Closed A Drykas To Be (Nate)

[Arundel]

513 AV, 15th Day of Fall

Arundel stood and stretched out the tight muscles of her back, groaning as a delicious shiver snaked its way up her spine. Camp was officially set for the night. The sun was approaching its resting place at the western horizon, and already the moon was visible faintly in the darkening blue sky. It would be light for another few bells, but night was fast approaching. The group had stopped at a more or less ideal spot at the edge of one of the small woods that dotted Cyphrus. Though the land was predominantly grassland, these things weren't a rarity. Their northward course had brought them closer to the more wooded areas of the Sea, so trees were becoming a common sight. Her eyes raked over the rest of their camp - Tsarvik's tent and the spot in which the horses grazed not too far away.

She and Nathan's companion was off hunting in the thick, albeit small woods, leaving the Drykas and her ward alone, though she'd sent him to collect some deadfall and tinder for their fire, while she finished pitching the tents. Arundel sauntered over to the area she had picked for the blaze a few yards from the shelters. The grass wasn't all that thick this close to the trees, but she lowered herself to her knees and took the time to pull what roughage their was from the earth, until mostly bare soil was left. She tossed the clumps further out, letting the debris disappear in the throngs that danced slowly in the light breeze. Grunting quietly, she pushed off her knees and rose to her feet, brushing her fingers on her breeches. Arundel turned back to examine the woods, peering into the trees, trying to spot some movement. When nothing caught her eye, she frowned and returned to her tent.

Stored safely inside was all of her and Nathan's gear. From her backpack she retrieved a lightly used flint and steel. Not many opportunities had arisen for her to use the pair of tools before. Back outside, Arundel returned to the uneven circle she'd stripped of grass. Kneeling once more in the dirt, she set the fire starters aside and began to dig a shallow pit with her hands. It was dirty work, and clumps of earth became stuck under her short nails. If she were a vain woman, it would have bothered her. After toiling down several inches, the soil which was churned up and disturbed began to pile at her knees. She spread the upturned earth around the wide, uneven hole in the place of stones. Even after searching for half a bell, she had been unable to find enough rocks large enough to construct a border for their fire tonight. She hoped this would suffice. Perhaps Nathan or Tsarvik could think of something better.

Arundel rocked back on her haunches and admired her handy work. It was a rough job, and not all that attractive, but it looked good enough to her. They would be moving on in the morning anyways, and the shallow hole would be filled in again.

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

Very few things in life were certain. Life just wasn't built on black and white, everything was in shades of gray. Even Nate's opinion on Endrykas was not as clear-cut as he wanted it to be. He wanted to hate everything in it and everything about it, but the fact was there were parts of it that he found appealing. Syliras respected hunters, but Endrykas more than respected them, they needed them. There was an entire clan of them. And unlike the imperious doctors of Syliras in their mighty hospitals, the healers of the tent city were much more like him; working with the land, understanding that in the field sometimes one had to use imagination as well as knowledge.

But there was one thing that Nate was absolutely sure of; certain about. He did not like Tsarvik. At all. The man was rude and arrogant and confirmed everything that Nate hated most about the Drykas. Then again, thus far Tsarvik had been the only one to behave in this fashion to Nate; most of the other Drykas had either been coldly distant and on occasion a few had been pleasant and friendly, or at least seemed to try to be. Perhaps, like any population, the Drykas had their share of vagiks. Sylir knew, the Sylirans sure did.

Arundel had sent him out to gather firewood, and Nate had brought along his kukri to do the job. The worn but well-maintained blade was well-suited to cutting and chopping tasks, and was more often employed as a tool than it was as a weapon. Nate knew that, ultimately, he might come to a point where he'd have to call upon the kukri in a life-or-death situation, so he tried to train with the blade as much as he could. But in truth, he felt that if he was reduced to using his kukri then something had gone terribly wrong. A hunter should never be that physically close to either predator or prey.

The small wood was not anything like the woods of Syliras, with massive trunks that stretched to the sky, blotting out Syna's light a times, with delicate beams of orange occasionally peeking in from the thick canopy. Despite the trees this place still felt like a grass plain; the trunks were leaner and spread further apart, there wasn't really a "canopy" to speak of, and some of the plants here were utterly foreign. Nate really wish he could've had more time to learn the plants of the area; without a firm grasp on which ones were medicinal, which ones were edible, and which ones were to be avoided at all costs, he was forced to ignore the vast majority of them for safety's sake.

Regardless, he wasn't here to forage anyway, although Nate really felt that any opportunity to forage in a survival situation should be taken so long as it didn't interfere with other important duties. Nate noted the bright yellow heads of wild dandelions. The brightly colored weed was everywhere, it seemed, which was appropriate. They were hardy plants that grew wherever they could, and he was hardly surprised to see them thriving here as well. But there really weren't sufficient quantity to bring back to camp as a meal, so Nate just twisted off the head of several, squeezing out the bitter white sap and popping them into his mouth. It wasn't much of a meal, but in the wilds you took what you could get.

Deadfall was fairly easy to acquire, as given that it was Fall, many branches had fallen over the course of the season and from the storms that had whipped through the region in the past. Finding tinder was a bit trickier, however. Nate needed something that was dry and caught fire easily. Ideally something cottony and soft, like dried moss, but there didn't seem to be any such moss around. Nate's eyes fell upon the trees in the area; their bark looked relatively dry.

Taking his kukri, he scraped the sharp edge against the grain of the bark, shaving off dry strips of it into his hands until he had a handful of the shavings. The bark was mostly dry, and by the time he returned with it should be fully dry. It wasn't ideal, but it would serve with a little work. Picking up the deadfall he'd collected, Nate headed back to camp, making sure to first put his kukri safely back into his belt.

Arundel had already dug a pit for their fire, which was good because a fire pit would be easier to collapse and snuff than an open one, and they may need to move fairly quickly. Walking over, Nate examined the pit briefly, and decided it was fine for their purposes, so he placed the tinder in the center of the pit, indicating that Arundel could light it to start the fire. He placed the smaller branches and deadfall he'd collected off to the side.

"So, has our 'friend' showed up yet?" Nate asked, the disdain obvious in his voice. Nate saw no need to make any secret of his dislike of the man, and he openly displayed it to both Arundel and to Tsarvik himself. Nonetheless, he didn't see him anywhere, so the question was partially rhetorical.

[Arundel]

The Semes that Arundel had brought along lifted their heads from the grass they grazed upon a few meters away and nickered. A twig snapped behind her, eliciting Nate's return. She turned her head and offered a smile, signing greetings and welcome. It was her hope that, like a child, he would pick up on Pavi and Grassland Sign if he heard and saw it enough. "Welcome back," she emphasized in Common. Hopefully this approach would work. The language barrier would need to be crossed if they would get anywhere. She accepted the responsibility of training him, though it wasn't by her choice. Bitterness and annoyance still lay curled in her belly like a drowsy rattler, but if she reminded herself that she would be doing this same thing with Aleixo, it was a little easier to accept, even if thinking about the missing Syliran set her teeth on edge.

To answer his question, she shook her head. The smile grew a little, and she watched him place tinder in the shallow hole she had dug. He'd retrieved a decent amount of deadfall, but she might go into the woods herself to get more just to be sure the fire stayed alive all night. "Still gone. Unsure when return." Arundel forked an eyebrow at him. "Pray not get eaten." Her teeth flashed in a quick grin before she leaned down on her hands and knees to inspect the tinder. The tree bark should take to the spark, but just to be sure she yanked a small handful of grass from where it grew outside the ring she had stripped. To make certain the blades were dry, she pulled only from the top and kept away from the roots near the soil.

They were then arranged on top of the bark, making a thinner second layer that might catch better and feed the heavier tinder underneath. The next step was a tedious one. She plucked up the flint and steel from beside her and held them close to the kindling. An experimental tap against the stone sent out a small spark, but nothing that would ever have the hope of starting a fire. Arundel lowered the flint closer, positioning it a few inches above the dry grass and angled down. The first strike yielded no results - only a small spray of sparks that stubbornly refused to catch. She angled the flint so that her second scratch sharply scraped the sharp steel along its edge. A wisp of smoke hinted at possible success, making her instantly drop the tools and lower her face to the tinder.

Arundel cupped her hands protectively around the kindling, blowing gently into its heart in an eager attempt to coax life into the infant blaze. The smoke thickened and billowed up from between her fingers, and after a few more careful puffs a wisp of fire took root where a moment ago the roughage glowed red. It burned quickly through the dry grass, and started eating more slowly at the bark. Quickly, she crawled over the pile of deadfall and began breaking twigs from the bigger branches, until she had two good handfuls. These were slowly arranged and fed into the weak fire until they took to the thin bits of wood. She continued blowing gently, giving it good air flow until all the twigs were piled in the middle of the pit and the fire had grown large enough to maintain itself. "Break branches for fire," she told Nate. "Small then big."

She wasn't a survivalist like those of the Emerald Clan, but building a fire was something she knew how to do - and she was proud of it. The smoke had lessened until it was almost nonexistent. Their lack of green fuel kept that to a minimum, and she wanted to make sure it stayed that way. Smoke was a beacon to many kinds of predators, human or otherwise. The more dead and dry wood they used the better. Luckily Nate seemed to have collected just that. "Will gather more later. Fuel through night." She looked at him where she squatted at the edge of the hole. "Woods good?" Arundel really didn't know much about his home, except that it was a forested area and Syliras was an immobile, stone city. Even the wilds there was a fortress. She wasn't sure she would like that at all. It was nice to be able to ride to the crest of a hill and see the expanse of land in all directions for miles upon miles.

She rose to her feet and moved to join him by their fuel pile. Picking up a long stick, about the length of her arm, and broke it across her knee with a dry snap, then tossed the two pieces into a new pile. The next was cracked into three pieces and added to the stack. "What do other than heal?" Arundel knew that Nate had an idea of how to doctor at least cuts. He'd demonstrated that skill on her a few days ago when she'd cut her finger. She needed to know what he was capable of, and what she should begin to teach him. It was already very clear that his skills on a horse were nonexistent, but luckily all he had to do was hang onto the yvas while she led him along. For the past four days that's how she had been carting across the Sea, following in Tsarvik's wake.

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

Nate truly didn't know what to do when Arundel was being nice to him. It was so much easier when they hated each other. Things were so much simpler. He would quip and be sarcastic, she would snap and be angry, and everything would have a nice, natural order to it. How dare she smile at him and upset that delicate balance?!

"Thanks..." he replied to her greetings. Oh that's just great. "Thanks"? Seriously?! What the petch... where was his sarcasm? He also noted that she signed something with her hands; probably the same thing that she said. The Grassland sign for hello, most likely. Except there were two signs that he saw. Which one was hello? Were they both hello? Or were the two of them together hello? He couldn't be sure.

She seemed to smile more at him when he asked about Tsarvik, and that just served to further confuse him. Would she stop doing that?! It was very distracting. Plus it made it hard for him to hold on to the hatred he so desperately needed. Nate didn't bother trying to think of why he needed said hatred, that was not relevant right now. Wait... what were they talking about again? Oh Yes. Tsarvik getting eaten. Nate was honestly surprised that Arundel would actually joke in that fashion. She didn't seem like the type; but perhaps that was simply because he didn't know her at all.

"Oh yes," Nate replied, completely deadpan. "Getting eaten would be... tragic." Somehow, he just couldn't muster his usual biting sarcasm. When Tsarvik was actually there he could muster it full-force but now, it just seemed pointless. Nate was never really one who found much value in talking about people when they weren't there to defend themselves.

Nate watched with interest as Arundel made their campfire. For some reason, he hadn't expected that she'd be so... skilled at this sort of thing. He rather expected her to be they typical kind of courier: get there, get back, stop along the way as little as possible. Which she possibly was, but that sort of attitude tended to lend itself to not really learning much in the way of surviving the wilds. Nate himself had some pretensions of having some ability, though most of his hard-earned knowledge was for surviving more wooded areas.

"Woods good?" Nate wasn't entirely sure the intent behind that question, so he answered as best he could. "The woods felt... familiar." Nate replied carefully. The unspoken but obvious implication: familiar, but not good. Familiarity came with it its own set of instincts. Old habits that died hard, like his habit of constantly looking up, scanning the canopy line for large cats that might drop in from above, or his habit of sniffing the air for urine trails that might imply marked territory. In the Syliran woods, danger lurked behind every trunk, in every branch and leaf. You could never afford even a moment's lapse in concentration, not if you wanted to live.

"What do other than heal?" Arundel wanted to know. Nate pursed his lips and looked into the forest after Tsarvik. What that vagik is doing, and probably petching up, he wanted to say, but he wasn't really interested in yet another acid-filled conversation about him. Regardless of his own intense dislike of the other man, in a survival situation you worked with whoever was around, because the animals of the wild truly did not care whether you were worst enemies or the best of friends, they would eat you all the same.

"Hunting, mostly," Nate replied. "Deer when I can, rabbits if I must. Any animal I can get. Not much money for a field medic, and I had two sisters to feed." And no one to help me, he didn't add. In truth he really didn't have to, but Nate was not exactly eager to discuss his family situation with outsiders.

[Arundel]

She hummed in a quiet agreement, breaking another dry branch across her knee and tossing the pieces into the pile. It was probably far different than what he was used to. Arundel herself couldn't imagine hunting through vast expanses of forest, with a thick canopy overhead and no miles of open ground all around. Surely it was hard ride horses through that kind of terrain. A part of her wanted to see this place that Nathan had grown up in, but she quickly squashed the idea. Don't get attached, she reminded herself. Do your duty, and be done with it. An idea did come to her though, and it would provide a welcome distraction - something to pass the time and benefit the two of them. She wanted to ask him more questions, but worried he would retreat back into his shell like a bothered tortoise. There would be opportunity later.

So instead of prodding deeper, curious about the relationship with his sisters, she changed the subject. "Would like ride? Practice need. I show better." It wasn't an order, but a simple invitation. Their gear was stored away inside the tent, waiting. She always made sure that the tack was always ready to be retrieved, just in case. It was never lumped with the backpacks, but sorted neatly by the opening in two separate piles - hers and his. The mare they had borrowed for him to ride was a pleasant Seme by the name of Rain. The twins had named her when they were younger because she'd been born in a rainstorm. Arundel didn't particularly like the name, but it wasn't her horse. It technically belonged to the twin's mother - her father's first wife. But everyone shared the Semes; it was just how things were done.

Arundel broke the last branch across her leg into the three pieces and completed the pile of their fuel. It was neatly stacked, and was actually more than she'd initially thought. Still, they would gather more later. It wouldn't last them the entirety of the night. She brushed bits of dirt and bark from her hands on the breeches she wore. Her traveling attire was men's clothing, but it was far more practical than the dress she had worn at home. Her lilac shirt was tucked neatly into the waist of her pants, and a purple sash was tied around her hips - another mark of her clan. She should have gotten another change of clothes before they'd left, but it was too late now. She would just have to keep these washed well during the trip. Tsarvik said they weren't more than few days ride from their destination.

"I will ride with," she continued, turning and crossing their camp to the tent they shared. She ducked inside the opening - half in and half out - and pulled their tack from inside. Arundel picked up hers, hanging the yvas and bags over each shoulder and clutching the pad in her hands. He could retrieve his. "You bad balance. Use handles too much. Not relaxed." She led him to the two Semes that grazed a few meters outside of camp. They raised they heads and whinnied soft greetings, walking over to intercept their riders with mouthfuls of grass. Curiosity was clear in their faces as they sniffed the tack. "Teach yvas, too. How put on. Ready watch?" Arundel smiled encouragingly. "Not hard," she assured him.

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

Truthfully, what Nate wanted to be doing was hunting. Even despite his intense dislike for Tsarvik he wanted the familiar feeling of trailing through a wooded area, the trunks of trees pressing in on all sides, the familiar sounds of birds in the branches and Syna peeking in though the canopy. The familiar scent of pine and bark, eyes open and always searching, ears open for the slightest sound of predator, prey, or water. It was something Nate sorely missed; the sights and sounds and smells of a true forest. And even though the lightly wooded area that he'd just been in was not nearly as thick as he was used to the nostalgic feeling was still there.

But the whole enterprise would be soured by the company he'd be keeping. He had no illusions how he'd be treated by Tsarvik if they went hunting together, despite the fact that any decent hunter ought to know that in the wilds - where everything was trying to kill you - either you got over your personal issues quickly or the both of you were dead men walking. Nature simply didn't care if you were the best of friends or the worst of enemies; it would do its utmost to kill you anyway. The only way to survive was cooperation, yet Nate had the distinct impression Tsarvik wouldn't, and get them both horribly, brutally massacred. So perhaps it was a good thing he didn't go out there with him.

So would he like to ride? No. He would like to be left alone. He would like to go home with his sisters, back to Syliras where they belonged. He would like a great deal of things but right now would he like to ride? No he would not, thank you very much, but he grudgingly conceded that Arundel was right; he did need the practice. On the way here, he had sat rather like an uncomfortable cloth doll, slipping this way and that and barely able to remain on the back of the horse, even though the pace wasn't very fast and Arundel was there to make sure he didn't fall off.

Tsarvik had made several snide comments about it too. Well, Nate assumed they were snide comments; he couldn't actually understand what was being said as it was spoken in Pavi with associated hand signs. But the tone of voice, the way his face sneered at Nate's poor riding, made it all too obvious what he was saying even if Nate couldn't understand either word or sign of it. The implication was clear; the man had absolutely no respect for Nate, and the feeling was mutual.

Nate just shrugged. "Sure. I guess I haven't got anything better to do," he replied finally. Despite his natural inclination toward sarcasm there really hadn't been much call for it. And while he was certainly willing to call upon it, at the moment he just didn't feel like utilizing that particular verbal tool. So instead he pushed forward, patting down his pants and following Arundel to the tents.

Nate did notice that Arundel was not wearing the dress he sometimes saw her wearing when she was in Endrykas, instead she wore clothes that were far more practical. He did not comment on it, but it was a relief to know that she valued practicality. There were those in Syliras who did not and they never failed to irritate Nate. She retrieved her tack, and while he got got his she mentioned that he had poor balance in the saddle. Apparently he used the handles too much, and wasn't very relaxed.

Clearly there had to be a better way to ride than that, but he wasn't too sure he wanted to learn from her of all people. Not that he exactly had a great deal of choice; and in the end he supposed it beat waiting around waiting for Tsarvik to come back and sneer at him some more. He sighed resignedly when Arundel indicated that she would teach him how to put the 'yvas' on the horse, assuring him that it wasn't hard. Maybe it wasn't hard for a Drykas...

"Well, I suppose it beats nearly falling off every few chimes," he replied in response to her question about whether he was ready to watch. He got the feeling though, as he watched Arundel's instructions, that it would be a lot harder than she thought it would be. If his father's lessons in hunting was any indication, anytime someone teaching you told you something was "not hard", it invariably was the most difficult thing you were going to learn.