• Closed • As the sun rises [Kali'rial]

[Pash Raj'oriq]

Zi'da 1, 717

Somewhere near the edges of Scalvoris Harbor

It is done.

Pash had wrapped calloused, Empathy-marked fingers around a gem that Schubert, that Cassion himself, had handed him and the rush of warmth that filled him had been one that had become familiar over the seasons since he'd met Zanik face-to-face: favor, or at least the growth of it. The last words of the Wandering Immortal were whispers in the back of his waking mind, promises that his Maker had won the strange contest that had consumed them for however long in their sleep.

The tall Biqaj groaned, stretching his tall self back into his physical existence, the familiar comforts of his bed and the sway of his sloop sensations he didn't know he missed until he felt them. The warmth next to him was just as familiar now and Pash couldn't help but grin, tanned, inked arms reaching for the lithe huntress who shared his bed, his life, hoping the sudden movement towards him would also drag her out of the strange dream they'd shared,

"Good mornin', qau'ma."

Pash hummed in a thick too-early baritone with a few kisses that felt trials overdue, both feeling the need to get up and move after so long asleep and yet unwilling to let go of Kali'rial right away, "I think we're back where we're s'posed t' be. It were jus' a dream?"

It was cold, and the seafaring musician had no idea how long they'd been asleep. What trial was it? What break?

Reluctantly, he slipped from the warm covers to make his way through the small cabin, ignoring his pants to instead go reawaken the small stove in his galley that kept the tiny space he called home toasty and also to perhaps make some tea. The embers were cold, completely out, which meant it had been at least a trial if not more since they'd disappeared into the strange contest of Cassion's creation. As far as he could tell, The Muse, appeared safe and sound, but he'd have to go above decks and asses the situation with his own eyes. Once he had a fire started, he basked in the heat for a bit or two, the chill of Zi'da on the open sea having thoroughly crept into every nook and cranny of his tiny cabin.

Memories of all that happened filtered through his thoughts as he returned to the bed to tug on his pants, never one to resist making a show of himself for his Sevir lover,

"How strange that all was, Kali. It weren't at all what I was expectin' when m' Maker called us first all those seasons ago. We're safe, it seems, thanks t' Cassion's kindness, too. So, I think U'Frek 's gone an' Blessed me." Pash remembered the feeling, though he hadn't heard the confirmation from the lips of his Maker himself. He also didn't think of it as something U'Frek had done for their entire group, and would express his surprise and admiration when Kali'rial admitted the same, "Well, s' a boon t' both 'f us, qes? Now that His domain be our home. I'll make a seafarin' wife out o' you yet, I'm sure."

The tall Biqaj's grin was wide, taunting her, but his tide pool gaze drifted to the hatch that lead above decks, "We'd best make sure we're no' stranded, eh qau'ma?"

Off Topic

PSYCH!!!! Still here, peoples. For this thread. Love you, Scalv.

[Kali'rial]

1st Zi'da, 717

It is done.

Kali'rial groaned as the arms of the tanned bard drew her from the dregs of the strange dream. Responding to the lovely kisses with a smile, the Sev'ryn refused to open her eyes, as though commited to staying asleep even if she was most definitely awake. In her hand, she could feel the cool blue gemstone that had travelled the planes of Emea with her, and moreso she could smell something. She sniffed with a frown.

"Morning? It feels like I've been awake for trials." Reluctantly, the brunette huntress opened her eyes, smelling deeply with another curious frown and lifting her head to look at the small kitchenette.

"Are you cooking something? I can smell...I don't know something nice." She groaned as he slipped away, defying the morning and cuddling into the covers to watch the bard move around in all his naked glory with a small smile. Indeed, she was of the opinion it was most definitly a dream, and as she lay waiting in the covers the southener opened her hand to look at the gem. It was beautiful. Special.

Immortals, what was that smell?

"Yes, I must admit it wasn't what I'd expected either, but then what does one expect when called upon by the Immortals? Blessed...oh..OH!" She sat up sharply, looking at her skin with wide eyed surprised. There was a very faint aura of a pale blue, reminiscent of the color she had seen in her familiar dream, coming off her like steam from deciduous undergrowth on a winter morning. Looking at the seafaring musician again with amber eyes she grinned, planning on answering his comment about being a seafaring wife with something witty when suddenly without warning Sarkis phased into form on the bard's empty side of the bed with a delighted whine, licking her face and wriggling into her arms. Kali'rial laughed and hugged the large wolf close, kissing his muzzle and trying to tame his excited welcome.

"Yes, yes we're all home. I'm glad to see you too. Glowing? Yes, I suppose we are. It's U'frek's blessing I think. Would Karem be offended? No, oh thank the Mother." The wolf-walker conducted her seemingly one-sided converstion with the canine, before he moved to greet Pash in the same excited fashion. As the man returned to the bed for pants, the strangly sweet smell became stronger. Kali'rial chuckled at his antics, even if she looked around again with a sniff. Clambing over the bed she grabbed the Biqaj by the shoulders and sniffed him, before sitting back on her heels in her own unclothed state.

"It's you! You smell...nice. Like...honey or flowers?" Letting go of the taller man, she looked at Sarkis for validation. The wolf sniffed at the sailor and snorted.

"He smells like he always smells. Salty." The brunette huntress frowned and climbed out of the bed to slip her warm knit dress and oiled leggings on, dropping the gem on the table as she did so.

"Oh, its stopped!" She proclaimed suddenly, reaching up to run her fingers through her thick dark locks. Making a face of confusion, she reached for the gem and froze.

"There! There it is again!" Looking at Pash, she frowned.

"You smell like...like all the things I loved as a child. All the sweet things." Looking down at the gem in her hand, Kali smiled.

"I think it's this thing. I don't know what exactly, but I can smell something about you Pash." Holding the faintly glowing blue gift, she nodded.

"Yes, let's go and have a look." She gestured for him to lead the way, curious about the smell and the gemstone in her hand.

[Pash Raj'oriq]

"Cookin'? Ze. No' yet, but I could use some breakfast in a bit."

Pash chuckled, bare, scarred back to the dark-haired huntress as he finished with his stove, dismissing her sleepy question as something having to do with her Velduris mark. Returning to the bed, he grinned once he realized they shared the same blessing of his Maker, both of them having the same misty, faint blue glow. He was already eager to see what sort of abilities the blessing granted them, curious to know how U'Frek's domains of water, navigation, and auras translated into his mortal reaches like Zanik's gifts. The faint aura wasn't too noticeable, really, until his lover pointed it out, but the rush of a thrill in the hull of his chest at sharing something such as U'Frek's notice was hard for the tall Biqaj to entirely contain. Happy to curl fingers into Sarkis' soft fur when the wolf excitedly greeted him, he was caught off-guard by Kali'rial snatching him for a sniff,

"Well, I can't say I've done anythin' new with m'self." The tall Biqaj couldn't help but purr his response in a distracted baritone, calloused hands straying from the wolf to his Wolf-Walker, warm against tanned, familiar skin while he leaned for a kiss, "We don't even know how long we've been asleep. Honey? Flowers? Are y' sure we had th' same dream? "

Lagoon blue eyes warmed into green in his amusement, but he watched her curiously none the less, gaze washing over the gem. Reaching for his, which was still in the bed they shared near his pillow, he turned it over with Empathy-marked fingers and rolled his sea-built shoulders in a shrug, inhaling deeply and smelling nothing out of the ordinary anywhere,

"I don't smell anythin' diff'rent. Mine mustn't be th' same 's yours. Then again, I'm no' sure mine does anythin'." He closed his fist around his gem and felt nothing, watching Kali'rial tug her clothes on with a coy sort of grin. He made sure to pull on his shirt, though he was lazy with the buttons and rubbed a rough palm over the still pink scars that now marked his chest and sides as permanent reminders of all the most recent seasons of adventures, aware that it was most likely cold above decks if nothing else, "All th' things y' loved as a child? Hmm. Well, I don' think 't would have anythin' t' do with how you feel 'bout me ... so, how d' those things relate t' who I am?"

Pash considered the strange sense of smell her gem seemed to give her, "Y'can smell somethin' o' me, eh? M'haps I should hold 't an' see what happens?" Insatiably curious, the seafaring musician was eager to experience what she described, and as he paused to put on the ever-warm wool cloak he'd had made in Scalvoris for himself, offering his lover hers as well, he kept his gem in hopes he would notice something different as well.

Opening the hatch sent a rush of cold air into his face and through the cabin, the tall Biqaj hissing a few Rakahi expletives before climbing above deck. It was snowing, lightly, and all of The Muse was covered in a fine dusting of the white stuff. The sails were still tucked away as they had been trials ago before they went to bed, and the sloop rocked a little harder than usual in the choppy Harbor. Thankfully, no ice coated the deck under the snow and Pash's sandaled feet made their way from bow to stern, checking rigging and investigating to make sure that his sloop was still in proper form. Not yet bothering to prepare to sail, he attempted to look around and get his bearings, wondering how far off-course they'd drifted, wondering about the date and the break, but it was too cloudy to tell direction or time of the trial.

The chill didn't bite so hard because of his cloak and Pash gratefully wrapped it tightly around himself, letting the rolling of the waves bring him familiar comforts. Looking back down at his gem in his sea-worn palm again, he closed his fingers around it, not realizing at first that as he did so, he began to glow,

"I still don' smell anythin' other than th' sea an' th' cold. Do y' smell anythin' diff'rent up here? 'bout me?" The tall Biqaj grinned, curious and yet confused at the same time, his own tangle shifting with his new mix of emotions. Whatever Kali was smelling, Pash felt as though he should be able to figure it out, as though it was somehow right on the edge of his understanding.

[Kali'rial]

1st Zi'da, 717

As the bard pondered the curiosities of both her gem and his own, Kali’rial followed him on deck and stood in barefoot in the fine dusting of snow, tossing the ever-warm cloak around her shoulders. Breathing deeply as she watched Pash check his sloop, admiring the ease in which he moved around the beloved ship. Turning to look out over the ocean, the brunette watched as icy waves broke the dark surface with foamy peaks.

Cassion. U’frek. Karem. The Sev’ryn who had barely known any Immortals outside of Moseke and Lisirra had now met three, two of which had blessed her. Raising her arms, Kali marvelled at the faint blue glow, wondering what exactly the boon would provide. The ocean seemed to call to her, as though she could reach out and turn the waves to her command.

Glancing behind her as Pash moved to stop and question what she could smell, the southerner frowned and moved to grab the tall sailor by the arm. Leaning in, she sniffed him.

“It’s different. It’s definitely you, but it’s...I don’t know...it sort of smells like...I can’t pinpoint the scent. It’s intriguing, or rather, it makes me feel like you could be intrigued. And something else.” Furrowing her brow, the young Sev’ryn shook her head and narrowed her golden eyes.

“Confusing. Like I can’t tell exactly what the specific smell is.” Taking his hand, the huntress placed the gem in his palm and wrapped his fingers around it.

“Here, tell me what you get.” Stepping back a little, she glanced at Sarkis as he stepped onto the dec, beckoning the wolf with a laugh. Kneeling down and ruffling his furry face, the wolf-walker felt a surge of delight. In their shared dream the canine had given up every ounce of energy he had to save Emmaline, and although the Sev’ryn has been worried, she felt joy and relief to see him bright eyed and bushy tailed.

“It’s good to see you okay again. I would never forgive myself if we’d lost you.” The golden eyed wolf made a half growl, half groan in his chest and wagged his tail.

“Can’t get rid of me that easy Kali’rial. Karem blessed all of her pack long long ago. We are, for the most part, immortal.” Licking the huntress on the jaw as she moved to stand, the lupine creature let his tongue loll in a wolfish laugh before he moved to find somewhere warmer to curl up. He might be invincible, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t cold.

Kali turned to look at the seafaring minstrel with a tilt of her head, arms crossed and face expectant.

“Well, anything?” The shorter huntress asked, both if he could smell things and if he had noticed anything else about his own gem. A faint bluish glow graced the bard’s skin, but then, it also graced hers too. Kali attributed it to U’frek’s mark, not considering for a moment it might be something to do with the gem.

[Pash Raj'oriq]

The tall Biqaj couldn't help but grin at all of the sniffing, irises warming from lagoon blue to an almost fresh Ashan green in her vicinity with amusement, laughing a cloud of breath at her frustrated curiosity, "Could it be somethin' o' Karem instead—oh."

Kali'rial pressed her gem into his other hand and he closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to understand, calloused fingers curling around the small stone. The Empath inhaled, attempting to smell what his lover could, but soon realized that while the landscape of scents that filled his senses were remarkably different, the experience was familiar. The sensation wasn't the same but the concept was and he grinned, so familiar with the spark that lived and grew and wrestled for power within him that he knew almost instantly what was happening,

"Wo chet, qau'ma! This gem lets y' smell what I see through m' magic. Sorta. It be a bit diff'rent, but, well, th' same. Here, I'll show you." Handing the gem back, he shoved his own in his pocket, forgetting about it in the excitement of the moment, the chilled breeze that howled over the deck flapping their cloaks and tugging at his hair. Cheeks red from the cold already, he was grinning, "I'm gonna change m' feelin's since I know m' own tangle best. Then y' can smell th' changes."

The seafaring musician chuckled, already visibly excited that they could share in his gift in a strange way, though he wondered if the gem had a duration or not. Closing his eyes for a moment, Pash stood on the frigid, rolling deck and sought his center, feet shifting slightly as if he indeed required a more combat-like stance to do so. After a slow, steamy exhale, his eyes opened again, irises rimmed with gold as he sought his own tangle, reaching within the threads of his own now-familiar emotions to strum a single one at a time as he walked her through the more obvious ones,

"This one's easy. It's m' calm. An' then here's happiness. Oh! An' how 'bout m' love for you." Aware that his spark seemed to amplify and exude his natural state of being, his calm, easy-going nature, to almost project it into the personal space around him, the tall Biqaj first strummed similar feelings, knotting back others until it was perhaps the most dominant emotion he could feel. His grin was mischievous, excited, and curious, and he watched his dark-haired huntress' face as he shifted from one emotion to the next, expertly weaving and unweaving the threads in his tangle as he narrated them, "What's 't smell like t' you?"

Waiting for her to answer, he nodded excitedly, "Another, then. This one be fear."

The transition wasn't an easy one, for Pash was forced to create the threads of fear, to manifest them from the ether itself, instead of find them in his tangle. Nothing about his current situation on his familiar sloop with his lover and her spirit wolf made him afraid, and so the seafaring musician created the threads of fear and wove it into his own tangle, carefully releasing the calm. He felt his pulse quicken and his thoughts race, the physical effects of creating such an emotion affecting his body despite how he knew what he was doing, "Does 't smell diff'rent? D' you want one more t' smell? I can keep goin', o' course."

Letting Kali'rial describe the experience, he slowly let go of the fear and cut it away from where he'd tied it into his tangle, exhaling a long, slow breath and stepping closer because it was quite chilly, snow flurries twisting in the breeze. His tide pool gaze took in the faint, misty blue glow they both exuded from their mark, watching it dissipate with a curious fascination. How much had changed in just a handful of seasons, Pash thought wistfully, "I wonder what mine does then, 'cause 't doesn't do that. No' that I need 't with Empathy, o' course."

Digging his gem back out and turning it over in his hand, he realized briefly that his glow was perhaps noticeably brighter than Kali'rial's, but wasn't sure of the connection,

"Hmm. I'm a bit brighter than y'are—" The wind howled across the deck, clawing at their clothes and eager to steal their breath, and as it did so, some of the rigging was snatched up with it, which whipped in their direction. Catching the movement out of the corner of his eye, probably just as his lover tensed to move out of the way, he turned in time to get smacked with the rope in the chest. Grunting from the force, Pash realized he felt the impact but that it didn't hurt,

"Mezo!" He hissed, but the seafaring musician's expression was one of surprise instead of pain, glancing curiously at his dark-haired huntress, he made the comment as he moved across the deck to secure the cold, wet rope again, "I didn't feel that, qau'ma. Like when we did some trainin' an' I had m' new armor on. Interestin'."

Pash wasn't sure how to further test this feeling without violence, smirking in thought as he considered his options.

[Kali'rial]

1st Zi'da, 717

Kali frowned suddenly as Pash grinned and named exactly what he thought was happening with her gem. Taking the gem back with a bit of reluctance, she glanced down at the blue stone in her hand with mild trepidation. The bard had, seasons ago now, declared himself a monster for his spark ability and whilst the Sev’ryn vehemently disagreed it still scared her a little. Did this gemstone mean she was marked by the spark too?

No, it didn’t feel like it. She didn’t have any residual effects from the gem when she let it go. It was a nicely sealed package, much like the ice crystals on Immortals Tongue.

Closing her hand around the gem, dark locks swirling around her face in the chill wind, the huntress breathed deeply as the Empath shifted his emotions.

“Calm, like a chamomile tea. Happiness, oh it’s like the forest.” Smelling again, she smiled at the last one.

“Honey. Flowers. I smelt that one before below deck. Love.” Spurred on by his excitement, Kali’rial nodded eagerly as Pash suggested something a little different. A little stronger.

“Oh...oh no I don’t like fear. It smells coppery, like...it smells like blood.” Wrinkling her nose, the southerner shook her head.

“That’s enough I think. This is..this is good. Valuable.” Bouncing the gem in her hand, Kali slipped it into her own pocket as the taller bard withdrew his own again. Immediately she noticed the blue glow around him increased, nodding and opening her mouth to reply at his unintentionally insulting comment. A bit brighter? Really??

It happened so fast she barely caught it, wet rigging whipping around to smack Pash in the chest. Kali gasped.

“Pash! Mothers Grace, are you okay?!” The brunette watched with surprise as he moved to tie the rope, explaining that it in fact, had not hurt. She raised an eyebrow at the smirk on his face.

“Really? So, maybe...maybe your gem is a shield of some kind?” Moving with determination, Kali removed her cloak and placed it on the deck. Raising her hands in soft fists, she nodded seriously at the inked man.

“Come on Biqaj, show me some moves and we’ll test this out.” Unwilling to test the theory with bow and arrow, and not skilled in unarmed combat at all, the short huntress offered the only idea she had. A small smile danced across her lips.

“I could use the skills anyway, next time I get speared by my own team mate and can’t use my arrows. Besides, the activity will warm us up. All else fails, I’ll just shoot you. Or bite you.” She joked with a wide wolfish grin.

[Pash Raj'oriq]

The seafaring musician could not at all hide his enthusiasm at all of her reactions to feelings and how they smelled. He watched her with an eagerness that was written all over his handsome face, grinning and nodding at her reactions,

"Where y' smell, I see colors when I use magic. Strings called threads make up th' fabric o' your feelin's, woven together an' they're called a tangle. We can practice more."

The rigging smacked him and as they stood there considering what had happened, he peeked under his shirt and saw no sign of redness or impact. Smirking coyly at both the action for Kali'rial's benefit as well as at the evidence that his gem was some kind of shield or armor, the tall Biqaj's thoughts turned over the implication warmly. Then his lithe huntress was taking off her cloak and he laughed, reaching to remove his own. The wind struck again then and he inhaled sharply, desperate for the cold not to steal all of his breath. His irises warmed green in amusement as his lover raised her hands in fists,

"No' all o' those things sound like fightin'." Pash purred wickedly, rolling his sea-built shoulders in a shrug and looking again at the glow that covered him, brighter than the mist of U'Frek's blessing, "But, qes, if this be some sort o' shield, we'd best test it. Very science-like, us."

The seafaring musician almost giggled, shifting his stance and nodding for her to copy him, repeating the movement to slide his feet into a more stable position, showing her where to put her weight. He paused despite the chill, wanting her to feel the roll of the ship beneath her bare feet in order to find her balance. Stepping closer so that her blows would reach him after he was finished instructing her, he adjusted the way her fingers curled into fists to protect her thumb,

"Like this. Don't want t' be breakin' fingers when you're tryin' t' break someone else's face, eh?" He then slowly demonstrated a swing for her abdomen with his left fist, moving to show her the entire motion, "Get your knuckles right there." He gently dug his fist into muscle that covered a delicate kidney, "But use your whole body. No' just your hand, y'know?"

Demonstrating a few more times, all without any power behind it, he stepped back a little and raised his hands to give her the clear shot. Pash couldn't help but grin coyly,

"Your turn, qa'uma. Really try t' hit me, though. Hard an' all. Even without armor, it's fine. I can take it." He winked at her then, arching an inviting brow and biting his bottom lip while he braced himself for a swing or two.

[Kali'rial]

1st Zi'da, 717

“Maybe not all of them are fighting. And yes, very science-like.” The wolf walker grinned, unable to stop herself from shaking her head a little at his comments.

Always the charmer.

Following the taller sailors lead, Kali’rial shifted her stance, moving her chilled feet just so on the snow touched wood. It was cold, bitterly so, but the huntress knew she would warm up soon enough. With enough movement the cold would barely matter. Looking carefully, she watched as the man adjusted her thumb, tucking the knowledge away in her mind.

“Right, got it.” She said with a serious nod, taking into account the movements of the boat under her feet. It wasn’t archery, no, but the idea of finding your center and balance was similar.

That was probably it when it came to comparisons however.

Sarkis shifted to his spirit form, unwilling to deal with the cold if he didn’t have to, and watched the two with an amused lolling of his tongue. The Wolf and The Sea, facing off on The Muse, the canine thought to himself. It was a rather befitting analogy.

The brunette watched, and felt, as the bard moved slowly to show her the punch. There, right in where she knew the kidney lay. A sensitive organ, which in combination with the liver in humanoid races, worked as a filter for the blood system to remove toxins and such. She remembered from her medical books, much to her inner delight.

As Pash stepped back, Kali practiced her punch. Whole body move, not just the arm, putting weight behind the throw. She nodded, smiling at his wink and readying herself.

“Alright then. No holds barred.”

Without hesitation or pulling the punch, the Sev’ryn swung with her whole body, fist tight and wrist firm to towards the Biqaj’s side. It felt odd, but hopefully she was doing it right.

As she connected with a curious sound, the huntress made a sudden sound of surprise, drawing back her hand and shaking it.

“That kinda hurt!” The Sevir declared, examining her knuckles for injuries before shaking it again. It wasn’t serious, just unexpected.

“You feel...you don’t feel spongy, like muscle. You feel harder, like thick leather hide.” She grinned, shaking her hands again and returning to the stance he’d showed her.

“More?”

[Pash Raj'oriq]

It was with a strange expression of anticipation and pleasure that Pash braced himself for Kali'rial's swing at his person, arms raised a little higher than usual to make sure that she had the best access to his body for her impact. When her fist landed with enough of a force to make him grunt (and grin), he paid attention to the feeling. But then his huntress winced and shook her hand,

"Hurt? Eja’yoama." The tall Biqaj blinked and offered his apologies, but when she said the impact felt like thick leather hide, he made a noise of surprise and understanding, putting the pieces together about what sort of power his gem may be granting him, "Oh! Like m' armor!"

While he felt nothing, calloused hands instinctively running over his person as though somehow he felt different, Empathy-marked fingers only feeling the fabric of his clothes with scars and muscle underneath. Interesting. He reached into his domain bag and carefully withdrew the alchemically-enhanced hardened leather cuirass that he'd had made in Vhalar shortly after their rough return to the Immortal's Tongue, turning it over in his calloused hands while he considered. While the pieces of armor he'd had commissioned still allowed the salty bard a certain freedom of movement that he needed to be effective in his unarmed combat style, they still had weight and he still had to get used to them entirely.

The armor had been enhanced through the process of alchemy that Pash couldn't pretend to understand but was still willing to spend the nel on, and was now as hard as plate armor made of Malorite. However, if he now could gain the added protection of leather armor without wearing anything at all, well, what a boon indeed. His freedom of movement maintained, he would only have to don his leather pieces when absolutely necessary.

Holding the chest plate between them, he invited Kali'rial to feel it for herself, "Like this? Similar, at least? Or different?"

Once satisfied, she offered another round and the seafaring musician couldn't help but smile coyly at her eagerness, hints of violet coursing through his irises at the enticing allure of his lover's tenacity,

"I'm spongy, eh qa'uma? We'll see 'bout that."

Pash chuckled, shifting back into a position to receive another hit or two, this time taking a moment to see if he felt anything different, any weight at all, but he did not. Tide pool gaze warming into the emerald of his amusement as he taunted the lithe huntress, "You can hit as hard as y'like, but this time, keep in mind it may hurt a bit."

[Kali'rial]

1st Zi'da, 717

Kali’rial nodded as she poked the hardened armour plate he held up, seriousness on her features as she felt around.

“Like this, yes, but also not. If I touch you now without attacking you feel normal.” Moving her hand, the brunette huntress stroked the skin of his torso, pressing gently for good measure.

“But when I put some force behind it, there’s that same firmness as your chest plate.” Again, as if to demonstrate she swatted him with the back of her hand, knocking on the firmer feeling flesh.

Looking at the bard, Kali couldn’t help but feel her cheeks warm at his altogether devious violet gaze and the scent that wafted from the tall inked man. It smelt of warm bedsheets and things most improper for public viewing.

“Well spongy, some of the time.” She said with a private smile, before moving to hit him again. Turn into the punch, use your whole body. The Sev’ryn repeated the instructions in her head as she moved, ignoring the slight sting of contacting with the strangely hardened flesh. Testing the waters, she aimed for other areas of his body. Right kidney, left kidney, jaw, sternum.

“This is good.” The huntress said with a grin, enjoying the sparring session the testing had turned into.

“Teach me more áidà. Not today, but soon.” She said with a sudden stop, hands dropping and face serious. The huntress wanted to know more than just how to punch an unresisting body.

“I want to know how to move like the you do, how to defend and attack without my bow. So many times we have been caught out Pash, and so many times you’ve run headfirst into the fray.” Her tawny eyes looked at him with concern, shaking her head. Quite unexpectedly, the words spilled from her mind into her mouth and out to the open.

“Too many times I have stood back with my heart in my throat thinking ‘no, this is it. This is the day I watch him die.’ I can’t do it again qu’ama.” Kali took a deep breath, coming closer to hold his hands tightly.

“I really can’t.” Brushing off the serious moment that had grasped her, the southerner smiled with a little shrug.

“Besides, it’s kind of fun. Maybe I can get some use out of those daggers.” She said, referring to the little push daggers she’d purchased after their return to Immortals Tongue.

As the sun continued to rise in the icy Zi’da sky, the southerner sighed, coming closer to the Biqaj and hugging him closely. As if feeling left out, Sarkis phased back, wagging his tail lazily as he leaned against the couple. For that moment in time, the stood together in the chill air, still and at peace after all the madness of Vhalar.

The Wolf, The Sea and The Muse.