Closed Where All the Wounded Trees Wait

[Aramenta]

Livvy sat on a high branch of a scrawny cottonwood, her short slave-cut hair swining lightly in the gentle breeze of Spring. Her hand held a long sinew-cordroped around the tree branch, and with a wooden pole swinging lightly from it. It hung low from the tree, just a few feet above the ground. It was not an insignificant chunk of wood, but thin enough to swing lightly in the breeze.

Ara looked down at her slave, watched her get the rope tightly set. Her own hand gripped sweaty fingers around the ashwood haft of her narrow bladed, long axe, the hammer end glinting softly where her older sister had taught her to clean it, the blade glimmering softly, threateningly. Her other hand absently signed, fear, fear, fear. She did not like this. Livvy knew this. Ara knew she knew it. But nonetheless. The slave girl waved her hand, Ara interlaced the curried mane of Canterfoot in her fingers, and whistled gently, squeezing her thighs across the STrider's back. Canter kicked off quickly, her clever feet stepping deep enough to grip into the rain-muddied earth.

"That's it, Missy! Axe up!"

She threw into a full gallop, pouring down the hill like steam toward the gently weaving log. She was coming in too tight to, it, she could see, now, felt the gentle sloping of the earth that woudl throw her closer toward the trees, through the familiar rumble of her mare's hoofs. She pulled gently out to the left, and raised her axe.

Livvy yanked on the log, just as Ara came close, and it danced wildly. Ara, still unused to this, felt a little stab of fear - //Too hard! Too hard! I'll hit canter with that log!// But Canterfoot was steady and true beneath her, and she breathed, pouring her breath hard through her throat, into a pale, inaudible hiss of a battle cry. Swinging the axe hard, she caught the stick by its tail end, and it bit, hard, on the blade. She backstroked, and heard the axe flail behind her, as she pulled Canter into a hard turn with the gnetle tugging of her tiny fingers. A tumbling, crashing sound happened behind her, and she pulled harder, turned.

Livvy lay on the ground, face to the dirt, the log tangled in her feet. Ara rode hard, pulled harder to stop, and leapt from the horse to her slave's side, turning her over, slapping gently at the girl's cheeks. She had a nasty red smear on her face where the log msut of hit her. Livvy woke slow, and groaned.

"Lawks... oof. Next time... we bring a longer rope, Missy, hmm?"

Ara whispered as loudly as she could, "Oh! I'm sorry!" her hands shivering out the sign of her horror.

Livvy's hands laughed as hard as her voice did.

"Naw, I'll feel it tonight, but I'm alright, Missy Ara. You got t'do that to yo' sister when you show her what you been practicin'."

[Fox Starseer]

Fox had been sitting on a nearby log watching this. He walked over to the girls, having cleared the slight smile from his face. "Is everything alright?" he asked, speaking in Pavi. He looked at the two girls, the horse, rope, log and axe., taking in the scene and piecing it together. His sword was securely strapped to his belt, the scabbard decorated with typical Drykus knotwork, as was the hilt of the sword. "I hope you're not hurt to badly" he said, looking at the two girls, a small smile returned to his face.

[Aramenta]

Ara turned to look at the stranger, now, with a start - she had been so focused on her slave, she did not notice him. The instincts of the warrior or hunter, clearly, were not well-developed yet in her. She reached to her belt, vaguely, btu the axe was gone - she had dropped it in her rush.

Livvy, for her part, pulled from lying down to a low crouch with the speed of a protective instinct, startled by the man, though clearly the pain of the movement swam in her eyes. She frowned hard, but her eyes scanned the man's neck, following the line of the windmark there. A Drykas. Safe enough. She relaxed slightly.

"Ain't nothin' 'tall. Just a smart, Master Drykas. Ara leaned in close by the slave girl's ear, her lips moving but only an exceptionally sharp ear picking up any sound from the distance. Her hands moved in slow arcs at her side - politeness?

It was confirmed by the rougher hand-speech of Livvy, whose hands drew out a polite, slight withdrawl in what she said, a 'we are not threats to each other, but we are cautious' air.

"Missy Aramenta of the Stonewhistling Pavilion says H'lo, and apologizes for the trouble. We is well enough."

[Fox Starseer]

Fox bowed slightly. "It is nice to meet you. I am Fox of the Starseer Pavilion" he said, his hands brought up a question, asking who the other girl who was doing the talking was.

It was strange to him, these where two separate people but they acted as one. And for some reason they reminded him of his twin. Again he thought of her and then quickly drew his attention to the here and now, looking at the two girls in front of him. "Would you two like to train with me? I've been meaning to find someone to spar with" he said.

[Aramenta]

Livvy waved her hands into a blaise acceptance of the question, sweeping past her short-shorn slave's hair with a respectfulness that bore just the slightest hint of irritation, "Livvy, sir, Missy Ara's companion. Missy Ara, she don' speak too loud, so I jus' he'p."

Ara leaned in to the girl's ear again, her lips within a few blades of grass of her, and gestured playfully. Livvy playfully frowned back, and rolled her eyes, touching the one that was swelling up now into a livid bruise, "I ain' gone be much use in a fight at th' moment, Master Drykas, and would not ask it. The Mussy say, she dun know nothin' 'bout no sword, but she can swing 'n axe from a horse, if you want. Guard on and all. She jez' learning." her hands gesture polite interest, something like an invitation to a formal tea party. Accepting of a bond without inviting of a deeper one, yet.

Ara stood, then, and reached a hand down to take Livvy's, and pull the girl to her feet. Livvy refuses it politely, "No ma'am, I's fine." She helps herself to standing. Ara laughs. Or. She looks like a laugh, her hands, and her belly and even her mouth laughs, her breast rises and falls in a beautiful image of 'pretty young girl laughing'. Btu the whole affair is utterly, weirdly silent.

She bends and picks her axe up, and from the belt of her jodhpurs, she unlatches the sheathe for its blade, latching it over the axe's sharp edge, and bows to the man politely, hands signing a gesture of 'at you leisure'.

[Fox Starseer]

Fox tilts his head and draws his sword. He gets into fighting stance, his right foot forward and his left foot behind, his legs about shoulder width apart, holding his right hand forward with the sword gripped somewhat loosely in it. He watched Ara to see how she would advance. Even in a sparing match he was polite, and even signed 'ladies first' with his free hand, even so subtly.

[Aramenta]

Ara frowns, and goes into an uneasy, unfamiliar fighting stance. Truth be told, she was being polite herself, in agreeing to fight with the man. A good girl should know how to defend herself by Ara's age, at least a bit. Ara seldom found the will to practice the skill and, in her more honest moments she could confess to herself, she probably used her father's affection for her to help her avoid the duty. It wasn't that it was boring - on the contrary, it was perhaps overly intense if anything. Ara, in all things, liked to feel as if she was in control, as if the various stillnesses about her could be tapped and drawn from quietly and in proper sequence. Battle was not like that, battle was the spirit of unpredictability - it was the flying hooves on the uneven ground, the opposing sword in the cruel hand. It was her own sinews stretched and taut.

And fighting on foot made it worse - she could count on her hand the number of times she'd really practiced fighting without Canterfoot. On horseback, at least, she felt she could trust Canter, at least Canter knew how to handle herself. Off the horse's back, she was vulnerable.

She was ready to try though, for she knew it would be laughable to turn the man down. He was a well put together man, who seemed to have a certain confidence with his blade. If she did nothing, she would never learn, and she had to learn, eventually. She took a deep breath, guard arm raised and forward, her axe hand crooked just behind her head.

//Close combat, we're supposed to choke up high on the handle? Is that right? No, no, he has a sword, that's longer than my axe, I should choke low and swing? Or try to hook it and disarm him?//

The axe felt long and awkward, so she choked up on it anyway, knowing this was probably wrong, and made a quick feint toward him, to draw him out. If she was going to fight the fellow, at least she'd like to know what precisely she was fighting. She turned to her guard side, and made a half stroke, to see if the man went to parry - a talented eye, though, would see her whole weight was not behind the stroke. She was hanging back - defending.

[Fox Starseer]

Fox moved slightly to the right, not enough to be well out of reach, but enough to be just out of striking range of the axe.

Axes, good if the first strike hits, made for armour piercing mainly, have the power for it. But if the attacker misses... he thought, remembering what his father had taught him. He knew, unless his sparing partner could recover easily or quickly enough he would have the advantage, since axes where wieghted for hits to break through defence, she may well over-balance as the weapon came down.

Even so, Fox saw an opportunity. He swung his sword, the flat side of the blade coming towards the girl's arm. He wasn't aiming to hurt, not badly at least. The most he wanted was for her to get a small tap from the sword, to help teach her. This wasn't just practice for them, he could tell she needed to be taught. This was for him to teach her, if she was willing to learn.

[Aramenta]

The axe stopped and she pulled back into defensive position - the feint was perhaps a bit too textbook, and she did not firm her arm up with sufficient force to repel a blow exterted at full strength. The sword clattered, then, against the lower heft of the axe, but this was immediately followed by the axe giving way - it blunted the blow, but the metal still hit her arm with a sharp *smack* of metal on flesh, through her sleeves. She blushed hard.

//Stupid, Ara, stupid.//

It smarted hard, and she went to her first instinct - the wrong instinct. She went to grab the bruised place. About halfway through her axe hand crossing toward her left bicep, she realized this, remembered herself, and fell into a low crouch, half prepared to receive another blow.

"Watch y'self, Missy Ara!" called the slave girl good-naturedly from where she now rested a mash of fresh leaves against her swollen eye, "Yo' Da gone think I let somebody beat up on you!" She laughed in a kind way.

[Fox Starseer]

Fox had switched stance during his last move and his guard arm was out in front, unprotected, and he was holding his sword hand close to him and slightly behind. Let's see what she does now he thought. He used his free hand to encourage her to come to her feet and try again.