Open [The Bronze Woods] Another Chance.

[Medhozic]

Stupid answer. "Don't try and contradict me. You cannot lecture me on what is human and what is not, when you are not one yourself." He was. She didn't need to know such things - all she needed to know was that he knew, remembered at least in part what it meant to be human. Though, during the nights that Syna fled the sky, he was not a human. He was just the husk of a husk - the weakness of a child of a God. And that it would remain. He wouldn't try and wake the memories that came from that body, what it had faced and what trouble it had gone through in the pursuit of happiness, only to have it swallowed by the gaping jaws of fate like every other fish in the sea... "I've met many." The conversation pulled him from the brink. He found himself approaching it more often than not with the more Kelvic's that seemed to make themselves known in the least likely of places. Like worms under rocks. "I wish I hadn't." For the sake of courtesy, he didn't include her name amongst those. "They were all ignorant. Some couldn't hunt, others couldn't think of anything else. Animalistic beasts with little humanity and more animals with opposable thumbs and given somewhat of a basic understanding of language." His little rant wasn't over - he was just taking another breath. "The only reason they haven't died yet is because of their animal halves." After all - a feral dog was a much better tracker than a human, a better runner.. but it was, in the end, just a feral dog. And feral dogs given human skins were still feral dogs. "I do not wish to know about my brothers and sisters." Such a thing was a sensitive spot for all Ethaefal.. to know of their brothers and sisters within the sky, reduced to these feeble mortal bodies. He prayed for them, as they all did for one-another. But they would not meet, would not speak above what was absolutely necessary. It eased the pain and the loneliness for the sky and their immortal bodies once again. "And I am no ghost. I am the son of a God; I lived more than one life, but many as different creatures in different bodies. Watching the Valterrian. All of it. When I did not experience it for myself, I saw from above, on all creation. Do not compare me to a mere mortal spirit lost and forgotten, crawling through the land without even a corporeal body to call its own." He was insulted, above all. How little she knew of the humans, and Ethaefal, and the rest. How she thought she could compare herself to the humans, even though she was right - appearance wasn't what made a human. But it certainly helped. Otherwise all of the Myrians who wanted to be humans wouldn't be utterly disdained as they strolled through Syliras. That wasn't true. Or the Ziths, for a better example. Didn't hear of many of them wanting to become humans and ever getting anything more than an arrow through the neck. Or a sword in the chest. Or an axe in the skull.. or some other form of weapon somewhere. Little mattered what or where, just as long as the point was made. Finally, they could put all of this talk behind them though before it became any worse. While taking up the piece and examining it closely, he answered absently, "The name I have taken for myself is Medhozic. Use it wisely." He wouldn't explain what he meant by that. He just sat there in the shadows, scrutinizing her little piece with both hands holding either side, deft fingers dancing over the little jutted angles and the dents that had been made. It resembled.. something. At least it was passable for a carved piece, even if it was a little crude around the edges, rough and hard-edged in a way that a storm would not be. Conceptual, that's what he believed they called it.. but he didn't give it back yet. "Not bad."

[Kizora DuLonite]

He was mad...she could tell. She'd made a mistake and she knew it. It wasn't meant as an insult as much as a question.

"I'm sorry. I offended you out of my own ignorance. My knowledge of Ethaefel is weak, I shouldn't even have spoke of it. I meant not to call you a ghost, but only to invoke the emotion so you would understand how I felt. It is a shame, as well, to think you've not met the better of our people."

There was a bit of hesitation before she continued.

"What I will not apologize for is my beliefs. I believe part of me is human, and not just my skin. If you believe you are human, and you feel as a human does, you human, or else posses the humanity of a human. I can understand if you disagree."

Facts mulled over in her mind led to her indecision. A part of her really didn't like him. He was rude, and somewhat conceited, and it really ticked her off. No matter what, or who he was, it made him no better than anyone else. Another part of her felt sorry. Only the saddest people grew cold like that. Only the ones who'd faced deep sadness. She tried to balance the two warring forces when she spoke.

"Thank you."

Her fingers gingerly reached up to the back of her neck, lifting the necklace over her head. She held out the wolf carving, a little entranced by its masterful workmanship herself. She kept her fingers tight around the little wood, though. This meant the world to her.

"This was my mother's work. Kelvic or not, I've never met a person with as much heart and humanity as her."

[Medhozic]

He wasn't looking at her anymore. He looked elsewhere to put his concentration into something more productive. Studying the little wooden carving in his hands, twisting it over and over until he had felt every inch of the little thing, every ridge and every dent - or looking out into the forest and the glare of Syna's light from between the thin branches that slashed it into thin beams cast over the whole forest. Slowly, her words began to fade from his ears, drowned out by other noises of the forest. A trait that had taken much concentration and practice to bring about. "I do not care," he found himself saying with much more truth in his words than intended. He didn't.. she'd made the same mistake that so many others had too. They thought them as lost, forgotten ghosts.. but ghosts didn't have the same to lose. Humans, Kelvics, none of them would ever understand the truth. They hadn't left their mortal plane. Known what it would be like, for just a day, to be immortal.. to not have to worry about finding enough food, or if someone was going to try and kill them, or any of the worries that all of the mortals spent their lives running about and trying to resolve. All he had was the faintest memory of such a time, more emotion than actual memory. But it was enough, compared to this place. It was a little fire in the cold, dark and empty forest. She was ranting about something else now. Slowly her voice faded back into the world and he turned languidly to stare at her with dark eyes. "Believe whatever you wish, then. But know that your beliefs are not equal to those around you. And you will face their judgement, all of it, long before they will face yours." A sad truth. He felt sorry for her - probably as much as she felt sorry for him. After all, it was one thing to have a different colour of skin, it was another to have horns. He was about as human in appearance as she was. "Books are judged by their covers long before any will open it up to look inside. It's quicker, easier, and generally, it's just better for everyone involved that matters." He didn't speak with determination. It was just a simple fact, like that water flows down in a waterfall, and he said it as so. "And if they don't like how you look, they'll see your bones long before they see your carvings." Something had corrupted their little conversation. His hand raised up to her with the little carving she called a storm in an offering. And although he also found the time to pay close attention to the little wolf, he didn't make any attempt to take it. He just sat there as the fire steadily grew, adding little roots where possible to feed the fire and increase the small glow. He found that he didn't want to spend any more time sitting about, talking about nothing in particular. He wanted to hunt, at the very least.. or just get something done. "What do you know about hunting animals. You are a raven, aren't you. So what do you hunt, what do you eat."

[Kizora DuLonite]

His words hurt her to her core. They carried such sadness, such lack of hope. Life was to be taken with a grain of salt, and the joy given more thought than the sadness. He was blunt, very blunt, almost unbearably so. There was an urge for her to point it out, until he spat out a monotone 'I don't care'. In a way, the words stung, but her pride buried the reaction. Her bad mood was sneaking back in, and she ran her hand through her hair again before taking back her carving.

Words fought against her tongue, caged through her minds decision. He was set in his ways, she could see it. No matter what he's seen, or who he is, it seemed unjustified with his attitude. His words ticked her off, 'You are a raven, aren't you?'. He had no respect for the emotions of others, and it completely infuriated her. She had decided, she didn't like him.

"When I need to hunt, I bury my things, take to the sky's, and scout the area. Usually, I pick a target and come back as human for the kill. I have also killed small birds when flying."

There was no effort to show her disdain. The headache was back, and it was bad. She cussed under her breathe when she realized why. The nightmares would be back tonight. It would be best if she didn't sleep, but then they would come the next night. She'd stayed in the mountains too long. Her breathing became slightly abnormal as her heart raced, and slowed.

Her hands wrapped around the hilt of her sword as she stepped behind Medhozic. The taste of iron permeated in her mouth. With wide, sharp arcs, she hacked into the dead wood, cutting up chunks of the wood. Her arms slammed up and down rhythmically, hoping to chase away her anger and pain.

[Medhozic]

The longer he thought and the longer he educated the girl in the ways of life from those that had lived and lost, the less he realized he cared for how much he cared for her. Sometimes even in his ways, he had to remember how insignificant ones opinion was in the grand scale of society. Just because one could have an idea would not mean, more often than not, that it would be a respected idea. And the same could be held for personal views. One person, amidst a hundred or a thousand, was a speck of dust and a single voice in a chorus. There would be those with louder voices, those with quieter tones, but in the end there was still the one voice. And the same was with her attitude - after all, she was just one voice amongst many. What she thought of him was of no concern; she was free, completely, to think up whatever she wished. And he was free to ignore it entirely. What wonders freedom could be. "Good. Then you can help me in retrieving some food." He either wasn't aware of how much he'd hurt and insulted the girl, or he was simply pushing it aside as if it didn't matter. She could be useful regardless of her opinions. "If you can scout ahead food, then I can reach it quickly and shoot it down with my bows. It will be faster than if you have to scout out for meals and then return to pick up your hunting equipment." It was problem-solving. He had a problem with finding meals, and she had a problem with having to go back and forth between finding and killing. If she found, he'd kill. He could carry her things. It'd all be done quickly, and effectively. Much would be done before Syna left the sky, and when that time did come, they'd all be back at the castle eating away at their well-earned meals. He didn't even imagine that she could say no to such a thing - it was thought-out, meant that neither of them would be put under more stress than the other. Fair - that's what everyone called it, didn't they? "I will carry your equipment and keep it safe. All you need to do is to show me where the food is, and I will kill it. Fires will be built, the meat will be sectioned off into pieces and cooked for proper storage in the bags. We will share the meals since they will have both been caught by us." And with that, he rose slowly and picked out the short-bow, quiver and the kopis still stuck firmly into the wood; stepping absently on the fire as he made his way on towards the path that they'd stepped away from. "Come."

[Kizora DuLonite]

Blood pounded past her ears, nearly drowning out his words as he spoke. Her temper flared again as she listened to the way he spoke. Her teeth bore into her lip, nearly tasting blood. She wasn't a victim to be ordered around or controlled. She definitely wasn't going to answer to 'Come'.

"Excuse me?"

Maybe, on a day when the nightmares weren't coming, when she didn't hear her mother screaming in the back of her head, when the pressure above her head wasn't as ferocious, she might have let it go. But not today, not after he'd been depressingly sour.

The sweat mingled with the cold, stinging her skin. Placing the sword down and pacing with long, stretching strides. He could be useful, as long as she didn't let on how much she needed his help. It had been at least a week she'd been wandering the forests, and hopes of encountering another traveler was slim.

"I'll help you if you can show me the way to Syliras. "

Her hands ripped through her hair as she paced again. She didn't want a deal with him, not now, not while her heart was racing. He was too much to deal with, another stress she couldn't quite deal with. But it would be a necessary evil.

"Can you agree to that?"

[Medhozic]

It might have been a complete disdain for her objections and her opinions; it could be that he hadn't even noticed them in the first place, and that if he had heard them anyway he still would have ignored them. Or it could have been that he took some odd, near perverse joy and satisfaction in driving others past the point of rage to gauge their reactions. Or it could have been none of the above - for whatever reason, he didn't turn his head back to her, didn't even slow down in his departure down the track. "I said come," he called after himself without the hint of the smugness that was being hidden deep down under the simple tones of his voice, "Are you having trouble hearing. Or do you not want to see Syliras at all." He didn't mind striking a deal - it was one-sided anyway. He lived in Syliras, it wasn't much of an issue to take her back since he was going to return to sell his meat and rest after a hard day of hunting and having to put up with the presence of yet another animal in human skin. And he could raise the stakes afterwards just to push it a little further. He could hunt without her - all he needed to know was where the animals were, and he'd have everything he needed from her. And even that wasn't worth much - he'd be the one hunting down the animal, the one putting the killing blow through it's neck, not to mention cutting it down into little chunks of dripping meat and cooking them over a little wooden fire. She didn't have to put up with it - although he doubted she would be able to, even if she wanted to. It might just have been insult to injury, but he began small-talk, still on the way. "By the way. Is carving the only thing you do, or do you have other skills that make you valuable to society." Personally, he thought he was getting the hang of this whole talking thing. It was fun - like a little game that he could play against others, although he was the only one who knew the rules. A constant battle that wasn't a battle, in a game that wasn't a game. Poetic, even.

[Kizora DuLonite]

Her teeth ground as she glared at the man. The pounding pain in her head nearly drowned out his words. He was conceited, but she was patient. If she'd learned anything from days like these, it was patience.

"Give me a moment and I'll change. When you see me turn the corner as a raven, go collect my things and follow."

She realized he was already walking away, but she wasn't about to undress right then and there. Not in front of a person like him. As she hid behind a particularly thick tree and began to undress, she caught a few of his words. Anything else useful to society? What else made her valuable to society?

"Well, I try to be decent to the people I meet. I find that a very useful skill set."

The cold stings her bare skin, only enhancing the shadows dancing in the corner of her eyes. She did her best to wrap all her clothes tightly, keeping her most valuables deep within the pile, including her necklace. On the top, she rested her sword. Before she changed, she wanted to make one thing clear.

"If anything goes missing, you will find a raven is more dangerous than you would first assume."

[Medhozic]

Just before he reached the path, he stopped and kept his back turned to her. Apparently, he was giving her some privacy. "Change already." Unlike her, he didn't have the considerable patience that so many just naturally assumed that he would have. Perhaps that was the reason he didn't have it in the first place. It wasn't rebellion, it was choosing not to live up to expectations - it wasn't like they wouldn't judge him anyway, even if he did act all calm and patience, always smiling because he was the child of the Goddess of Joy and Energy. It was the way the humans were - or to put it into a better perspective, it was the way mortals were. "Otherwise I will simply take your things now. I do not care for a women's body and I will not care for a ravens either." What would they have that he didn't? Or hadn't? If he had seen her moving behind a tree, after he'd already turned his back and given her room, he would have scoffed. As it was, he resigned himself to continue answering her questions, and to use the opportunity to probe with a few more. "Decent to those that you meet, even if they want to put a dagger in your back." That was his perspective - he'd be very friendly, affable and almost cheerful when he was sure that the other person wouldn't be ready at a moments notice to shove a long-sword up his spine. And he was never sure. Hence, he was never cheerful. "It's an old saying. An enemy stabs you in the back, and a friend stabs you in the front. I don't intend on being stabbed." He knew first-hand how uncomfortable it was. And then, as if all hadn't already been resolved and placed behind them with the new pact, she was accusing him of being nothing better than a thief. "And you have nothing that I want." He had everything he needed - a kopis for cutting down wood and animals, and a short-bow with enough arrows to bring back whatever might appear. A possibility in the future may be for more weapons, but for now, he had enough to survive and that was perfect. "As long as you find me something to sell on the meat market, I'll have everything. I am not so low as a common thief to steal. If I was, I would have stolen your life to take your sword." It was true; it was a remarkable sword, not one usually found in Syliras - at least by anything that he'd seen. No knight held it, and certainly no commoner or Kelvic. She was a lucky girl to have one.. and the thief would be luckier that took it while her eyes were closed. "Now stop wasting time. Syna is passing through the sky, as should you be."

[Kizora DuLonite]

"You know, I feel bad for you."

The words slipped from her mouth without her barely noticing. When they finally registered, she didn't regret them..

"I feel bad, that you can only see the pain. Life is a terrible, terrible thing. You suffer, you experience the worse kinds of pains and loss, and eventually you die. Probably violently. But if you can't enjoy it while its happening, you might as well string yourself up and do the deed yourself."

Her whole thought process was a dull throb. Things were going really dark. She'd felt this way a few times before. Feet swaying with the rhythm of the wind, her eyes shut as the world fast forwarded without her. Seconds, or at least she assumed it was seconds, later, after hitting her head roughly on the ground with a thump, she stumbled up and hugged herself. It took a moment for her to realize she'd passed out.

"I am not well, give me a moment to catch my bearings."

The words were not so much a plead, but a command. If she was truly this sick, she couldn't show it. Not now, not to this extent. The whole silly conversation they'd carried on buried itself under her new stress. She needed her strength, and she needed it now.