Well city girl, you're about to spend the night on the ground. I suppose you can... try and get comfy. I've got the rest. Tough conditions make tough people.
He smiled as he helped her down and then immediately went about setting up camp. He had placed a parallel fire close the boat with a wall to reflect heat and had strung his cloak-tent off the side of the skip. He'd managed to add some bedding and was setting about starting the fire.
So. Question. Since we're both officers of the guard and as we've aptly demonstrated are entirely professional... you going to mind sharing the shelter with my or am I going to be stuck out here hm?
He sparked his flint again and had the start of a fire.
He was preoccupied with blowing his ember into a flame and sure enough, a flame burst into life in his hands. He placed it under the fire he'd built and fanned it, then blew it into a proper fire. He shuffled a moment, warming his hands.
If you like. We shouldn't need to much. The driftwood burns slow.
He stretched as he got up and then eyed the treeline.
Alright. Give me an hour or so. It'll be dark before that so stay by the fire and keep off the cold. You might want to be out of the woods by nightfall.
That wasn't a warning but a courtesy. He headed away from camp, the opposite direction of her.
She watched him go silently, raising her eyebrows and shaking her head when he disappeared into the trees. She turned and walked the opposite way, wondering how far he could tease him before he threw her over a table and had his way out of pure blind lust. She smirked at that and set about collecting some dry wood.
Grayell on the other hand, had his mind on many things. He wasn't entirely sure that tease was a bluff. It went something like this. The initial flirtation, the kiss on the cheek on the roof, the hugs when he'd actually gotten something right, the smiling which melted his heart a little... and then the complete suggestion that they get to the dirty. Fact was, he liked Marg too much to throw that away on some primal lust. No... she was special to him in that regard. Very different to anyone else he'd known... stunningly different. Best of all, he wasn't losing his mind over her.
But, the imminent issue with Liseth was far from removed from his mind. It troubled him... and he knew full well she wasn't being truthful with him and with his life on the line... he wondered.
As soon as he slunk into the woods and was sure he was from sight, he slipped into his wolf form and vanished onto the smaller trails, looking for a rather surprised rabbit.
It wasn't hard. Before long Margrett had a large armful of wood, and was carrying it back when she heard something.
Margrett....
She froze instantly. Slowly, her head turned, looking around for the source. She saw a flash of metallic blue in the moonlight, moving into some trees. Stopping short of throwing down the wood, she ran after it. She saw another flash, a bit of blue skin, blue hair, and her heart leapt into her mouth. She wasn't thinking rationally, just instinctively. She followed the blue until she came back to the lake. She looked out over the water, and saw a ripple. She was breathing hard, looking confused. Nothing to the left, or right, just the ripple in the water, now disappearing. She frowned, shaking her head, and followed the shoreline back to camp.
Grayell meanwhile was hunkered low under some very dense foliage. He had pawed his way forward... but the rabbit was still near it's warren. He had to wait... wait for it to drop it's guard and venture a little further away from safety. Just one hop is all he needed....
It did so, not knowing he was there. He leaped forward and caught it in his mouth, ending it quickly. He was about to turn and go back when he heard a familiar voice.
Eoihn...
There was a flash of white in the trees in front of him.
Grayell dropped the rabbit instantly. His ears pricked and with a low growl, he slipped into his human form. There was a dram of blood on his lips and he smeared it from his very serious face.
No one knew that name. No one but one man.....
Grayell's muscles screamed alive and suddenly, his breathing became very, very ragged. Eyes darted from tree to tree.... looking for one sick son of a bitch that he knew full well liked to toy with his prey.
Again, he saw the flash of white fabric through the trees, always just ahead of him as he ran, leading him on....until he broke through the trees at the edge of the lake. He saw nothing...but a ripple in the water.
Grayell stood there, heaving. His body was on fire... it couldn't be her. She was long gone, more than a hundred years in the past. It had been a long time since such memories taunted him, since such ghosts toyed with his mind. A long time. He'd thought them put to rest... buried under the hate he had for one man.
But Verick would have done something more. No.... this was just his head. He looked down the beach to see if he was in view of camp.