[Zith] Safety in Numbers… (Vanator)

[Isabelle]

Safety in Numbers… 70th of Summer 513AV| Sea of Grass Isabelle had just dismounted from the back of her beloved Strider, eyes scanning the horizon’s edge and the sky between. There were none of those retched creatures to speak of, which meant she was safe for now. Once satisfied that she was indeed as safe as possible in this massive land-sea the Drykas took to removing first her Yvas bags and the required tent and bedding supplies. Dropping the sleeping supplies to the ground, along with her two bags Isabelle cooed softly and whispered sweet words to her horse while undoing the harness that was the main portion of her Yvas, the last thing she removed was the purple striped blanket that lain across the back of her Strider. Turning from her Strider, but never allowing it fully out of her sight, Isabelle fumbled through her bags to locate her grooming kit. I can never seem to find what I want in these bags. Why must I just throw everything within it? She grumbled to herself before finally giving a cry of satisfaction when she found the worn leather roll that held her grooming tools within. The wind rustling the Sea’s waist high stalks of grass was the only accompanying sound Isabelle had currently, her eyes always casting about; safety was never to be lax in times like such. Those bloody Zith could attack at a moment’s time. Putting brush to horse Isabelle turned her attention n to her dun’s coat, it echoed the beauty and terror that resided in Isabelle’s dreams and soul. The brush gliding through Wildfire’s mane, coat, and tail was memorizing and it nearly caused the Rider to forget her surroundings and vigilant need to keep a constant eye and ear out for her Strider and herself protection. The sound that alerted her was a soft rustling sound, practically blending into the Sea’s natural rustling. ”Caution. Possible attack. Remain vigilant. Run if Zith. Get Aid.” She kept her voice low as she whispered into her horse’s ear. Without a weapon on hand Isabelle lowered the brush to her side and shifted her grip on it. It wasn’t a very long brush. And it would probably crack in half with the first blow, but she was willing to take the chance if it meant she had the upper hand in this situation. “Show yourself and state your name.” She called out in Common, the tongue most foreigners used. To be on the safe side, the blue skinned men maybe troubled by the Zith as well… "Show yourself and state your name." She managed to grunt and growl in the Akalak language, it was a hard sentence to accomplish for her. One that she had to pause or repeat the words several times to get them right enough to be comprehended as she intended. She was half tempted to speak in her native tongue, but to get the full feel of it she would need to know that the being coming through the grasses could actually see her moving hands. I want to give credit to whoever created the Endrykas CS Template found on the CS Templates Thread in the Character Sheets Section!

[Vanator]

The couple had selected a site to set up camp. Sybel and Vanator had ventured into the grass to get away, as only a Drykas (and a woman who had dwelt among them) would find such a perilous venture recreational. With a nod to Sybel to keep her eyes open, Van slipped from his yvas into the knee high grass.

Under his lover's diligent gaze, Van focused his djed and his energy on the strands of the Web that appeared upon his concentration. It was fairly well intact in this area, the warm glow of its strands stretching across the softly undulating terrain. He allowed his being to cross into the djed network, run along the strands examining junctures and crossing points nearby for indication of predators, or less likely travelers, nearby. A significant signature appeared, a Drykas connected to the web itself, and her Strider with her....alone.

Vanator withdrew again to himself standing and looking up at Sybel. "There is someone not far off, a lone Drykas. If you look carefully, I bet you can catch a glimpse of them. I am gong to check it out, if you want to take a break and stretch your legs." He reached out to give her firm calf a squeeze and flash a wink before climbing back atop Sirroco. Then Van urged the Strider towards the stranger, his mount eating up the grassland beneath his hooves.

Once in the area, Vanator slowed, dropping from his yvas. He spotted the woman, grooming her mount, oblivious to her surroundings. The Drykas man shook his head. Lion food. He approached her from below a rise, not necessarily sneaking, but not announcing himself. Finally, she took note, and he heard her speak out in, of all things, Tukant. He didn't understand what she said, but Vanator stepped over the rise to reveal himself. There she stood, threatening him with nothing more than a brush.

Vanator crossed his arms over his chest and scowled as Sirocco moseyed up next to him. "Do I look like an Akalak? Why in the four corners of Cyphrus are you talking like them? What are you doing out here alone? You don't even have a weapon! Did someone paint a Windmark on you? Every child in every pavilion knows you have to pay attention every second when you are in the grass, especially if alone. If I were a night lion, you would be in my belly by now, or a Zith...even worse." Vanator unleashed a tirade at the young Drykas woman, his harsh rebuke born out of concern for his people, who could not afford to lose anyone, even foolish ones.

[Isabelle]

Alone? Well, yes I guess I am. Or at least wise. ”I have been riding in search of safe havens throughout the seas from the Zith. I was hoping to add their locations to the Web as to better our peoples survivals. I do agree that my actions were not in the smartest to make, but they were mine alone.” She snapped, lowering the brush as her other hand flourished a series of word combinations to further prove her growing realization of stupidity in her actions. ”If you were a night lion, Wildfire would’ve defended me unto death.” A smug answer, but it was an honest one. ”I am assuming you are offering refuge in your camp over yonder?” Isabelle pointed towards the crowd of shadows she could see milling about a ways over. ”If not, at least stay with me and my Strider. I have plenty of room in the tent for you both.” Isabelle pointed to her Yvas bag, the contents of which were an utter mess, inside one could see a tent pole here, a spike here, maybe a bit of twine there to hold the spike to the tent’s side… Lastly there was the small visible hint of the actual tent’s canvas-like wall material crumbled up and shoved into the depths of the bag. ”I will admit, it doesn’t look like much… Well, it looks like a mess right now, but it is my home.” Isabelle offered as a confession of sorts. She waved her hands afterwards, “I care not though for how it looks within the bag, as long as it protects me from the elements.” Isabelle turned her gaze up at the Drykas man, “And for you information my Windmark has been a part of me for the last eleven winters. You dare call me an imposter to my kind?” Her eyes narrowed as a growled rumbled in her throat. Wildfire snorted and pawed at the ground with one hoof as he turned to snort into Vanator’s face. I want to give credit to whoever created the Endrykas CS Template found on the CS Templates Thread in the Character Sheets Section!

[Vanator]

As the indignant young woman set Vanator right with a firm tone, the Denusk broke into a laugh. "No, you are Drykas indeed, you certainly do have spirit." Vanator nodded his head, acknowledging her. "I have no reason to question your Windmark, and we can attribute your noble but ill-conceived plans to the zealously of youth." Van's jibe was softened with a broad smile. The girl was rather remarkable in appearance, petite and fit, with a braided mohawk adorning her crown, and several small burn scars marring her otherwise attractive features. Her windmark laced around her forearm. wrist and fingers with intricate knots.

The Denusk man looked around, seeing no weapon amidst the supplies lying about. Who raised this child? "I am Vanator of the Denusk Pavilion, Sapphire Clan. I am traveling with...a companion. You may join us, or if you would rather stay here in your camp, we can make camp here. No one should be out in the grass alone."

[Isabelle]

“Well met I assume then Vanator. I am Isabelle, of the Windweavers Pavillion, also of the Sapphire Clan.” Isabelle had to stop the urge to bow in response to the full directness of her name. Looking back at the duo of riders she smiled and nodded, “I would rather stay camp here. I have already relieved my beloved horse of the task he takes on everyday and I rather not burden him so soon.” Holding up the brush, “Besides, I still have yet to finish brushing him down. If I don’t complete this task he’ll be far angrier with me for not completing this ritual than he would for me rehanging my bags from his back.” As if to confirm Isabelle’s words her Strider nudged his snout into her face gently, this gave the girl a startled look and then she patted his nose gently with a giggle and an even wider smile. “See?” She took to brushing the horse down, “If you don’t mind setting up camp. I can tend to both our horses and then help in anyway I can.” Isabelle looked up at Vanator, “You don’t have to, but I would appreciate it.” I want to give credit to whoever created the Endrykas CS Template found on the CS Templates Thread in the Character Sheets Section!

[Vanator]

Vanator was pleased to hear that Isabelle was a fellow clanswoman. She was a rather curious sight. Her most striking feature was her hair. The sides of her head were shaven, leaving a robust mohawk of hair in a ridge along the top of her crown from front to back, flowing into a long braid. It reminded the Denusk of a glassbeak. The girl, barely more than a teen by his estimate, had a deep caramel color, which seemed to emphasize the few, small burn scars that marred her youthful face. As always when meeting another Drykas, Van sought signs of a Windmark. Isabelle bore hers on her left hand, an intricate and interesting design that wrapped around fingers and weaved its way to her wrist.

Aside from the traditional greeting, the woman did not offer any further honorifics to the older clansman, instead she subtly instructed him to set up camp. Isabelle was polite about it, coating it in pleasantries, but it was instruction nonetheless. Vanator rankled momentarily at the girl's nerve, to give him a task to perform. Newly met, the Ankal gave the young Drykas a reprieve from his rebuke, for now.

"Very well, but be careful he doesn't nip at your arse." Vanator joked. Vanator surveyed the campsite, Isabelle's supplies still in a pile. The Denusk relieved his Strider stallion of his own gear, then removed the yvas. "Behave yourself." Van warned the horse with a raised finger. Sirocco snorted and shook out his mane, and Vanator gave him a firm pat on the neck.

Vanator pulled his bow free, looking out across the grass to the small figure of Sybel and Eplah. He raised the weapon above his head and waved it at her, summoning her to join them. Van went ahead and unpacked the tent he and Sybel shared, and taking Isabelle's from her pile, he opened them both and laid them side by side.

Vanator set the poles, ran lines from the corners to stakes that he pounded into the ground with the back of his hand ax. It was a well practiced routine, and after he erected the small awning that served as cover for Sirocco, he went about setting up Isabelle's tent. It was similar to, but not exactly like his own, but it did not take long to assemble it next to the first. He noted a war club amongst the other supplies the girl had unloaded, and he picked it up and dropped it next to her as he walked by. "Keep that close."

Next, Vanator moved out a bit from the camp, a sharp broken branch in his hand. About a hundred feet out, he knelt down and drove the piece of wood into the ground. Then he sat in front of it. Focusing his attention, the Drykas forced himself to ignore the world around him until he had quieted his mind. Then, closing his eyes, he began to mumble in a deep monotone. The syllables had no meaning, they were simply a repetition the man had adopted to help him slip into a webbing trance.

Vanator's consciousness slipped, and he began to draw upon his own djed, creating a thin strand that he began to weave around the wood. His origin was simple, his skill still novice, but the web would only be temporary and limited it space. From there he ran glowing djed threads around the camp, a perimeter around the area, and then weavings that encompassed both tents. Vanator returned the circuit to the origin, and tied off the web. A quick run through the strands ensured it was intact and functioning. Finally tying himself to the djed web, he ran a line to a section of the larger web nearby. The Denusk lingered in the larger Cyphrus Web, tempted to run down its broad lanes, seeking what was lost. But he had traveled that road when he first found a shred of the Web last Fall. Vanator had indulged himself in looking for his family, went further than he should have, and almost did not return.

The Drykas man withdrew from the beautiful network and slipped back into his corporeal body. The task had taxed him only a little, making him a bit slow standing up, a subtle pressure pushing at his temples from the webbing effort.

Rising, Vanator returned to find Isabelle grooming Sirocco. He grinned slightly and patted his Strider's nose. "Is she doing a good job my friend?" Sybel had arrived astride her Desertbred, and Van looked up at the raven-haired woman. "This is Isabelle, she is also of the Sapphire Clan. We can let a kinswoman camp out alone." A warm smile crossed his face, knowing Sybel would understand. They had had several nights alone, and would have more before returning to the Sanctuary.

[Isabelle]

Isabelle noted the club at her feet, it was a broken pole or something she probably had stuffed her bags so long ago and forgotten about it. Snorting at it she kept brushing out her horse's mane, the shimmering highlights flicking as the brush drove its bristles to the tips. It was a long process and one she relished, quickly turning over to the second horse with a hand on hips motion she looked at it as it snorted. “Now now, you heard the man.” She held the brush up, “You want a brushin' or do you want me to leave the burrs and spores to grow roots amongst your mane?” A question she knew the horse couldn't understand word wise, but the brush was a pretty good indication of what she meant by her words. Well brushing she watched her clansman plant a stick in the ground and concentrate on it. She smiled knowing the telltale sign of tapping into the Web, being competent in the art herself Isabelle left the man to his weaving, a simple point amongst the Web's intricate design and appearance. Not to disturb the man in his work the Drykas teen took her time and pleasure in brushing out and untangling the knots that formed from the burrs and grass spores that come from a day's ride. It was a long time before she finished the work she set out to do amongst both horses and she turned to greet the other rider. A desert horse upon which sat an ebony haired beauty. “I have done well for the horse now you leave him to rest. Horses get tired from carrying us all day. Yours by the looks of it more so than mine or hers.” She gestured to Sybel. I want to give credit to whoever created the Endrykas CS Template found on the CS Templates Thread in the Character Sheets Section!