[Flasback] In the Middle of Nothing (Amondaris)

[Kilviria]

In the Middle of Nothing
Timestamp: 52nd of Spring, 510 AV

Within a few days, a week at least, the memory had faded into oblivion. The emotions, however, remained, and that was what confused the abandoned kelvic so much. There was nobody she could accompany, nobody she could support or let ride on her broad back during the hunt. Something was over.

Yet Kilviria longed for it to begin anew.

Much like animals, kelvics had only limited need for memories. The exact circumstances she had already forgotten, but the fact that her bondmate had ceased to exist was burning a hole into her little heart. It caused her to think a lot about relationships in general and her race specifically. Because she couldn’t deny her natural desire to serve a human, however, those musings were of no greater meaning for her psyche which confused her even more. What was she? Why was she so devastated when she should already be at the side of another human? Why was she trapped in that strange state, somewhere between “time heals all wounds” and the bitterness of a great loss? She should forget and move on. But perhaps it was still too early.

For the first time in her life Kilviria experienced the difference between her animal and her human side. The form of a human woman reminded her of distracting and dizzying emotions. Her skin remembered the touch of his hands, the warmth of his lips. When in animal form, she found it easier to forget and satisfy her animal needs.

This day she woke up with an empty stomach and decided to go hunting rather than fetch a few portions from the kitchens. She had to clear her mind in the fresh tundra air. Additionally, the dire polar bear wouldn’t be distracted by the memory so much. She’d do what she had done countless times before: sate her hunger and fill her stomach.

In the barracks, nudity was a common sight. The cubs often refused to be dressed by their mothers or riders because they wanted to shift whenever it pleased them. And like every kelvic, Kilviria had no problem with nudity whatsoever.

Making her way through the barracks to the main gates, she appeared like a ghost. A figure with pale skin and yellow-white locks flowing down her back, dark eyes fixed on the way leading her outside. At the gates she opened a small man-sized door and slipped through. The guards knew her.

A short while ago she had been among them, a kelvic with a rider.

As soon as she was standing in the snow, she shifted. Her body erupted in a flash of light, the sparks arranging themselves in a new order. Then a dire-sized polar bear – which meant flesh, fat and muscles more than 13 feet long – turned away from the Hold and made its way towards the vast tundra plains. Somewhere out there she’d undoubtedly find prey large enough to fill her stomach.

For a few chimes she covered the surroundings of Avanthal, tiny eyes focused on the ground and snout pointing into the air. If there was something out there, she’d first smell, then hear it.

Eventually the sweet scent of caribou reached her nose, and shortly after she came across the tracks. The herd had wandered past Avanthal and further east in search of moss and mushrooms. She followed the tracks and examined them further. Most of them were consistent and uniform. The size as well as the depth – indicating each animal’s weight – varied a bit, but every creature seemed healthy and able to outrun a polar bear. At the outskirts of the trail, however, she came across tracks that looked different. One hoof seemed to be lighter than the others, hinting at an illness or wound of the animal. That was what she had hoped to find!

Following the tracks further east, Kilviria licked her lips. The scent intensified with each step. Soon the herd came in sight at the horizon. Apparently they had found a fertile spot of land, as the majority was grazing now. Kilviria crouched into the snow and slowed down, trying to blend in with the snow. Of course, it was difficult to hide as large as she was, but she hoped that the caribou would mistake her for a rock or lump of snow so that she could get close enough to jump for the weakest.

Indeed, one exemplar was limping and a little isolated from the rest. Crawling as silently as possible, Kilviria approached the animal.

[Amondaris]

He exhaled, his breath made visible in the extreme cold of the tundra, rising in a pristine white plume. Tracking the ascension and eventual dispersal of the breath with his glacial blue eyes, he once again he wondered at the frigid beauty of this frozen paradise. He could not understand why anyone would choose to dwell in warmer climates, especially those people who lived in the desert. Madness, sheer and utter madness. Why live in a land where water is a scarcity, where the sun seeks to flay the skin from you, and where every corner turned could be met with death? The heat must have fried something in their minds. There was no other reason for it. Dismissing thoughts of warmer environs from his mind, he turned his gaze to the herd of caribou just visible from where he crouched, his white clothing helping him to blend into the snow. He'd been following the herd for a few bells now, content to keep his distance and observe, his keen eye noting a few choice candidates for him to tackle, when the opportunity arose. The easiest, therefore best, choice was a young female, in the prime of her health, save for a pronounced limp in her left foreleg, likely caused by some narrow escape from the jaws of certain death. Alas, with a such wounds, the initial luck of escaping a predator rarely held out for long. The weak and lame were ever the first choice of those with sharp teeth and sharp blades, alike. His hands, strapped in bands of pale fur and leather, as was the norm, disappeared inside the depthless folds of his cloak, promptly withdrawing a strip of cured meat. Seizing the tough flesh in his teeth, the hunter tore a chunk free, chewing mechanically and without relish. Such fare was never overly pleasant to dine upon. Lifting his free hand to his face, he absently rubbed at his cheek, the calloused pads of his fingers rasping against the harsh stubble as he contemplated his next move. He could continue holding back and wait until the lame caribou fell behind, and take his chance then, but there was no telling how long that would take. The herd was grazing now, doubtless having chanced upon some outcropping of vegetation on which to sate their hunger. Shrugging to himself mentally, he rose, shaking the frost from his cloak. Rolling his shoulders slowly in an attempt to relax the stiffening muscles, he ran the tip of his tongue along the back of his teeth, squinting at the herd thoughtfully. May as well get a little closer, he reasoned, so that if the weak member did fall behind, even temporarily, he wouldn't have to make a mad dash for it and ruin the element of surprise. Silent save for the soft crunch of the snow beneath his feet, the wraith-like figure made it's towards the herd, keeping his profile low so as to minimise the chances of being sighted. It was with some surprise that he registered the large, pale outline of what, from a fair distance away, appeared to be a rock, or perhaps a large build-up of snow. Both of which struck the young hunter as peculiar, in his mind. He was quite familiar with the surrounding terrain of his home city, and such a large rock would not have passed beneath his notice in all the years he'd been spending hunting out here. Nor had there been any significant snowstorm in the past few days, so the peculiar clump of snow had no logical explanation. He sank to his haunches, loosening the twin blades in their scabbards as he peered intently at the indistinct shape. Could be one of the Icewatch, but he hadn't caught sight of any soldier, or the tracks of one. A wild polar bear, then, or perhaps a rogue Kelvic? A slight frown wrinkled the pale, scarred skin of his brow as he contemplated the possibilities. It was possible it was one of the Icewatch's Kelvics, but he hadn't thought they liked to wander outside by themselves. Perhaps it's rider wanted it to improve it's hunting skills? He gave himself another mental shrug. Such idle speculation was a waste of time. There was one way to find out, and, chances were if it was a bear, Kelvic or not, it would have caught his scent by now. Resigning himself to possibly having to fight an animal that was many, many times his better in terms of size and strength, he crept forward until he was twenty or so feet from where the now identifiably furred object lay. Keeping his voice low, he hissed, "If you can understand me, that means you're a Kelvic, or a damned good mage. Don't kill me, and I won't have to kill you. Agreed?" If this turned out to be a wild bear, he would die a fool.

[Kilviria]

Kilviria took her time with approaching the animal, neither moving too quickly nor remaining at the same place. She tried to come as close as possible before waiting and letting the herd approach her in turn. Hunting needed careful planning. Plus, Kilviria wanted this particular hunt to be successful so she could fill her stomach soon.

Suddenly a surprising scent hit her nose, though. Sweat and fur. A human?

Next she caught sight of the white figure creeping towards where she was crouched in the snow. Did he intend to disturb her while hunting? If he had been there first, she would have caught his scent earlier. No, this was her prey and she wouldn’t let a human interfere with her hunt. Since he was a vantha, she knew that she wasn’t allowed to hurt him. She’d have a hard time keeping him from attacking the caribou without being noticed herself, though. What to do?

In the still air she could hear the hastily hissed words clearly. Not killing him, so that he didn’t kill her – was that a bargain? It was kind of amusing, had she been in a more relaxed situation. But now, in the middle of watching her prey, she could only agree to his request.

Despite that, she was still determined to make that limping caribou her next meal.

Figuring that he’d understand, she turned her gaze away from him and towards the animal once again. During the short interaction, she hadn’t moved an inch. If the human only kept quiet and still, it would certainly come closer, following the delicious snowless spots of moss.

In Avanthal Kilviria had experienced that the vantha were loyal and honorable when it came to relationships, so she expected this particular one to keep the promise. Thus her entire body focused on the prey. She was a predator, a beast made for hunting and killing. And she enjoyed it!

Slowly the caribou strayed away from its companions. The limping was obvious now; she could see the sore wound at the base of the left hind leg. If it came close enough, this was the spot she’d attempt to hit. It was all about speed. Being a polar bear, Kilviria was pretty sure that she’d be able to hold the caribou in place as soon as she got hold of it. She just had to find the right time to jump into motion.

The caribou came even nearer, visibly dragging the injured leg behind.

It was only ten or so feet away from the white polar bear lump now. Ten feet! Saliva concentrated in her mouth at the delicious scent of fresh, living meat. She waited until it looked away to catch a piece of moss at the side away from Kilviria. There was it! The chance!

Every muscle tensed when she hurled her massive body forward. The thrill rushed through her veins and fastened her movement. With two powerful strides she reached the caribou that was only just attempting to flee. She buried her sharp claws in its left flank, causing it to cry out in pain.

That, of course, alarmed the rest of the herd, but the polar bear didn’t really care. She had what she wanted.

Holding the caribou in place that was now fidgeting in deadly fear, she leaned forward and sank her teeth into its neck. Blood had already stained her claws and blood now trickled down her fur, steaming hot and of that sweet metallic taste. She felt the power in her jaw as she forcefully intensified the pressure. With a loud creak the neck bone broke. The caribou slowly stopped moving.

Satisfied with the outcome, she set the corpse down and started feeding its skin. She had managed to create quite the blood bath, although she didn’t care as long as she could fill her stomach. And that she did. However, she kept a watchful eye on the human in case he attempted to snatch the meal from her.

[Amondaris]

Astoundingly, he was still alive. His usual ill luck when it came to encountering predators in the wild chose not to hold true, something he was infinitely thankful for. While he was decent with his blades, he didn't particularly fancy his chances against an angry Talderian polar bear, Kelvic or not. Oh, he imagined he'd wound the beast, sufficiently to leave a lasting mark to remember him by, but he wasn't overly fond of the idea of his death functioning solely to remind a polar bear that being stabbed hurt a little. The mere fact that the bear had decided not to kill him, coupled with the glimmer of intelligence in it's beady black eyes, led him to summarise that it had to be a Kelvic, probably of the Icewatch. It's rider was likely still in bed. While he'd spent a great deal of time tracking the herd and observing the caribou, he could stomach the wasted time if it meant the bear wouldn't try to eat him. Small price to pay, after all. He'd heard stories of what the Icewatch's rightly feared Kelvics could do to a man. None of them were pleasant. As the bear's head turned to rest her fell gaze upon her intended prey, which, thankfully, was not him, he settled down, flattening himself against the snow as best he could without alerting the caribou. With luck, he'd appear as little more than a peculiarly shaped lump of snow. Suitably comfortable, he lifted his gaze to watch the show that was doubtless soon to unfold. It wasn't every day one got to witness a bear tearing it's prey apart from the front row, after all. He waited alongside his enormous companion with equable patience, content to allow the wounded caribou to meander it's way closer to them. The doomed animal eventually came within ten or so feet of where they lay in wait, and it's fate was sealed. With appalling speed for an animal of it's size, the bear exploded forth from where it lay, appearing as little more than a gargantuan white blur. The caribou didn't stand a chance. With almost casual ease, the great white predator tore into it's prey, the rest of the herd well on it's way to anywhere that this fearsome hunter wasn't. Pushing himself to his knees, Amondaris curled his legs beneath him, unmindful of the biting cold, by the grace of the Gnosis mark upon his shoulder. Sliding the left grosse messer from it's sheathe, he reached into the dark folds of his cloak once again, this time pulling a small whetstone from the unknowable depths. With the practiced movement of a habit long instilled in a man, he quietly began to draw the whetstone along the edge of the blade with long, even strokes, the stone rasping harshly against the metal. Glancing at the bear out of the corner of his eye, Amondaris offered an attempt at idle conversation, his voice rough and hoarse from misuse. "So. It has not escaped my attention that I am still alive and whole, despite having disturbed a Talderian bear in the midst of a hunt. Is it safe to assume you're a Kelvic?" Seeing as the bear was entrenched in it's meal, he continued, his lips twitching up at the corners in the faintest hint of a smile. "Going to assume your bondmate's still in bed. What's he or she like, then? You could tell me their name, I might know them. S'entirely possible that I'm related to them, knowing this place and how everyone's someone's cousin or such."

[Kilviria]

The sudden metallic noise caused the bear to raise her head. Of course, she had heard it elsewhere, countless times in fact, but when realizing that the vantha merely sharpened his weapon, she calmed down and went back to feeding. Her sharp teeth tore the caribou’s flesh apart. She only swallowed the most delicious parts: flanks, breast, inner organs and the steaming heart, of course. Her paws destroyed the fragile ribcage easily.

Then the vantha spoke, and once again Kilviria shot him a watchful glance.

So, assuming she was an Icewatch kelvic, he displayed interest in her. Was that good or bad? Anyway, she had neither the will nor the means to answer right now, since she used her mouth to feed and shifting would mean that she couldn’t do that anymore. Perhaps he was just interested joining the Icewatch through a relative or acquaintance. It didn’t occur to her that someone might not discuss such topics out in the wilderness. Here was as good a place to talk business than any other, if that was what he wished.

Whatever the human might continue to say, Kilviria let him talk and sharpen his strangely shaped sword. She fed until her extensive stomach couldn’t take any more caribou meat and then rose from the cadaver, muzzle stained with dried blood. Looking over to the human, she wondered if he really just sought companionship out here or something else.

Anyway, first she shifted, willing her body to dissolve into a blinding flash of light. A second later a well-toned, naked woman stood in front of the young vantha. Her yellow-white locks cascaded down half of her back and dark eyes curiously watched him. Her features were soft, albeit not child-like. Remembering that humans tended to weird behavior when confronted with nudity, Kilviria brushed thick strands of hair over her shoulders to at least cover her breasts. The frosty blue snowflake, Morwen’s mark, was located exactly between her collarbones.

Then she smiled and took a few steps in his direction. The area around her mouth and even her human teeth were still bloodstained. “My bondmate was Ansel. I believe he belonged to the Iceglaze Hold until he joined the Icewatch. He died a few days ago on patrol.”

It sounded a bit off, the way she spoke of her deceased bondmate, but kelvics forgot quickly if the memory wasn’t of use for their own survival. In a few seasons she wouldn’t feel anything about Ansel’s death anymore – she was so confused because she somehow sensed that.

Now she focused entirely on her opponent, though. “I’m Kilviria, by the way. What’s your name and what do you do for a living? I can’t remember seeing you around the barracks.” Of course, she lived in the Hold where the palace was located.

As a result she knew less of Avanthal’s population than the most vantha. How should she if she had a bondmate, anyway? Now it was important to get to know other people and look for potential new bondmates, though. She knew that. And her subconscious already scanned this particular vantha as a potential candidate.

[Amondaris]

Patiently, the half-blood Vantha continued honing the edge of his blade, moving the stone in slow, fluid strokes. Evidently not overly concerned with the gory feast the Kelvic was tearing into, or the manner in which she did so, he held the blade up to the light, squinting at the edge as he turned it this way and that. He tested the sharpness of the blade with his thumb, which came away with a small, clean cut, the blood beading upon the calloused surface presenting a vivid contrast to the pale tones of his skin. Without comment, he sheathed the sword with a peculiar reverence, a ghost of a smile softening the hard planes of his face. Arching an eyebrow at the dazzling display of light as she shifted form, his expression mild, Amondaris politely averted his gaze to stare out over the icy wastes, glimpsing pale hair and the fair face that it framed before he turned away. Unfazed by her nudity, the unflappable hunter merely drew his other grosse messer, the sword sliding out of it's sheathe with a faint whisper, lifting the blade up to peer critically down the length of the grey metal. The dark, curved blade was as perfectly honed and cared for as it's twin, the edge so perilously sharp that attempting to improve upon how keen the finely crafted sword already was would be a complete and utter waste of time. He did it anyway. Habit was hard to break. Running the tip of his tongue along the top row of his teeth, he once more began to draw the small, rough stone along the curved edge of the dully gleaming sword, the vaguely spherical rock gliding down the smooth metal with peculiar grace. His leathers creaking softly with the repetitive motion, Amondaris listened to the Kelvic as she spoke briefly of the fate of her bondmate, silently wondering at the ease with which she mentioned his death. Weren't Kelvics supposed to become extremely attached to their bondmates? Surely one would be absolutely devastated by the loss of someone so close to them, especially when the loss was so recent? He gave himself a mental shrug, dismissing it from his mind. If she had a reason to lie to him about it, he would let her do so without prying. Little point in aggravating someone simply because you think they're not being entirely honest, in his book. He canted his head to the right slightly, allowing his gaze to wander over the nearby walls of the city he called home. Kilviria. Interesting name, but not one he was familiar with, nor was that of her rider. Unsurprising, perhaps, given Amondaris' somewhat reclusive lifestyle. The man spent the majority of his time either in the wilds or alone, training with his chosen weapons. The blunt manner with which she asked his name and his occupation brought a slight smile to his lips, a flicker of gold creeping into the icy blue of his eyes. Not one to beat about the bush, then, this Kilviria. A trait he admired. Lifting his fur-draped shoulders in a slow shrug, the pale cloak rustling softly with the slight movement. "My name is Amondaris." The stone rasped it's hoarse whisper against the dark grey of the hunter's sword in a steady, continuous monotone as he spoke, an echo of sorts to the rough baritone with which the man spoke. "I suppose my trade is that of a hunter. I'm decent at it, but I don't make a fortune. I hunt moreso to improve my skill, and for the peace it brings, than for coin." He shifted his gaze from the icestone walls of Avanthal, lifting it to study the clouds high above them, a distant look to the steely grey, determined orbs, a stubborn set to his jaw. "I've been training and preparing all my life to become a mercenary, however. I have everything I need now, save for a horse, which is a simple matter of visiting the stables. I will leave as soon as I think I'm ready, and, Morwen willing, I get hired." Once more his shoulders rose in an indifferent shrug, his features almost completely hidden from view by grace of the furred hood that covered his head. "I'm a patient man. If a job doesn't come at first, I'll wait." Finally, blessed silence filled the air as he ceased the seemingly endless motion of sharpening his already keen sword, pocketing the worn stone within the folds of his cloak and setting his blade horizontally across his lap. Studying the blade intently, he lifted a fur-strapped hand and rolled the wrist in a languid gesture directed at Kilviria, asking, "And you? What will you do now that your bondmate has fallen? Do you bond to another, perhaps?"

[Kilviria]

Kilviria regarded the weapons with an admiring sparkle in her dark eyes. She had often watched Ansel sharpening his spear and harpoon, but these weapons were different. Longer. Swords, she remembered, although she had never seen a sword with that particular shape. Coming closer, she kneeled down in front of the vantha, albeit about five feet away.

Amondaris. She, too, didn’t remember the name. Both of them seemed to lead quite reclusive lifestyles, she because a bondmate was all she needed and he because of his personality and chosen profession.

Leaning forward with curiosity, she replied: “When I’m off duty, I only hunt for pleasure. It’s good to improve my skill either, but I like hunting. It’s my nature, I guess.” There she shrugged, well aware that she had stated the obvious. “I like that you’re a hunter though. It’s a respectable profession and you’ll never be hungry if you’re out on your own.”

Then her attention shifted. A mercenary? It took her a while to dig up the explanation to that unusual word. Avanthal was an almost self-sufficient community. Such things as mercenaries weren’t of use, since everything combat-oriented was either dealed with by the Icewatch or solved on an individual basis. Kilviria knew, though, that there were mercenaries outside Avanthal, in southern Taldera maybe. It was as good a job as any other for her.

However, there was something about this man she couldn’t fully grasp. He smelled of hardship and strength. She tilted her head at that, considering. “Why do you want to leave Avanthal? A hunter and fighter could live here too. You don’t have to become a mercenary for that. I’d feel bad if I had to leave my home, abandon my culture and my friends. The roots would suddenly be gone. Do you think you can live with that?” She was merely being curious. Despite her nature that allowed her to bond to a single person in the strongest way possible, she still liked the environment she had grown up in. Never before had she left Taldera. She had been told that it’d be hard to survive for someone like her outside either, but that wasn’t what she meant.

When Amondaris changed the topic, she grew silent for a while. Perhaps her bondmate’s death did bother her more than usual, after all. He had been there all her life long – and from one second to the next he was gone. His voice, his scent, his touch. Perhaps she did miss it, although she shouldn’t. Kelvic nature against humanity.

“Yes, I will have to bond anew. The Icewatch only consists of pairs, after all. The higher ups have given me some time though”, she sighed, “so I can tidy up the mess inside my head and my feelings. Everything’s so hazy.” A hesitant smile crossed her features. “I know that I shouldn’t be bothered by his death, really, but I just can’t stop thinking. What if something like that happens again? Will I become a useless kelvic? I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to form a new bond. At least it feels like I never could anymore.”

A stream of consciousness flowed out of her mouth, all the concern she had experienced in the last few days. No matter how Amondaris would react, she already felt better. Perhaps talking helped with things like that.

“How could I forget him?” she whispered to herself.

Then, as if she had forgotten something, the naked girl rose in one fluid motion. Her eyes widened. “Oh, I’ll have to get some clothing and bring that caribou back. Would you carry it with me?” Her human form would most likely not be strong enough to carry the massive cadaver alone.

Although she had gotten the most delicious parts, there was still plenty of meat and bone and fur left that could be utilized by craftsmen. Nothing was ever wasted – the motto of the vantha. Hopefully Amondaris would help her so they could continue talking while returning to the city.

[Amondaris]

He sensed, more than saw her approach, kneeling close enough that she could see his weaponry with greater clarity, yet not close enough to make him uncomfortable. For all the man that he was, Amondaris shared many traits with the animals he so loved, wariness being one of the most prominent. One didn't survive in the harsh wilds of Taldera by acting like some civilised noble. No, it was more fitting and advantageous to act the civilised beast, if anything. The sudden and rather vivid image of a polar bear dressed in a nobleman's finery and wearing a monocle shoved it's way to the forefront of his thoughts. Quashing the daft image whilst managing to suppress the beginnings of a smile, he gestured around him at the surrounding icy expanse, his voice taking on a dry, sardonic note. "Hunting serves many purposes for many different people, I expect. The pompous man who thinks highly of himself hunts what he views as lesser animals to boost his ego. The humble father hunts to feed and clothe his family. Yet another with aspirations of great wealth hunts to fed the voracious appetite of his purse. A respectable profession, yes, but one filled with less than respectable people." As she spoke, he listened politely, his head canted to one side as his gaze lay fixed to the dark metal of his cherished blade. Upon the mention of roots and ties to Avanthal, a thin smile that held all the warmth of the surrounding wastes curved his lips. "Why do I want to leave, hm? My reasons are simple, in the greater scheme of things. My mother and sisters are very capable of looking after themselves. Strong women, every one of them. I have no true friends to speak of. A few acquaintances, yes, but we are no longer close. I have often been accused as being as cold and aloof as the land we live in." Gently, he rested his fingers upon the frigid metal propped up on his legs, the pale fur that covered his leather-strapped hands presenting a stark contrast to the dark lustre of the blade. "I have nothing to keep me here, Kilviria. The Icewatch has no shortage of members, and there are more than enough hunters to keep the people fed, and the city prosperous. I owe a great deal to a man whom I admired greatly. I seek to venerate him, and my father, by taking up their profession and forging for myself a reputation that would do them proud. I do not care for the coin. I will likely only keep what I need and give the rest away. Such is immaterial to my goal." The pale spectre spoke without relish, merely speaking as if his goals were a necessary duty, not some glorious attempt to garner fame. He was aware few would understand the path he had set for himself. He had no interest in glory or riches, or any of the luxuries that came with them. He sought skill and honour, purpose. One could easily imagine such a man wasting away in a soft life, pampered and spoiled by the riches he had accrued. No, for a hard man that gave little in the way of comfort or warmth, a life of harshness to match him was the only one to keep him content. When she spoke of her loss, he listened with the usual attentiveness, a faint frown blossoming upon his forehead, deepening in intensity as she expressed her fears, of being useless. He lifted his gaze from the dark, steely grey of his grosse messer and regarded her with eyes of a matching hue, his voice possessing a steely quality to it as he spoke. "You shouldn't be bothered by his death? If you were not bothered by his death, Kilviria, it would make you heartless, disloyal. Worthless. There is no value in one who would not mourn the loss of one so dear." He tapped the calloused pads of his fingers against the unyielding metal of his sword, lifting his other hand to gesture at the Kelvic sharply. "Mourn. Mourn him well, and long. Weep until you cannot summon the tears to grieve him. Remember him, and honour his memory. Never forget all that he gave you, and all that he was. If you do so, you dishonour yourself." Lowering his hand, he folded it atop it's mate, regarding the woman opposite him flatly. "I knew a man, once. He had no ties of blood to bind him to me, no obligation. Yet he and I shared a bond that anyone would be lucky to have. He was not my father, yet he was. He helped me, helped me become strong enough to protect my family, to stop the misery inflicted upon them. He took a weak, sniveling boy, and forged him into something capable of protecting that which he cared about. He was kind, prone to laugh and quick to smile. He would stop and help a stranger, and worsen his own fate to better that of another. He was a better man than I could ever aspire to be." His expression softened, the steel in his eyes tinged with a deep, sorrowful blue. "I watched him die. Such a thing..It breaks a man. I felt useless. I was too weak to help him, I thought. Now I know better." The heavy fur cloak rustled as he lifted his broad shoulders in a faint shrug. "In short, Kilviria, you are right to grieve. The only thing you can do is soldier on and stand unbowed. Grow stronger and wiser so that when you do find someone you can bond with, that you can protect them. Help them grow stronger so that they can shield your back, in turn. If you can do that, no matter how harsh the trials life throws at you, you can be happy." Inclining his head slowly, he lifted his hand to touch his breast, tapping where his heart beat within his chest. "Do not forget him, Kilviria. Remember him, honour his memory, and he will dwell forever in your heart." As she rose, so too did he, with a grace that belied his rough demeanour, and moved to stand in front of the woman, unclasping the ties that fastened his cloak. Removing the pristine white item without ceremony, the long dark locks of his hair falling free to dangle across his scarred face, he held the garment out to her, features expressionless. [/color] "Take this in the mean time. We will share the weight of the carcass, to save either of us from growing weary on the trip. It is unlikely any predator will be foolish enough to attack us, but should it do so, the cloak will not inhibit your ability to change. Grasp the beast by the forelegs, I will carry it by the hind legs."

[Kilviria]

“I get the feeling you’re respectable enough to fill your profession with the meaning it was supposed to have”, she concluded thoughtfully.

So he sought to truly embrace the life of a mercenary, both on the skill and on the honor side. Although she was everything but a good people judge, especially after a conversation as short as theirs, Kilviria was quite sure that Amondaris was an honorable man. Not talkative and not social, but of a quiet strength any kelvic would like to shield their back. She was tempted to respect him, after a mere few minutes.

“An honorable goal”, she commented and nodded approvingly. “I wish my bondmate would have such a beautiful dream. I’d immediately support something like it.”

Perhaps it was because Ansel had been similar, with the only difference that he had been searching for the purpose his whole life long. He had only stayed with the Icewatch because Kilviria was there, but deep down he had always been looking for something better.

Memories of her now dead bondmate flooded her mind.

Her face warmed, her cheeks possibly flared pink just now when she lowered her head to hide her feelings behind strands of messy, white hair. His words reached her out of nowhere. They reached her heart despite the fact that she had silently said all those things to herself before. It was good to hear her own thoughts confirmed, to learn that she had been right.

It felt even better to believe in something she hadn’t made up herself. As a kelvic, and even as a human, Kilviria greatly relied on those around her. She needed companionship, support, advice all the time. Of course, friends could never fill the hole a bondmate left.

But at least friends were better than nothing.

“You’re right”, she whispered, voice nearly breaking. Then one, two crystal-like tears trailed down her cheeks. Only two. Morwen knew that she had spent more than enough tears already. It seemed that she had no liquid left.

However, next she rose, determined to remember Ansel. Forever.

Irritated, she felt the fabric on her skin, radiating the vantha’s body warmth. Two hands escaped the white embrace only to wrap the cloak tighter over her form. “Thank you”, she said honestly. She didn’t need the warmth, and just because of that it was even nicer of him to offer his cloak. Of course, he didn’t need it either which kept her from worrying.

Following instructions was one of the few things she was good at. So she obediently walked to the animal’s front and grabbed it by the forelegs. Watching as Amondaris took the hind ones – and got the bigger amount of blood –, she lifted the weight when he did, found a comfortable way of carrying it and started walking. The hem of the cloak touched the ground, and she had to watch out to prevent her feet from tripping over it.

Kilviria was definitely stronger than she looked like. After the initial difficulties she had no problem with carrying half of the caribou’s weight and continuing the talk. “Can we be friends?” she asked innocently.

For the time being sadness in her heart forbid a smile, but her sympathy was evident. “I mean, I know you’ll leave soon, but maybe my future bondmate will choose to travel as well and we will meet again. Besides, I think you should at least have one friend in Avanthal. Having friends helps a lot in many different situations.”

She caught her breath and looked back at the vantha to see whether he had difficulties with the hind legs, but also whether he agreed.

[Cheshire]

. Character: Kilviria Experience: Philosophy +2, Hunting +1, Tracking +1, Interrogation +1, Observation +1 Lore: The Difference Between Your Forms, The Hunter's Instinct, Remembering the Fallen Character: Amondaris Experience: Tracking +1, Interrogation +1, Philosophy +1, Observation +1 Lore: Taking Grave Chances, Sharpening Blades, Defending Your Goals Additional Note: I loved this thread! I awarded XP and lores to both of you hoping that it would lure Kili back to us. Kili, if you come back and want to continue with this thread feel free. I really would have liked to see the friendship that would have bloomed between Kilivira and Amondaris. PM me if you have concerns.