Closed You've Got Mail (Nate)

[Arundel]

513 AV, 88th Day of Fall

The sun was just rising when she and Nate finished breaking camp. With everything packed carefully on their horses, they mounted up and rode North along the banks of Lake Serifal. Her fear and uncertainty kept them at a slow clip, as if she didn't want to reach the encampment that lay somewhere ahead. Plants grew thick and wild along the shore of the immense lake, where the earth was rich and moist. Cattails, grass, watery weeds, and scraggly trees whose leaves had finally fallen off in the wake of winter. All the vegetation was starting to go dormant and dry out in preparation for the increasing cold. Arundel had her cloak pulled tight around her shoulders and the hood bunched up against her neck to offer some protection from the wind that blew off the chilly waters. When she looked out across the lake, there was nothing but an endless expanse of choppy gray-blue waves. It was impossible to see the other side.

Domero clambered up a steep slope that rose from the ground ahead of them, breaking into a brisk lope until she stopped him at the top. "Hang on handles!" she called back to Nathan. She wasn't sure he could stay seated on his mare at that pace and angle without them. To their left the ground fell away into the lake. A small cliff, no more than fifteen feet. Arundel urged her Strider further from the edge, tapping him with her left heel to make him sidestep to the right. Heights bothered her, even if falling into the lake wouldn't pose as life threatening.

She squirmed a little to readjust her seat behind the slope of Domero's withers, and turned to Nate once he was stopped beside her. Their horses tilted their noses toward each other, in some mysterious form of communication. Arundel ran her fingers nervously through the stallion's mane, unsure of how to start. She wanted to say something heart-felt to express her worries, but nothing would come out. Frustration made her look out ahead of them, down the slope in front of them and along the shore of Serifal. Reaching into the thick folds of her cloak, she fished out the crumpled and folded letter that had been delivered before their departure. It was stored in a small pocket sewn into the garment, convenient for such items like maps.

The horses' ears flicked at the sound of rustling paper, and she unfolded the document roughly. She'd already torn it a little once with her manhandling, but the paper wasn't ruined. It had been battered and abused throughout the trip here; being dropped in mud, water, blown away by the wind, and almost accidentally set fire to. The top of it was charred and flaked away. Luckily all they needed to read now was toward the bottom. In the letter her employer explained how to specifically get to the encampment once arriving at the lake. He'd drawn markers as well. Formations that would point their way. "Look," she said with her thick accent, handing the battered parchment over to her companion. "Bottom right. See tree?" Arundel leaned over across the small gap between their horses, touching the drawing of a crooked tree.

"Now look," she told him, pointing ahead of them. Far down the shoreline was the same tree. It grew at the edge of the water in a snarl of thick plantlife. "Says we close to camp now." They had arrived at the lake yesterday, and had been following the paper's directions since then. It was clear by the tone of her voice that she wasn't excited. Arundel looked at him again, unsmiling and with her eyebrows knitted together in a deep v. "What expect? Worried?" She ran her hands across her face and through her wavy hair, finally growing past her shoulders after this long season. "What if danger? What if you hurt? Never forgive me. Never forgive myself." Her fingers plucked their directions out of his hands, and she quickly folded it back up and stowed it away inside her cloak. She glared down at Domero's long mane, absently fondling a lock of his hair. "Should not have come. Me or you. Both stay home." Without thinking, she had included him in the sense that Endrykas was home - his and hers. It didn't occur to her to do otherwise.

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

Well at least Nate was kind of getting used to riding on horseback. Which was both a good and bad thing. Truthfully, he had no particular desire to learn this skill, it was a constant reminder of where exactly he was and how very little choice he had in his situation. On the other hand, running everywhere didn't seem like the best expenditure of his time or energy, given the broad expanses of the Sea stretched out for miles and miles. Riding, it seemed, was really the only option available if one wanted to get anywhere around here.

Nate recognized some of the plants that were growing in the lake beside them. Certainly the cattails were a familiar sight, though some of the other plants were utterly foreign. It was both comforting and distressing, and he turned to look about, trying to see if there was any danger he needed to be alert for. A water source often meant prey animals might come here to drink. And prey animals meant predator animals would not be far behind.

But the bitter cold wind that blew across the plains took Nate's attention away, and he noticed out the corner of his eye Arundel drawing her cloak around her. She was setting a rather sedentary pace considering the client's insistence on alacrity. He supposed she was either being careful, having second thoughts, or both. Probably both. A rather steep incline rose before them and she called back to him to grasp the handles on the Yvas.

Nate leaned forward a bit, trying to stabilize himself on the horse while doing as he'd been instructed. It was a little irritating, honestly, to have to do this. Back in Syliras it was not necessary to learn to ride. Sure, some people did; the Knights for example rode their magnificent war horses and looked very fine sitting atop them with their shiny armor.

But Nate himself, as a hunter, never found a need to learn. And now, apparently, it was to be drilled into him. He sighed, trying not to fall off the mare - again - while gripping tighter with his knees. He briefly wondered why the Drykas didn't put reins on their horses. Surely it would be easier?

Arundel had made her horse step away from the small dead drop that ended in the lake below off to their left. Nate saw the almost sharp edge, jagged like the teeth of some wicked serrated knife, and could understand her dislike of trotting right up against it. While Nate was actually something of a fan of certain sorts of heights - hiding up in a tree was one of the best ways to avoid getting eaten by a variety of non-climbing predators - he knew the inherent dangers of a cliffside when he saw them.

There was a moment's hesitation, during which Arundel seemed about to speak, then decided to look ahead of them. Nate wondered what she might be thinking of. He himself was thinking, more and more, that this seemed like an excellent setup for an ambush. The lake was to their left, cutting off an entire direction as an avenue of escape. The area was lightly wooded, and the approaching winter had robbed what trees there were of their foliage. But that only made them more obviously silhouetted against the sharp Fall sky. Not to mention, they were now very far from Endrykas. Far from anyone who could ride to their rescue, should anything go wrong.

Nate caught himself as he thought that. For a moment, he'd actually been in the mindset that the Drykas would ride to their rescue. Who was he kidding? They'd never ride to their rescue. They'd ride to her rescue. Him, they'd leave to rot. But Nate tried to purge those dark thoughts from his mind - at least for now - since Nate could not help but feel they were now in hostile territory. It was his hunter's instincts; honed from years of hunting the Syliran woods. There was no logical explanation for why, but he could feel the tension. And it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

For her part, Arundel drew out the map that had been given to her by the client. The crinkling of paper drew Nate's attention and he looked over. He remembered this map. It had been through almost as many 'adventures' as he and Arundel did this season. If one could really call them adventures. Misadventures, perhaps. Regardless, the parchment had seen better days. Still, it was at least legible, and she pointed out a landmark tree then pointed at a tree ahead of them.

Nate... well, he trusted Arundel to be right about that. If it had been him, they'd have gotten hopelessly lost, he was certain of it. It wasn't that he was stupid, or necessarily had a terrible memory. But he'd seen plenty of crooked, gnarled trees on the way here, and he trusted that she had a reason to believe this particular one was the one specified in the map.

She further voiced her concerns, her face and tone clearly conveying her hesitation despite her broken Common and thick accent. She ran a hand harshly through her hair, which seemed to have grown longer this last season. Nate did wonder why her hair was shorter than most Drykas. Was it just a fashion statement? Perhaps she just wanted to be 'different'? He was tempted to ask, but then thought better of it. They really were not at a level where either could really ask such questions of the other.

But it was Arundel's last words that caught his attention. Home. And he couldn't help it; a pang of homesickness washed over him. He didn't realize just how badly he missed the comforting stone walls of Syliras rising above him, sheltering him from not just the wilds but, it sometimes felt, from the world itself. He missed the hustle and bustle of its marketplace, the cosmopolitan populace going about its daily business. He even missed the woods, dangerous as they were. They had their own quiet, eerie beauty.

And he realized, he may never see those sights again. Never hear the gurgling of the streams echoing across mighty trunks. Never watch the banners of Syliras flap bravely above the parapets. Never come home after a long day's hunt to the smell of Lea's cooking, or the sound of Kat's singing. And he just wanted so badly for the nightmare to end, for everything to go back to the way it was... but it was not to be. The moment of weakness passed. And Arundel was still waiting for Nate to speak.

"Well, it's too late now," Nate replied, a bit more harshly then he really intended to. He found himself wincing at his own tone, despite himself.

It wasn't that he was necessarily angry at Arundel specifically. And she was right to be nervous, because this whole expedition felt like a giant mistake. And while he would argue with her later over the definition of home, one thing was for certain; he definitely wanted to just deliver the petching package and go. Something told him that staying around here might not be the healthiest decision for them to make.

"How much further until the meeting site?" He asked, a bit softer this time. Something told him that whatever had been bothering him, would be resolved in one way or another the next few bells. Sooner or later, they'd encounter the source of his unease. And if he had his way, he'd just as well it be sooner.

x