Closed Old Snake, New Tricks [Svan]

[Tinnok]

Tinnok gauged her opponent carefully as she moved. His body barely shifted to accommodate her, though whether or not it was because Svan was tired, or he had no need of flashy counters was beyond Tinnok's understanding. Her body twisted, and suddenly the echoing clash of steel upon steel echoed out in the clearing. She remembered that her clan always said that music was the sound of steel striking, and she couldn't help but smile softly at the thought. This was truly a way to gauge someone, the merit of their blades.

But before her lips could even slide into position she glanced up to see the Dhani's gaze, boring into her own. Hazel eyes were serious and focused, and his mouth...was curled...at first Tinnok saw it as anger, frustration, until she realized all of a sudden that it was neither...it was disgust. Did he see her as weak or worthless? Ugly? She started in that moment, knowing that the other half of her blood seemed to see her no differently than Myrians did. She knew his stare well, but did not know what had caused it. And it turned her comfort in combat right back to the anger she had felt at him before.

Something that was only intensified when she saw him hesitate...and fail to attack. Her own offense had been weak, shaky, there had been plenty of opportunity for even a novice fighter to gain an opening, and suddenly her yellow slit eyes opened wide in shock...but moreso...in rage.

"What wrong, Dhani?" Her voice was controlled, but only barely.

"You not fight, why? Because I weak? Because you hate Myrian?"

She had been circling him slowly, her stance primed and hostile like that of one of the large jungle cats, but as she uttered the word 'myrian' she lunged forward. The scimitar embedded itself stiffly into the ground and the half breed was flying through the air towards him. She seemed not to care for the blade that could easily skewer her, nor how swiftly Svan might be able to transform and end her life right then and there. All that mattered was shoving the full extent of her weight into his and toppling him to the ground.

Her eyes were wild and nearly too large for her head. Didn't he see that there was no greater dishonor than not to fight? If it did not speak of him as a coward, it spoke to her of being too weak. Strength and ability were secondary to will in a fight such as this, one that simply showed the purpose of the opponent. He had disgraced her twice, first with a kiss, second with his games, and now a third time with his lack of combat. She cared not if he was tired, if he was a warrior, if he would defend nature for Caiyha's benefit, he was a piss poor example.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH DHANI? WHAT HE SEE WRONG IN I?"

Her hands attempted to circle around his throat, seeking an answer, bits of mahogany hair cascading out of her tight Myrian braids and flying around her face. Strange how she could look so Myrian...yet there was something so snake-like in the feral eyes and cold gaze that assaulted the pure blooded Dhani in that moment.

[Licearsvansan]

What was wrong with him?

Svan couldn't answer her. Even if he knew why, it didn't matter. Svan's body refused him, and he couldn't even open his mouth to speak. He felt...disconnected. It was a strange feeling, like being awake but unable to move. Yet as Tinnok leapt forth Svan moved his blade to block. To block?! he shouted to himself. He should have impaled her, but instead he had turned the blade sideways as she crashed into him. The snake bounced backwards from the force of the blow, but even after the initial impact he remained standing. He was a Dhani, and it would take a more skilled tackle than that to knock him down.

Or not.

Svan's tired legs suddenly buckled under the Myrian's constant weight, and the snake quickly found himself mounted by the woman. Again he passed up a perfect opportunity to tease her actions. Partly because he wasn't in the mood to joke, but mostly because she was squeezing the air out of Svan's neck like a roll of toothpaste. The snake managed to whip his left had out to catch one arm, but, refusing to release his sword breaker, Svan had allowed the woman to wrap her left hand around his windpipe. He gurgled slightly as Tinnok bared her weight down into his throat. Her right hand slowly grew closer as the Dhani's strength left him. Staring into her eyes Svan could see the unbridled rage within them.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH DHANI? WHAT HE SEE WRONG IN I?" The questioned echoed in his mind. Bouncing off the walls of his skull and back to him.

He had no answer. Svan's mind was gone, sinking into a sea of something. He had surrendered control of his body and was now watching things play out as if he was possessed. His thoughts now were hazy and thin. His voice was nothing more than a whisper in his own head. The snake continued to sink, deeper and deeper into the depths of his mind. The further he went the harder it became to focus on his duel, and yet as one part of his mind closed another opened.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH DHANI? WHAT HE SEE WRONG IN I?"

The question bounced back again, but this time he felt it as if it where a physical force. The dull slap of the words against his face stirred something within him, and he felt the world around him grow hot. Again and again the words came slamming into him, and with each blow Svan felt himself being pushed deeper. He felt as he was swimming into a boiling sea, the thick inky water seared his skin, and as he felt it burn and coil around him he realized what it was. It wasn't fear, or love, or caution that caused him to act so strangely. It was because his mind was neck deep in a mire of black ugly rage.

As Tinnok's other hand grew closer Svan's throat, he suddenly pulled her arm across his chest and pushed up against her with all his might. With her base far to high and no arm to catch herself, Svan was able to sweep her over and pull himself on top of her. He raised his right hand high above her head with the tip of his blade aimed at her chest. His eyes were glaring hatefully into hers, up until the very last moment when he drove down the blade.

To a patch of ground far to the right of her. With out hesitation used his weapon as an anchor to pull himself quickly away from the woman. Stumbling only slightly as he rose, the Dhani turned around to face the woman. His breath was ragged, his muscles were aching, and bruises were already forming around his throat. Regardless Svan, held his blade ready at the woman, his expression still cruel and mocking almost as if daring the woman to stand up and stike him.

Within his mind Svan watched lazily though the ocean of rage as his body acted for him. He didn't even flinch when he noticed that he had passed on the opportunity to stab the woman. She could have likely caught his sword arm anyways, it wouldn't have been hard. Still, he had abandoned a favorable position for one that allowed her to fight back better. It was a strange feeling to watch as your body fought without you. Stranger still to know that it was actually just some unknown part of you that was taking control. It was if his conscious had switched with his subconscious. It was almost like he was in a-

-TRANCE!

Had Svan control of his actions he would have broken his leg off kicking himself. How had he been so stupid? He should have seen it the moment it started, before it had taken over. He was no stranger to this disembodied feeling. These episodes had grown fewer and father between since he had head out into the world, but they still tended to pop up when the Dhani's subconscious took notice of something that Svan failed to. It was something he had been trying to stop for years now. Stopping these things was the main reason he had become a follower of Caiyha in the first place. Irony would have it that he fall prey to it while fighting one of her marked children. He cursed himself. These "trances" as he called them were caused by both his fractured mind and his mothers corrupting influence. She had ingrained into his mind the idea that he should indulge entirely in any desire or feeling he had, regardless of the consequences. And in those brief moments when Svan's mind was usurped by his own subconscious, that that was exactly what he did. It was not that there wasn't ever any potential for good to arise from from it, these trances were after all caused by his desires. However, the danger of them was undeniable. They were often started by things he had purposely ignored, and the what ever wasn't directly related to his goal immediately became a potential casualty. Still, by far the most dangerous aspect of these trances was the chaotic nature of them. He never knew what his goal was, and often it wasn't until the trance had passed did he realize just what he had really done. The last time he had experienced a this he had only knocked down a irreplaceable family vase, and the time before that he set Samantha on fire. Unfortunately, the part that worried Svan was that the repercussions were not limited to others. In a time similar to this he had skewered himself on an enemy sword just so that he could punch the man. Svan hadn't noticed the hole in his chest until roughly 3 seconds after he had been un-impaled. This seemed different though. Usually when this happened mid-combat, the Svan's actions grew more aggressive, not more reserved. He couldn't explain the cause for it, but now that he knew what it was, he could stop it. Unfortunately, sometimes the only way out of hell is through it.

Without so much as a second thought Svan threw himself to the mercy of his own subconscious and the feeling of blind anger washed over him. As he did so he noticed something strange. It wasn't simple blind wrath that had caused this trance. At the core of it all, it was indignation.

[Tinnok]

She didn't know what happened, what strange event took place. She simply remembered her hands throttling his neck, eyes widening in surprise to see that he had even allowed her this far. No matter how strange a Dhani he was, her mind simply couldn't wrap around the idea that he would let her do this, what purpose it served.

And then the strength she had come to expect shoved her away. She saw his blade flash by her face, and for the second time that day, a potentially fatal blow was avoided as it sunk into the ground, Tinnok being shoved backward as Svan got to his feet.

The half breed scrambled back, getting to her feet, fingers searching for her scimitar. It lay some ways away, leaving her with her daggers instead. She rose slowly, eyeing the snake. His face...was nearly contorted with that same strange distaste that had graced it before. Strange, even with their first meeting he had not made such a face, and she couldn't fathom what would bring it on now.

Once again he stood passively, strange dagger sword in hand. Tinnok wanted to shout at him again, to goad him into an attack, yet if it hadn't worked yet, it was doubtful the ploy would work now. Instead the half breed charged forward...but this time, with a weapon she knew the ins and outs of far better. The long steel dagger she held in a reverse grip had a subtle curve of the blade that she enjoyed both for combat and for skinning kills.

To think of it...this wouldn't be the first time the blade had tasted Dhani flesh, either. The thought made her smile as her feet pounded ground, graceless this time, though she moved solely on the balls of her feet toward him. He hadn't seemed impressed with her attempt at flair, so she decided to see how he liked brute force.

Her stance was straight forward, her attack more so. Pivoting upon her right foot, her left came out as a kick towards the ribs, a strong enough blow in itself, and was followed through with her dagger, swinging in the same direction in a slash horizontally across Svan's chest, eyes wide with curiosity to see what he might do next.

[Licearsvansan]

Svan stood with Sword raised and breath heavy as the the woman prepared her assault. He watched as a hand moved to draw a smoothly curved dagger from its sheath. The woman moved the small weapon in her hand so that the tip of the blade faced the ground. Without warning, Tinnok came barreling forward with cruel intent. Svan's body adjusted slightly in preparation. As she came within striking distance her left leg rose, and Svan kicked back his right to turn himself to meet her. He had expected her to take a step, but instead realized his folly as the foot continued to rise. Acting more on instinct than anything, Svan smashed his right foot firmly against the ground and tightened his hands around his weapon. Not quite regaining his posture, Svan swung his weapon out like a bat. He felt the flat toothed edge of his cold iron blade smack hard against her shin bone, but not hard enough. The momentum of her kick continued through his failed parry, and he soon felt the impact of her kick upon his lower ribs. The snake groaned roughly and leaned forward to lessen the impact.

What happened next literally took his breath away. A flash of steel cut through the air, and a stream of blood chased it as the knife carved through Svan's chest. Svan's eyes widened for a moment, almost unable to believe that the blood was his. Then, in the very next moment he pushed away, warm blood still running like a small river down his chest. He staggered backwards, and a he freed a hand to bring it to the wound on his chest. It wasn't deep, but nor was it shallow. The blade had caught him just below the major pectoral muscle, and due to the attacks horizontal path it had been largely uninterrupted by bone.

As Svan took his final step backwards a bolt of pain shot through his body and his leg crumpled behind him. He landed with one foot on the ground and one knee in the mud. He held his bleeding side with his left hand and glared hatefully at the woman. S-She was holding back! he shouted to himself. He was certain of it, she had barely been able to hold her scimitar, but now she had nearly inflicted a mortal wound on Svan in a single blow. It ticked him off. Not just because it was insulting to know that she had gone easy one him before, but because she had done so when he knew he could have done better. Petch! he roared internally as he let his anger swallow him Petch, Petch PETCH! If I just had the strength. If only I wasn't so petching tired I- Svan stopped himself. What gave him any right to curse his weariness? He had fought plenty of duels and battles exhausted. What made this one any different? It wasn't because he was loosing. He had lost fights before, but rarely ever did he feel this sort of anger. Nor did he bear enough hatred towards the Myrian's or Constrictors for her race to be a matter. And yet still he felt an almost righteous rage filling his body.

It confused him to no end. He hadn't even felt quite like this when he had dueled Samantha, and just as with this fight he had fought her when his body was already on the verge of collapse. In fact, Svan had even been the one to-

Svan stopped mid thought as realization hit Svan like an Akalakan fist. Svan's eyes widened as he stared at the woman before him, and for nearly the first time in the entire fight, his gaze fell from her. He could scarcely believe the simplicity of it all. It was no small wonder that he had overlooked such a small detail. He stood there for half a second, blood slowly trickling out of his wound as he stared in disbelief at the ground. And then he laughed. It began with a silent chuckle, only hinted at by the sporadic rises and falls of his chest, but then it quickly grew into something of a mad man's cackle. Suddenly, he choked on a laugh and doubled over in pain. A loud hacking cough sounded throughout the clearing as the man coughed up blood onto the jungle floor. He didn't know whether the blood was a product of a wounded lung or his own overexertion, but it was a bad sign. One that Svan promptly ignored. Now his head was hanging low and his body was crouched over on the ground with both knees in the dirt and his hands pushing on the blade that he was using to hod up his weight. "What is wrong with Dhani? What do I see wrong with you?" He seethed in a loose regurgitation of her own words. The snake chuckled spitefully, "You see its funny because for the past few chimes I've been trying to answer that myself." Svan lifted his head just enough for a single hate filled eye to pierce through his tangled mess of hair and bore directly into hers once again. This time however, was different. It held more than the simple blind disdain for her that it had previously held. Now he knew exactly what about her, and this whole fight that caused him so much ire."But you know, I think I know what it is now", he spit as he struggled slowly to his feet. "I know its probably a surprise to you to hear this, but thing like honor aren't entirely foriegn to me. So when you challenged me to a fight I thought I understood. After all, its how I first met up with my Kelvic companion. And just like I fight you today, I fought her when I barely had the strength left to breath, let alone fight." Svan wobbled as slightly, still slowly trying to stand up, and raised a finger with his free hand into the air. "But that's where the similarities end. Because you see, I chose to fight her. Beaten, weary, and weaponless I challenged her knowing I had the disadvantage, and when I fought her I gave her everything I had and refused to disgrace her by holding back for even a second." Svan pointed his bloodstained finger at the halfbreed. "But you-" The snake smiled grimly and shook his head, "-you challenge a man who you know is half dead and have the gall to call it a battle of honor? You want to beat the shyke out of a guy who's ticked you off when he's at his weakest, you go ahead and do it, and I won't dare blame you because I've done it too! But you call it for what it is, and don't go about pretending that you're noble, or what you're doing somehow makes you righteous in any petching way!" Another shot of pain roared through the snake's body as he finished, and the man collapsed halfway to the ground again. Practically wheezing, and with a bit of blood dripping from his lips the snake looked up once again to the woman, and sneered. "And you're stupid enough to think that after everything I said that its your race I find disgusting." The snake let out a heavy sigh and began to rise for the third time. Though still shaky, there was a certain firmness to his stance as he willed his body to obey him regardless of how much it begged him to stop. "But I'm no coward, I'm going to stand here and take everything you throw at me until my legs give out, but don't you think for even a moment that I would stain what little honor I have by fighting back in this sham of a duel. I won't give someone like you the satisfaction of an honest effort, but if you have so little pride that it can be sated by beating a man who's on his last breath then come on and hit me! Strike me down with your strongest blow, end my life for all I care!"

"I'm a Dhani after all, isn't that all that matters?!"

[Tinnok]

The first thought that crossed her mind when she saw the strip of crimson cross his chest was: Why the petch did he let that hit? The second one that flashed quite rapidly afterward was. What the petch did you just do abomination?

And as the crimson flowed down over his tired skin, Tinnok wasn't quite sure. Her dagger fell to the ground with a dull thud, bouncing softly before coming to a stand still, and her body moved forward to catch him as he fell, but something stopped her...something in the way his gaze lost none of its ferocity, even though gravity claimed his body.

Then he laughed, she saw blood come out of his mouth and she took another shaky step forward, towering over his weakened frame. Why did this trouble her so, this injury? Why did it pain her to look upon? As he came to his realization, she came to her own as well. She didn't understand why he didn't fight, why he didn't try, that was what made her anger most of all. Was it that she was not strong enough, he didn't even deign injure her? but then why did he take such a bad blow to her blade?

She took a step back as he spoke, her own gaze shifting gradually from worry, to rage. The more the words spilled out of his mouth the tighter her teeth clenched together, furious.

As he rose Tinnok took one step back, and then another, and another.

When he asked his question she snorted. "If you are Dhani, you are weakest one I ever see."

Her eyes were downcast upon the ground, but she looked up. "You are weak. Not because of what done before I challenge, but mind, you are so weak. I see you hold back. You could injure me as I have you, but you choose not. Weak. I should be bleeding on ground, but I not."

She paced forward, her calm but furious tone suddenly loud. "You are Dhani! Race every Myrian learn to fear, to hate, to beat. You are strong, strongest of all, but you? You not shift to fight me, you just stand. If you not honor me with true fight, than no fight at all. I show you what I have, I show you my own skill, weak, but growing every day. You show me nothing, and now you just whine."

She rubbed her face and walked up to him, close so their noses nearly touched. "You in no condition to fight, but no call me dishonor, for it is your spirit that is lack, not body." She placed a hand upon the bloody wound, holding it there.

Then she did something that neither her nor the Dhani could have been expecting: She leaned forward and kissed him. She wasn't quite sure what had brought it on, for now was certainly not the time for such an action, if ever there was a time to kiss any being of the snake race. Something, however, made it feel right to her in that moment, and her lips, softer than they might appear, brushed lightly against his own, before pulling away, wherein she shoved him bodily downward.

"Now sit, foolish Dhani, we need to repair chest."

Her mouth twitched. "I am even for kiss, but you still owe me real battle, for you dishonor me twice, once for arrow, again for shyke you call fighting."

She began shifting around the edge of clearing, collecting leaves and moss, returning when she had a solid handful to sit before the Dhani, curious to see his reactions.

[Licearsvansan]

first reaction to her words was one of both bewilderment and and anger. Weak of spirit?! Petch you! Did you not hear me? Barehanded and exhausted I fought a tiger in the dead of petching winter, and WON! What else do I have to do? Fight a bear?! Upon remembering Artur however, Svan decided that a bear would be a step backwards from a tiger. That is unless Svan had a slab of meat tied around his neck...

As the woman approached, Svan's pushed on his blade in a hopeless attempt to drive her back. He was far too weak to push her now, and, while strongly tempted, he decided she wasn't worth stabbing. Before long the two were mere inches apart, and Svan was fight EVERY urge to strike her. Every moment that passed was a missed opportunity, and yet with each Svan felt better about himself. Restraint was not something he was skilled at and right now he felt as if he was holding back a flood. For him, each time he stayed his blade was a small victory, and now that he was out of his trance they were victories he deserved. Even as Tinnok went on insulting him Svan felt his rage lessening and his satisfaction growing. She thought him weak? So what, she was a jungle savage. Of COURSE she would think his act of passive resistance weak, he wouldn't even be surprised if the entire Myrian race had never heard of such a thing. Any yet there was something about it all that bothered him. This time however, he knew exactly what it was.

Before he could say anything though, he felt the woman lean in for a kiss. Svan's blade tried for a moment to resist, but his push was weak and half hearted. Before he knew it her lips were locked with his and their bodies were separated by nothing more than a scrap of clothing and a swordbreaker between them pressing into both of their chests. There was a metaphor here, but Svan for the life of him didn't know what it was. Svan couldn't have said that he hated it. Of course, in this current situation he couldn't say that he liked it either. Svan was torn between between killing her, and kissing her. It was too bad that his current form lacked venom, otherwise he could have done both.

Before he could choose any response, Tinnok drew back and pushed him to the ground. Svan might have had dirty thoughts about what was going on right now, but he was to busy trying to ignore the roaring pain running through his entire body from the fall.

"Now sit, foolish Dhani, we need to repair chest."

Svan wasn't so much sitting as he was lying on his back writhing in pain, but Tinnok seemed to take it as some sort of compliance. She spoke a few more stupid words about being dishonored, and then headed to the edge of the clearing to find some plants to heal Svan. By the time she returned, Svan was already gone. Well, sort of. He hadn't left the clearing, he had just stood up and walked to the center of it. When he noticed that Tinnok saw him Svan stopped in place and turned halfway to her. His rage was gone, but his eyes remained firm like steel. He was standing unwavering and straight, with small beads of sweat rolling down his face being the only indication of just how much of his energy it was taking to merely stand. "There is something I just don't get about you Tinnok. You claim to grow, but just like yesterday you are a hypocrite onto the very words that you speak. You say I'm shameful because I held back, but so did you until forced." Svan motioned to her scimitar. "You say I'm weak because I lack the blood thirst of my cousins, but you also damn them for their cruelty. And above all else, you say that I lack in spirit because refuse to strike down my enemy, and yet you have done the same. Fighting, Tinnok, is easy. Running away is also easy. But standing firm when someone is trying to knock you down, and choosing to turn my blade away from an enemy...thats not easy. At least not for a Dhani. That takes strength, and its not strength I always had. I actually thought you would understand that. For a moment I thought you were something other than a savage who only knows how to think with the end of a sword. Did I give up a chance to kill you today? Maybe, but didn't you do the same for me yesterday. You had the chance to kill a enemy of your kind and you chose to do something different. You chose to find an answer that didn't end with someone's blood on the ground. But if you really believe what you say, then I guess maybe you consider yourself weak for sparing me. His voice was strong but soft, and as it approached the end there was even a twinge of sorrow. Once he finished, Svan simply shook his head and turned away.

He began heading back to his camp. With each step a wave of exhaustion soared through his body, but he walked on as if it didn't exist. Willing himself to keep moving regardless of his pain. "I have medicine in my bag, I will patch myself u-" Svan never finished. His willpower was formidable, but his body did not always respond to it. And as Svan took another stride, his will faltered, and in one swift motion he collapsed to the ground unconscious. Whether he had gone out upon hitting the ground or before could not be said. Nor could it be known whether it had been bloodloss or pure exhaustion that had driven him to this point.

All that mattered now, was that Svan was lying face first on the ground in a small pool of blood.

[Tinnok]

Ach. And Tinnok thought she spoke too much.

She listened, but the more he spoke, the more his words started making sense. He was saying many things that her own mind had gone through on her journey growing up raised by Myrians. They thought her weak for saving small animals, taught her ruthlessness above all....

And she was comparing these traits to the Constrictors of Zinrah with Svan, even though just a day before they had discussed in great detail how he was so different from his cousins. She was still not convinced his lack of retaliation could be called anything, least of all...restraint, but the Myrian turned to say something that was not an argument...

When she saw his body began to flag.

She wasn't close enough to catch him, but she was close enough to fall on the ground beside him, turning his body over upon its back.

The half breed grimaced. If only he had leaned forward a bit the wound wouldn't have been so deep. Then again...if it hadn't he may have never shut up.

Tinnok glanced in the direction the Dhani was walking, but did not want to bring the severely wounded Dhani back to a camp with another Myrian and a Kelvic tiger. It seemed a recipe for disaster that the witch was in no mood for.

Instead she brushed the sweaty hair out of his eyes, kneeling beside his chest, and focused within herself. She found that center she had slowly begun to learn after meeting with Asheera, the knowledge of reimancy branded into her soul. She reached within and pulled it out, letting it slide under her skin and be released through the tips of her fingers on either hand.

It was an exhilarating feeling, this pushing of one's essence into reality, and Tinnok wondered vaguely if that was what made the Sorceress so crazy, feeding off the hunger this power left behind. But that was a conversation for another day.

With two fingers trailing a stream of djed she traced the outline of Svan's wound, feeling her strength ebb somewhat as the essence left her body. Once she had surrounded the red line she focused upon the purple grey subtstance, willing it into the element she knew: water.

For a brief moment the liquid seemed frozen like ice, shimmering down below Syna's light, then it resumed its natural state and broke apart, splashing into the wound and spilling out over his chest, clearing out most of the dirt and debris Svan had collected when he fell chest first into the dirt.

Tinnok vaguely wondered if there was any water more sterile than the nubile form of a Reimancer's djed.

More blood was flowing out of the wound, however, and that was blood the Dhani didn't have to spare. Tinnok sopped up excess with a few bits of moss, and began to place the leaves she had collected directly upon the wound. The moss could easily get stuck in the flesh, but the soft side of these plants, with their tiny fibers worked much like a cloth bandage to absorb the blood, and could peel off in sections. Once the wound was covered, Tinnok deliberated on the position of his body. If she propped him up, would that be worse, as the blood would flow straight out of the wound? Or would it be better?

She decided that at the very least the blood needed to cake and coagulate before he moved much, so she left the Dhani there and went to find some real water, eyes darting back to his form every few ticks to make sure he was staying put.

She didn't have far to go before finding a small wandering stream, and she filled up her water skin and returned to the clearing, opening his lips and letting the liquid trickle down between them.

That completed the extent of Tinnok's medical knowledge. Seeing as the bleeding seemed to at least have been stoppered by the leaves, the half breed sat back and waited for the Dhani to wake, musing on what he had said.

[Licearsvansan]

After a chime or so of lying still on the jungle floor, Svan's eyelids slowly blinked open. As his eyes adjusted to the light he was met with the sight of Tinnok resting next to him. His mind hurried to understand what was going on. He was lying, still exhausted, on the ground. There was a beautiful half naked woman next to him. And the last memories he had were fuzzy ones of a kiss and being pushed to the ground by this woman. Naturally, Svan's mind drew the obvious conclusion.

"BY THE GODDESS! DID WE P-" Svan bolted upright and his question was cut short by the sudden pain of his wound. As his hand went to his side, flickering memories of their duel began to flood back into his head. The brown haired man's face went as red as blood. He was quickly realizing how wrong his first assumption had been. "I-I-I..." Svan stuttered as he tried to defy logic and will the words he had already said back into his mouth. Failing, Svan closed his mouth and gulped as if swallowing the last four letters he had meant to say. His head to the ground in embarrassment. His eyes locked onto the roughly cleaned wound and he realized that she had tended to him despite his resistance. Even he could tell that the job was slipshod, but it was obvious that she had put a good deal of effort into it. It wasn't helping his guilt in the slightest.

Svan bit his bottom lip as he struggled to find some way to break the awkward tension now filling the air. He certainly didn't have the courage to look at her to read her expression. Frankly, he was terrified of what it might be. He was at least glad that his mess of hair was long enough to his most of his ruby red blushing face. After a few moments of pondering the benefits of biting his tongue off, Svan thought of what he should say.

He briefly massaged his throat, pointed to his wound, and softly whispered a thanks. Then with an obviously nervous smiled stretched across his face, Svan looked back up to the woman. "So um, I'm going to assume you came here with some other reason aside from scaring the shyke outta me by shoving an arrow in my face?" Though he said a statement, he asked it like a question. More importantly, Svan's voice lacked both its natural lisp and vitriolic tones. With nothing more to say Svan closed his mouth, and awaited an answer.

It seemed that for once the Dhani was not only low on blood, but words as well.

[Tinnok]

She wasn't sure whether to be happy or furious as Svan's body bolted upright, perhaps tearing open any sealant the leaves had made. Though his face winced in pain, her strange make shift bandaging seemed to hold. She hoped to some Goddess above that his companions knew more of medicine than she.

At his almost exclamation, Tinnok's eyebrows shot upwards. What sort of being did he think she was to petch an unconscious body? Well the shift in his expression and reddening of his cheeks seemed to suggest that it hadn't been meant in seriousness, so Tinnok shifted back a few paces and decided to let it go.

It was strange, all the distaste and anger the Dhani seemed to have pent up was gone. And Tinnok had been ready to tell him he was right too...Instead of bringing up the past few chimes, he instead asked her a question.

Why had she come again? Tinnok shook her head slightly, trying to remember. The petcher himself seemed to stir up so many strange and conflicting thoughts within it was hard to keep them all straight...and that look he had given her when he had been first appraising the situation upon consciousness...

But his voice brought her back to the heart of the issue. Yes she had wanted to get even with him...and it seemed like she had done that in one sense or another already, but there was something else...something more pressing.

"You no speak like other Dhani, with hiss. And other day, you shift hand to claw. How?"

It was a simple and interrelated question that had been nagging TInnok for the past 24 bells...and if the Dhani was going to glance over the past bell or so...well she might as well discuss it.

[Licearsvansan]

The snake let out a soft sigh of relief when Tinnok decided to ignore what he had almost said only moments before. Svan realized that he had been angry with her before he went unconscious, but staying angry after letting out such a freudian slip was fairly difficult. Frankly, he was surprised that she took it so well. He had said what he assumed was one of the rudest things one could say to a Myrian woman, and yet here he was completely unscathed. Well, mostly.

When asked about his morphing Svan bit his lip and chewed over the thought of denying her an answer. He enjoyed keeping secrets. The secrets he kept were the only reason he still drew breath because the less people knew about him, the better equipped he was to catch them by surprise. Still, this woman had rescued him. Of course Tinnok was also responsible for tearing open a short cut to Svan's lungs. Still thinking, the snake pulled himself upright folded his legs together in a manner reminiscent of their first meeting. By the time he was comfortable, Svan had finally decided what he was going to say.

"So you want to know how I'm able to do things like this?" Svan massaged a finger and pulled on the nail until it shifted into a small talon. He looked Tinnok in the eyes and smiled, "Well I guess it can't hurt to be honest with you." He gaze went down to his hand and he looked at it as if recalling old memories. "I told you that there are different kinds of Dhani in the world right? Well I kinda made a lie of omission in not telling you the whole truth. You see, many years back we Dhani were all alike. This however, changed with the Valterrian. When it happened we Dhani were split up and each of us changed radically. For us Rattlers, something happened that changed us even more so than our brethren. Way way back when we first started crawling back out of our holes, we Dhani chanced upon a group of Kelvics that had taken residence near our nest. Eager to find a bondmate, the Kelvics quickly opted to joined the recovering Dhani society, and the Dhani, needing assistance to repair the nest, were happy to have the Kelvics. Between the need of Dhani to repopulate with our own kind and the massive lifespan differences between the two races, not much happened romantically between the two groups. That is until one Rattler known as Vassanserrac decided to petch with his golden eagle bondmate. The result was a strange halfling that was stuck as a human with traits resembling both a snake and an eagle, with the morphing abilities of neither. I'm not going to go into details about how horribly the nest responded to Serrac's deed since it will suffice to say that the Kelvic were violently expelled from the nest, and only the halfing was allowed to stay. From what I am told, that halfling was ostracized from the nest for the longest, until one Dhani looked past the halflings soiled blood and the pair got married. Where this ties in to me is what happened next. Their children were 3/4ths Dhani, and because of this they were able to shift like purebloods, albeit a little slower. However, what was really amazing was that some of the eagle kelvic blood remained in the children and rooted itself in the Dhani's shape-shifting abilities. The blood wasn't strong enough to allow a shift to a complete eagle, but several traits remained." Svan smile as he looked back up to Tinnok. "As the blood of these children went down the line, the eagle-like shifts remained. The original children could morph talons onto their hands and feathers like a mane around their heads, but I'm limited to just the talons and I have to focus to add them. As for the lisp? I just practiced speaking without it." Svan had told he kept his face honest and tone reflective. Even as he looked at Tinnok, his voice didn't waver and his smile seemed as sincere as the day was long. He kept this honest expression several moments after he finished, and then like a deflating balloon, he collapsed.

The term "roaring with laughter" just barely managed to describe the uproar that Svan was making as he fell over onto the ground. He was clutching tightly against the wound on his chest and punctuating each fit of laughter he shouted, "It hurts! It hurts! Oh Goddess I can't BREATH!" Eventually Svan's laughter died down into a soft giggling cry as he lay on his side still holding his achieving wound. "Okay- Okay..." he gasped between breaths as he worked his way back into a sitting position. "I didn't mean to I lie I just-" Svan shrugged. Even he wasn't entirely sure why he had concocted such a story. "Practice I guess." Giving no further explanation for his lie, the snake leaned forward, still grinning. "Truth is its a magic known as morphing. Yeah I know, real original name. I learned it from a book. Its what lets me change things like my fingernail into claws, or adjust my voice. All the rest of the stuff you have seen me do is natural though."

Svan leaned back and relaxed himself. "Sadly, the truth is less exiting."