his words and -- for a Symenestra -- friendliness. He actually gave him his name without a sneer, and so, even though Davakyir was several feet away, he put his hand out to shake. He couldn't remember if Symenestra shook hands, but humans did and they were building bridges or something. "If you're offering, I'm inclined to accept," he said. He would keep his eyes open for strings attached, but he didn't exactly have allies in Kalinor. One he remembered had gone away, and others who remembered him did so with anger. "A lot of what I'm doing is just, you know, working those muscles you need to climb. Don't always use those on the ground. It's a lot of training. Boring, I guess, but necessary if I'm going to be here for a while. I don't like to be dependent on the generosity of others, you know?"

[Davakiyr]

"That's true I suppose, I am a quite avid runner, at least for my kind anyway. And of course, I would be glad to help you learn. From my experience most aren't very generous." Davakiyr said with a tone that showed of an angering memory. He shook it off and threw his hand forward to receive the handshake. He was now hanging from just his left hand. Shaking hands was not something Davakiyr did on a daily basis so the action felt unnatural. That, and the humans hands where of a different structure than his. He was careful not to scrape the man with his crescent claws.

"Would you mind if we headed back to the building you were originally on? I'm a bit hungry." Davakiyr had tilted his head towards his left side. He had an apple with him in his left robe pocket and was starting to thirst for the sweet juice of his favorite fruit. He placed his right hand back on the rope, ending his quick two shake hand shake, and began to edge towards the building that Gracen had leapt from.