• PM To Join • Into the Woods (Ti'niva)

[Rose Greenwood]

30th of Zi’da Arc 717 - Evening

The soft evening shadows of the Makubwa Lori cascaded over the young physician as she knelt down to pluck a few sprigs of Meadowsweet from the scraggly green plant. Its notable fuzzy white flowers were nowhere to be seen this time of year, but Rose knew to look for the plant’s dagger shaped minty smelling leaves. She took care not to completely strip the plant, taking only a third of the foliage which she stored in the simple cloth bag hanging from her shoulder. Her short bow and quiver were securely affixed to her back; it was a comfort to know she was armed even if she did not know much about handling the weapon. The most she had done with a bow was occasionally hunting squirrels during her childhood on the isle of Strosdyn.

It was getting dark, but Rose could hear the gentle murmur of a stream nearby and she needed to refill her waterskin, not to mention there were a plethora of herbs that she might find near water. With purpose she strode forward, lifting her pale green skirt just enough to avoid a patch of brambles that might have caught on her dress. As she walked, carefully picking her way across the forest floor, the redheaded doctor was beginning to hear the sounds of nighttime creatures emerging into the darkening light. The chirping of frogs and crickets were a pleasant melody, but in the back of her mind Rose began to worry about what other creatures might lurk in the dark of the Makubwa Lori.

The trickle of water she had heard in the distance had grown into to an energetic cascade. The stream was nearly seven paces wide, and presumably just deep enough to come up to her knees. Small shallow waterfalls cast shining silver rivulets of water downstream, it was rather beautiful. For a moment she was terribly glad she had made the decision to come to her mother’s homeland. This world was still alien to her, but it was beautiful in a way that Strosdyn could never be. Soft misty beams of light from the sunset dove in gentle lines through the trees, contrasting exquisitely with the deep green shadows that resided in the gloom of the forest floor.

Rose knelt at the edge of the stream and began filling her waterskin with the crystal clear water. She was shocked at the cold of the water, but it was invigorating in a way. It was as she finished filling the container that she caught sight of green foliage growing in the edges of the stream. It was watercress, one of the most valuable herbs in existence. Not because it was rare; it was quite common near bodies of fresh water, but it was terribly useful. It could aid in curing colds, coughs or sore throats when taken in a tonic, but it was just as valuable as a poultice; warding off infection and speeding up healing. No doctor would ever turn away watercress; even in northern medicine it was invaluable.

Excitedly she cast off her bag and removed her bow and quiver from her back so she could have a better chance of avoiding a fall into the icy stream. Ignoring the cold Rose began pulling clumps of the plant from the water and haphazardly stuffing them in her bag. In her enthusiasm the young doctor had ignored the growing dark of the forest, now only a dim twilight remained to guide her home.

Rose suddenly yelped as her booted foot slipped into the frigid waters, splashing her dress and denying her a chance to harvest more of the plants. Shivering she hauled her leg from the stream and wrapped her green wool coat tightly around her body, taking in the darkness around her. She had dallied for too long, and it was a long walk back to the city. The doctor suddenly felt terribly alone as a nameless creature bellowed in the distance.

[Ti'niva]

The young Sev'ryn's hunt was going well, he had already shot too rabbits which hung from his backpack now as he continued to track the deer. It was unfortunate for him that the sun was beginning to set though, leaving him walking through a twilight which was not well suited for hunting. Seeing the tracks became increasingly difficult and finally he decided to call it a day, already it was beginning to get colder and the forest would become gradually similar looking. He was, however, much too used to the place and from many arcs of exploration he always found his way home. So he began to walk, planning to stop by a stream he knew of to refill his water skin.

This walk was an easy one, the path was well trodden by himself and other hunters so much of the ground was even and without any uncomfortable thorned plants. In the day he would normally avoid such routes, knowing better than to take the same path on many an occasion. The damage to the plants was often hard to reverse. Now though it was better to not get lost in the wilderness than use a less taken route. So he followed the hunting trail, humming softly as he went. Àine prowled alongside him, his familiar humming along with him in his head as they went.

Suddenly the calm of the forest was broken by a yelp and a splash in the nearing stream up ahead. Ti'niva frowned briefly before starting to run, pulling his stunning longbow from his back. Fingers glided over the carvings and lettering until they reached one end where he took the string and pulled it, attaching it to the other end as he ran. Coming up to the point where he had heard the sound his hand finally fell into place on the grip as his shoe less feet came to a halt on the forest floor. To his surprise there was no monster just a women, alone and shivering in the cold.

"Onitẹsiwaju?" He defaulted to Xanthean but looking her over he second guessed the choice. "Hello, you okay?" He allowed his bow to hang down by his side, the polished black wood managing to reflect any light that made it through the canopy above them. His accent was thick as he approached the red haired woman, surprised to find her there. "I help?" He gestured to her and stepped forward, taking off his own pack and pulling out a blanket. He held it towards her and nodded, smiling reassuringly as he waited for her to take it from him.

She is very beautiful. His panther familiar's words whispered through his head as he glared at her a little, possibly an odd thing to watch.
"My name, Ti'niva. You be?" The hunter unstrung his bow as he stood before her, hanging the weapon back onto his pack as he looked around him. She was definitely far from Desnind town, it was an odd time to be so far out especially as someone not of Desnind as he assumed her to be.

[Rose Greenwood]

Rose put on a brave face when she heard the faint muffled footsteps approaching the stream. It was terribly dark and in the gloom of the endless forest she made out the faint silhouette of the young Sev’ryn. He wielded the imposing visage of a seasoned hunter; she had met other hunters before in the Olọravu Slosneppe, but they had often been wounded and confined to a bed. It was certainly a very different effect when you met one in their element. The strange hunter was rather intimating in the dark of the forest, with a beautifully carved bow in hand an air unshakable confidence; as though he knew ever inch of the woodland that that Rose had been stumbling through. It was curious that she had never seen this particular Sev’ryn in passing before, but it was known that some hunters shied away from the larger settlements like Desnind.

Rose’s mother had been a hunter as well; how strange that her mother may have had more in common with this man than with her own daughter. Perhaps she would never know, finding her mother had proven more difficult than she had guessed. The doctor discarded this wisp of a thought when the Sev’ryn spoke, abruptly shaking her out of her daze.

“Onitẹsiwaju” she said in response, her voice shuddering more than she wanted it to. Her accent was certainly not native and left her lacking the natural rhythms of Xanthea. When he spoke in Common Rose smiled in appreciation. She loathed always being the one that sounded like they had the vocabulary of a twelve arc old.

“Took a tumble I’m afraid.” Rose said as jauntily as she could, getting to her feet as she spoke. The woman sighed at the streaks of dampness running down her skirt and the water-logged state of her left boot. It was always getting her in trouble, her inclination to push herself beyond what was good for her. Like reaching a bit too far for handful of watercress or wandering a little too long into the forest near sundown. What good was it to live in a bubble of safety? Rose for one wanted to live a little, so here she was living it up with soggy boot and a stranger in the woods...

The Sev’ryn hunter took out his pack and rather kindly offered her a blanket. The young doctor didn’t even think about refusing the offer and she took the blanket with an appreciative nod. It was always surprising to Rose, the kindheartedness of her mother’s people. Even if she was constantly being watched and judged by the stern medicine women of the Olọravu Slosneppe, at least she had never wanted for shelter or food. Everyone was always taken care of; it was a cultural paradigm that was so different from that of the Strosii.

“Ọfïïsï ke’u iduroṣin murädï” ("Thank you much so") Rose said as she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, feeling much warmer within the next couple trills. When she looked up Rose noticed the hunter appeared to be glaring at the ground next to him. It looked a little peculiar, but it was not the first time she had seen a Sev’ryn acting like this. She was a bit fuzzy on the niceties of their culture, as her father had rarely spoken about the Sev’ryn to the south of Strosdyn he had encountered. However there had been a few instances of her peers in the medicine house trying to explain that many Sev’ryn bonded with spirits that they called familiars. The idea had seemed quite odd to the young mixed blood, to have a constant companion that no one else could see or hear, bound to you forever. Her father had tried to discount it as nothing more than local superstition. Even though he had cared for the Sev’ryn to the south of Strosdyn, some part of him had always doubted their beliefs.

The silent moment broke between the hunter and whoever or whatever he was glaring at. In broken Common the hunter introduced himself and asked for her name.

“I am Rose.” She said trying to enunciate clearly for him. “I really should not have been out here so late.” She said, the embarrassment evident in her tone. With care Rose picked up her bag now heavy with watercress and a few sprigs of meadowsweet and opened it enough for him to see in order to make it clear what she had been doing. “I was looking for plants to make medicine with. I’m a doctor from the Olọravu Slosneppe. ” Realizing that the word ‘doctor’ might be a bit foreign to him as it was more of a northern concept, she struggled for the right words in Xanthea. “Sev mu jade didaras”. (“I heal hurts”) Rose said, speaking the words almost questioningly in case she got the phrasing wrong.

After a few moment the faint sound of yips and howls could be heard in the distance as the more dangerous denizens of the forest began to wake from their daytime slumber. Rose sharply sucked in a breath in dread at the sound of the beastly calls. She had never really been in a truly wild forest like this. There were things that stalked in the night that she hoped to never meet.

spoiler

Feel free to RP any creatures if you want. If not no worries.

[Ti'niva]

Ti'niva smiled as she thanked him for the blanket, he could tell Xanthean was not her native language but he didn't mind. He appreciated the fact that she tried and of course that she could make up for the gaps in his own language too. He often ended up mixing common and Xanthea when speaking to others that shared the languages. It was the easiest way to communicate with them.

Rose, Shïrïyä, his brain naturally translated the flower name as he looked at her. An appropriate name he thought, it seemed to fit her well and he smiled. "Nice know you Rose." He shouldered his pack as she explained her presence among the wild trees. Collecting herbs he gathered from her example as well eventually from her words.

"Ah, Wajen, I get." He nodded before the sound of something unpleasant filled the air. Too close for comfort, it was wolf like and if they were lucky that would be all it was. Still Ti did not wish to try his luck. "Follow, please, it no safe here. Erm, ioang [wolf] could worse be." The young Sev'ryn hunter turned and headed to the right of where he had entered the area, walking at a brisk pace.

This way was less walked but it was still clear and the best way to get through to his clearing. Even in the dark twilight he managed to find his way through the underbrush, memory of the place from daylight guiding him. "My home soon, we be safe at place." He offered her his hand after stepping over an old fallen tree, the rotting wood continuing the natural cycle of life. The sound of rustling could be heard not too far off and Ti'niva's hand fell to his bow on reflex as he scanned the darkness. Still and stood in front of Rose he looked around with the hope of spotting something.

The Sev'ryn relaxed as the sound did not repeat but his gaze continued to keep an eye on the surrounding forest. His concentration was well trained, meditation had helped him to find calm and clarity in moments where others may feel lost. "Ísẹv. Sev kanom kämïlï ies ibinu ïtẹsïwäju." He defaulted back to his native tongue as he quickened, feet moving near to a slow jog.

His familiar had moved to the trees above them, her natural ability to climb giving her a vantage point. You are taking her home? She purred through his conscience and he closed his eyes for a second as he walked. Now is not the time Àine, you have a wrong mind. The words travelled across their telepathic link as he had spent time practising to avoid the awkwardness of talking to air in public. Well we sort of share the same mind don't forget. Her soft words whirled in his head as he shook himself to concentrate more, they were close now.

Translations

"Ísẹv. Sev kanom kämïlï ies ibinu ïtẹsïwäju."- "Quick. I worry something is following us."

[Rose Greenwood]

The howls reverberated through the trees like the string on a harp, echoing until consumed by the yawning depths of the woodland. The forests of Strosdyn near her childhood home had been far tamer than this place. The most frightening creature she had ever run into there was a raccoon that a fourteen arc old Rose had interrupted from his evening meal of blackberries. The animal had been perturbed and had hissed at her, but there was no intent at harm. The creatures in this forest might not be so forgiving.

Ti’niva seemed less surprised than Rose by the presence of nearby predators; she supposed it was a natural thing for a hunter to know that other creatures in the forest shared his profession, even if they pursued a different quarry.

As the Sev’ryn spoke, interlacing Xanthea into his sentence the young woman briefly worked out the meaning of the word he had spoken in his native tongue. As she examined his words she gathered up her shortbow and quiver and quickly belted them back in place before wrapping the borrowed blanket back around her shoulders.

‘Ioang’…she thought to herself, silently speaking the word in her head before the meaning snapped into place. “Wolf?” she said worriedly while following behind Ti’niva.

Rose lightly cleared her throat for effect “Excuse me…but worse than a wolf!?” A cold shiver rippled up her spine at the sort of terrible creatures that might dwell in the dark of the forest. She rarely walked further than half a break from the city, making sure she didn’t stray far from well-trodden foot paths, so Rose had almost zero experience with the deeper reaches of the Makubwa Lori. Her experience with a bow was limited to shooting stationary targets and the occasional rabbit or squirrel when she was a child, so she was next to useless in a fight.

It brought a measure of calm to the red headed healer when Ti’niva spoke, noting that they were not far from safety. It confirmed her suspicion that he lived on his own, away from the comfort of contact with the other Sev’ryn in Desnind. How lonely it might be for him, to rarely encounter others from the outside world. Perhaps the Sev’ryn did have familiars, so they would never be alone. It was a reassuring thought, to imagine having a constant companion that understood you in your heart of hearts. Perhaps Ti’niva was in a way less alone than she thought. Rose had never known was it was like to be alone until the last two arcs. After her father died of a terrible lung sickness she had left everything and come to the homeland of the Sev’ryn to find her mother and a new place to call home. Even after a couple arcs living in Desnind she still felt like a tourist, not quite grasping the culture of Ti’niva’s people and feeling forever disconnected. When she was twenty her father had begrudgingly explained the small tattoo on the inside of her forearm. It had been given to her as an infant when she had been born in the small Sev’ryn settlement in the southern isle of Strosdyn. Of course that was before he had taken her away to be brought up as a proper Strosii. He said that the tattoo was supposed to remind her that she was always connected to something, and that she was never alone. Immediately after he had also argued that it was an eyesore that the southern savages should never have dared to inflict on his daughter. To say the least the little tattoo had brought her more strife than comfort, but it was still a persistent reminder of where she came from.

Rose appreciatively accepted Ti’niva’s hand with nod and a subtle smile as he helped her step over a crumbling log. He was surprisingly well mannered for a hunter who she presumed lived a solitary life. As she made it to the other side and gained even footing the Sev’ryn suddenly released her hand and reached for his bow. The doctor froze, listening for whatever he had picked up on that she had not. Fear bubbled up forming a lump in her throat. Were they being followed, or was it just the wind? There was so little light left in the sky, only a smattering of violet and orange light remained of the sunset. Stars had begun peeking out as night fell.

When Ti’niva spoke in his fluent Xanthea Rose struggled to comprehend, his tone implied that they needed to hurry. There only meaning she could glean from his words was that there was a real possibility that they were being followed. Another rustling in the underbrush could be heard a few paces off, it was loud enough that even the young doctor took notice. It might be a rabbit or it might be something else.

[Ti'niva]

Perhaps the young hunter should have been worried by her shock at the idea of something worse than a wolf. Instead he did not let it bother him, hoping that maybe his own comfort would rub off on her and she would remain calm. Of course that was unlikely but he could hope. "Wolf is only wild dog, we be lucky with ioang." He tried to keep a reassuring tone but with his accent he often sounded a little too serious. "Be calm, forest never all bad, good near too."

While she thought his help good manners he saw only common courtesy, helping another should not need to be taught, among his people it seemed to come naturally. Feeling her cool hand in his caused a slight flush in his cheeks for a brief moment. He made sure to look away as it happened, hiding his young minds response. Still the sound of something was enough distraction to move his mind to more serious issues. The second rustle was a worry and even after having increased his speed it was too much to continue unarmed.

The Sev'ryn drew his bow just in case, looking ahead of him and squinting, searching for anything. Even his trained eyes were unable to spot anything and as he stood their bow in hand the final rays of sun were gone. The star and moonlight all that remained as he listened intently. No more rustles came but still it did not feel quite right. His familiar still prowled above them, jumping from branch to branch but warning of nothing peculiar or dangerous. Perhaps it was small or nothing at all but he was a better judge than that, something was around. He looked over his shoulder at Rose, wondering if she could really use the bow she had.

Slowly now Ti'niva continued forward, fingers tightening on his longbows handle. His other hand hovered over his quiver which hung at his side. Progress suddenly felt agonisingly slow as he moved at half the speed he had to begin with, ready to face anything that might jump out at them between now and his glade. Ready for anything, his mind calm and his bow strung he was hoping they would make it though.

So when the next rustle came and was followed by a flash of movement his bow was drawn in an instant, arrow aimed at the creature that had pranced into their path. The Icraphern stood, staring at them in what seemed like its own shock as Ti noticed the creature had been up wind from them. Unintentionally it had followed their path and while the young Sev'ryn had only managed to get two rabbits he did not feel like killing the small creature this moment. Lowering his bow and sighing somewhat relieved he spoke softly. "It Icraphern, no bad from them." His heart began to slow again because while his mind had been calm his body had been spreading adrenaline at a high speed.

Waving his arms Ti'niva caused the small creature to dart off back into the underbrush and away from the two "We near." Carrying on a little faster then they would quickly come across the clearing in which he lived. The small lean-to was opposite them over the small stream, only a step wide, along with it was the small cart and a barrel. Smiling Ti'niva continued across the glade and lit the lantern that rested atop the barrel. "It only small, I make fire now." He shrugged slightly and went and collected some sticks and small logs from the back of the cart, before moving to a small ring of stones not far from the lean-to.

[Rose Greenwood]

The distant hoot of an owl drifted through the canopy; the sound was familiar, a reminder of her childhood in the forests of her home. When the hunter remarked that the forest was never all bad, Rose couldn’t help but agree. There were many creatures that lived here that probably meant them no harm. Not to mention that the vast majority of the remedies they used in the medicine house where harvested from this very forest. Of course some were capable of being grown in the city, but many more, like the watercress weighing down her bag, grew far better in the wilder parts of the world. It was a heartening thought that there was less in the forest to fear than she had thought. Perhaps it had been the darkness playing with her mind. Rose was not accustomed to being outside Desnind after nightfall; so she was made all the more thankful that she was not alone.

“I suppose you are right my alailesin (‘friend’)” the young doctor replied.

The second rustling in the underbrush made Rose give pause; trying not to act like a frightened child she stood her ground and slowly began reaching for her bow. Ti’niva had already drawn his bow, its exquisite carvings of animals and plants gleaming even in the silvery moonlight. It was impressive how quickly he reacted; she supposed that it was probably second nature to him. You couldn’t make mistakes out here in the wild when it really mattered.

Suddenly a white flash darted from the brush; it was a small deer-like creature that Rose had only ever seen off in the distance before. It was an attractive little animal with a single antler rising from the crest of its head and delicate cloven feet. It seemed just as startled as they had been upon running into each other. It was terribly amusing that this small beast was probably the source of all their worry. Ti’niva spoke, explaining in a few short words what the creature was and that it was no threat.

“Icraphern…” Rose murmured to herself before laughing softly as Ti’niva waved the creature off. “Sngä’ï toṣe ar wàsí…but we were afraid of it...” (‘Was little and pretty’) she paused before quickly following after the huntsman. “Life can be so humbling.” Rose remarked incredulously as they hurried through woodland.

They quickly passed dozens of tree trunks and waist high bushes as they pushed through the darkness; Ti’niva leading the way. Rose silently made a mental note that she needed to invest in some good trousers for moments like this. Dresses were not suited for gallivanting through the forest. Her father had always disapproved of unladylike attire, but he was gone now, and Rose was quickly beginning to realize that her father had been mistaken about many things.

They emerged into a small clearing in the trees, the dim outline of a lean-to shelter and perhaps a cart appearing ahead of them. The gentle murmuring of a stream could be detected a few yards away. ‘So this was where he lived’, she thought to herself. It was so isolated from the outside world, at least from Rose’s perspective. With a sigh of relief she knelt down near the ring of stones once Ti’niva announced he was going to build a fire. A little warmth would be a welcome relief from the cold of the air and the damp still clinging to her boot and her skirt. With care the woman carefully removed her bow, quiver and bag of herbs from her hip and shoulder. The refreshing minty scent of the medowsweet wafted around her as she nimbly checked the bag to ensure she had not lost any of the plants in their walk.

“Ọfïïsï ke’u Ti’niva”(‘Thank you Ti’niva) Rose said gratefully, “Where I come from, not many people would welcome a lost ẹru (‘stranger’) into their skepek” (‘home’)

[Ti'niva]

The sound of her laughter behind him caused his breathe to catch for a moment, it was so uncommon for him to hear a woman laughing. The sound was quite different to the wilderness he was sued too, in fact it was quite pleasant. "Yes, wàsí." He peered over his shoulder and looked at her, while she was not dressed quite appropriately for their location he couldn't help noticing how the dress made her look. She was far less wild than him, more human and tame, while she looked out of place she just seemed to fit and he smiled before continuing too his home among the trees. Many would not call it a home but to him there was no doubt that it was where he would live for a while yet.

So once they breached the threshold of his home and he collected the wood and a knife and tinder box from his lean-to he moved over and knelt beside her. Ti began to stack the wood and kindling into a sort of pyramid before taking a large stick and using his knife to slice thin pieces of wood off. "We all ẹru, but I would no want left in the cold alone." He glanced at her over his wood as he arranged it, delicately sliding the thinner pieces into the base of the pyramid. Finally he took his flint and steel and sparked up some kindling on a flat stone, once caught he tipped the burning bits into the base.

The flames slowly beginning to grow he caught the sent of whatever was in her small bag, minty and refreshing he raised an eyebrow, curious what she had in there. "It smell good, what is?" He gestured towards her bag as he held his hands out towards the still small fire, the bigger wood not yet burning. He now slipped his own pack off as he waited, taking his bow onto his lap and removing the string. The precious item deserved more care than his old yew bow which was lent up inside the small shack. "I no doc..doc-tor," he sounded the new word out as he repeated her words from earlier, "so I no know about special plant." The Sev'ryn allowed himself to smile, impressed with his quick learning.

"You want eat?" He reached for one of the rabbits he had killed while out on his hunt, knowing he was in need of something for himself at least. "I no special ninka[cook], I make food tàkọ[quite] good though." The hunter began to skin the rabbit, taking his knife and cutting along the belly of the larger rabbit he'd caught. He did not know if the girl had ever actually seen animal skinned before and perhaps he should have asked because it was not a clean exercise. He did make it look easy though as he pulled the skin away from the flesh and removed the creatures innards, wrapping them in the small fur to be buried later.

Standing with bloodied hands, Ti'niva moved to go over and wash his hands in the small stream. "Ọfïïsï ke’u muradi ọwọpọ osise anou hänkäulï sọ miu sngap." His words were quite yet still just about audible as he prayed to Moseke over the washing of his hands, the blood swirling and dancing in the flowing water. Standing again he returned to her side, continuing to prepare the rabbit for cooking.

Translations

"Ọfïïsï ke’u muradi ọwọpọ osise anou hänkäulï sọ miu sngap."- "Thank you earth mother for the reward of my hunt."

[Rose Greenwood]

Rose’s father had always believed that the Sev’ryn were a savage people but Rose was learning something new and surprising about them every day. Their capacity for compassion was unlike any she had experienced before. The Strosii people were advanced in many ways, but there was a strong inclination to only take care of yourself and your family. Everyone else was expected to fend for themselves. This was often the way of things for other civilizations across Idalos, but not the Sev’ryn; and of course not Ti’niva.

The doctor leveled a measured gaze at the hunter as he carefully worked to build a fire. She watched as he carefully built a pyramid from different sizes of wood; placing the thinner twigs and branches near the base to give the flame a better chance at taking hold of the fuel. It was almost surgical; Rose could appreciate the expertise that the hunter put into his fire making in the same way she could appreciate a good stitch that closed a wound.

When Ti’niva posed his question Rose was beginning to carefully strip the stems from the dagger shaped leaves of the Meadowsweet she had harvested. The refreshing aroma of the herb filled the immediate area around the fire.

“This is called Meadowsweet.” She noted casually while deft fingers plucked leaves away from the fuzzy stem. “Adugbo èrè ies ibiti osise” (Fever it is good for) she said in stumbling Xanthea. “You make ẹbun (tea) with the dried leaves, though it is rather bitter” Rose remarked while casting aside the leafless stems, leaving a clump of the leaves in her lap that she gently swept into her bag.

Watching Ti’niva unstring his bow reminded Rose that she while she was not half bad as a doctor; she was incredibly lackluster when it came to the sort of things the Sev’ryn people excelled at. Blushing at her ignorance, the young woman retrieved her own bow that she had haphazardly cast aside and unstrung the string with fumbling hands. The simple bow had been a gift from her father; he had begrudgingly bought it for her after she had pleaded for months to have one. Rose had never really been taught how to use it properly, and certainly never how to care for it, maybe that had been her father’s intent; that she treated it like a toy, rather than a weapon. Her pale fingers gripped the lacquered wood as she stared blankly at the bow. Sometimes she became lost in the fear that she had made the wrong choice. In coming to Desnind, had she simply been acting like a foolish child? Should she have remained in Strosdyn and filled her father’s shoes and followed in his footsteps? She would have been safe, sitting securely by a crackling fire with her nose in a book if she had never changed her course. Things had seemed so clear the morning after William Greenwood had passed, but now and then Rose encountered moments of doubt.

Ti’niva’s question partially broke Rose from her daze. She quickly dropped her bow back to the ground as though it were a viper. “Food would be good, Ọfïïsï ke’u” (‘Thank you’) Rose responded distantly before fully snapping back and attempting to cover up the lapse in her normally more cheerful demeanor.

“Sev syayvi ibiti ninka basata ainev” (‘I no good cook at all’) she laughed lightly before excitedly pointed to her bag still heavy with watercress “But maybe I can help” Reaching into her bag she pulled out a handful of the aquatic plant. “This is excellent for wounds…daneth motsi ibiti ïyäpä” (‘but eat good too’) the doctor declared, pleased with herself at remembering that watercress was delightfully peppery and lovely when eaten raw and paired with some sort of meat. As Rose spoke Ti’niva began skinning the rabbits, she was startled at first by the suddenness of the action but the sight of blood was something she had gotten over long ago. She had seen limbs amputated and growths surgically removed by her father in her childhood home. While startling it was nothing she was unfamiliar with.

While Ti’niva moved to wash his hands in the nearby babbling stream Rose began trimming the stems of the leafy watercress by hand. Pinching the delicate stems between her fingertips, she separated circular leaves from the attached pale green tendrils. The warmth of the growing fire was a welcome comfort as she settled into the repetitive, but calming activity of breaking the plant down. In the darkness Rose could hear Ti’niva murmuring something as he cleansed his hands. She could not fully make out all the words but she eventually reasoned that it was a short prayer.

[Ti'niva]

Ti'niva watched as her hands delicately tore the leaves away from the stems of the meadowsweet. It was intriguing to him, the skill with which she handled the small plants. He had never seen anyone do as she was, so he seemed momentarily mesmerised by the action. The smell of the herb hung in the air, filling his nostrils as he returned his attention to the fire. The addition of the wood smoke was an interesting mix, oddly pleasant as he moved onto his bow.

The action was quick and easy for the Sev'ryn, he had practised the same motions thousands of time in his life. Watching curiously as the red headed woman fumbled around with the weapon. Maybe he was concerned for her safety or the well being of the bow but something in him caused him to reach out and assist. His own bow rested on his lap while his fingers came to her pale ones and guided them in the correct and simplest motion to remove the string safely. "String hurt if no care. Like this best." Ti'niva smiled and moved his hand back again as she gripped the weapon tightly, he knew better than to pry into another's mind though and so once done helping with the string he returned his attention to his own jobs.

Skinning the rabbit was easy enough and he was glad to see that Rose was not bothered by the act, apparently she was not squeamish. Although when he remembered the fact she was a doctor it was much less surprising. He looked at the herb she intended for them to eat the rabbit with and he raised an eyebrow, after living so long in the forest you would think he'd recognise more plants. "What is?" He smiled as he took a single tendril of the water cress and sniffed it, the green plant quickly coated in the blood from his fingers. He frowned slightly as the smell of blood overcame that of the watercress, he shook his head at himself before moving to clean his hands and the plant in the process.

Once he had cleaned the redness from his tanned skin he returned, slipping the also cleaned cress between his lips. The peppery taste unusual for him and his very simplistic diet. "It good, much mẹsän (taste)." The Sev'ryn smiled and carefully pushed a sharpened stick through the rabbit and wedging it under a stone to hold it over the flames. "I can?" Ti'niva gestured towards the bow she had cast aside rather abruptly earlier, curious about the weapon she seemed to dislike. The Sev'ryn reached for the wooden length, slowly so he could be stopped if she did not wish him to touch it.

"You should more eaaz (careful), with bow." He smiled as he gently took up the treated wood between his fingers, allowing his tanned fingers to trace the edges. The polished finish reflected the fire light as he turned it in his hands. "You good to bow, bow good to you." He tested the flex of the wood, seeing how well it returned to its natural shape and it was not too bad. The smell of the cooking rabbit began to mix with that of the herbs and smoke and Ti'niva offered her the bow back, the wood balanced on the palm of his outstretched hand.