Ferrin
Ferrins' glossy blue eyes shimmered ever so lightly with the warm blaze of the fire. His eyes twinkled in confusion as the Kelvick being walked straight out of the clearing. For what seemed like fifteen ticks. The Kelvick revealed another whole look.
Dark colored hair, slightly smothered by twigs and leaves. Dirty speckles encaced the face of the young man just ever so slightly. Clothes looked as if they were put on with a swift and rush like. Ferrin didn't really care about his clothing though, as long as he had something to put on.
"My name..." The Kelvicks' words trailed or maybe slurred ever so slightly, probably due to the lack of sleep. Or maybe the lack of hunger? Maybe Ferrin can offer him a meal at the Rearing Stallion or someplace that night be less crowded/lousy. "...Is Varsk. I am, as you may have guessed, a Kelvick."
One thing for sure Ferrin was glad that this Varsk had some sort of name to go by. And an interesting name as well. One that he had not have had heard previously. Ferrin might be a rare name to in the world of Mizahar, but it sure isn't a very commonly used one.
The man who spoke his name as the one called Varsk, looked eager enough to venture out of these woods. During the dark hours, there is a lot of commonly known dangers that can rome about and lurk around these mystifying so called Bronze Woods.
The Kelvick had his bare feet positioned towards the hearth of the fire. Strange, why doesn't he have shoes/boots? Ferrin thought. It's just bare feet, and nothing else. Does the man who calls himself Varsk fancy the cold like weather? Or does he not have any footwear to be seen with at all?
Ferrin gathered up his weapons and began to either belt or wrap them in the spots where they belong. His sword strapped to his waist quiver of arrows wrapped around his left shoulder. And his longbow clutched slightly ever so tightly on his longbow. Trying to get the right amount of 'feel' to the grasp.
"Well, I'm ready; If you are?" Ferrin asked the man who called himself Varsk. The thought of this Varsk: the thought of being friends or enemie(s) with this Varsk still pondered through his head. It's still to early to decide. Ferrin thought to himself. "Just give it time." The hunter thought.
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"Pavi" | "Common"
"Tukant"
"Tukant"
