It was early morning, the dew was still upon the grass and the town had barely begun to stir as the sun started to warm the dusty roads.
Grayell had been up all night however and was now at the North gate and seeing to some horses. He had a long journey ahead of him - and he was bringing Zaedus along. His wolf was getting the better of him at this time and without the compassion of another well, he had to take immediate actions to remedy the balance... or remove it.
So many things factored into the dilemma, his health, his hunger, his stress, his relationships and of course, his past. Without something closer to balance, he could not win the battle. He was armed though, he had spent seasons with the Garou and knew of their teachings. Those teachings failed him now though and so, he would return to them. They would either see him healed or see him dead - and that mattered little at this time. Grayell liked to enjoy life. Without that he had nothing. But... enjoying it was becoming almost impossible.
He sighed and only muttered to himself as he loaded the horse which of course, only worried it. He lashed down the last of his load and took it by the reign, then pressed his forehead to it, stroking it's neck. It was in such actions he knew peace... and the horse settled.
Zaedus would not be about for another couple of hours or so. But Grayell.... well he was running out of time.
She pulled the hood off her head, wiped her face with the back of her hands and glared at the sun through gritty sleepless eyes. Anyone close by might have heard the curse or not. Her stomach was angry though, and made a point of reminding her. She reluctantly got to her feet.
A few weeks that was all, she'd been traveling with a local mercenary company. Okay, so maybe travel wasn't the right word. She'd followed them in to town. She was a long way from home. It certainly didn't pay to be unaware here, either.
Still. She needed a job, if only to feed her angry belly.[/size][/i]
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Grayell noticed a woman by the stables... looking like she'd just woken up. Strange. He studied her for a moment, his face cloaked in the dull morning light. But something caught his eye.
The blade. He'd just procured a Katana himself, it had been many years since he'd had one and it felt good. It was a gorgeous piece and cost him nothing short of a fortune... but hers was different. No, she'd earned that blade. An unusual person to come upon perhaps, given his just becoming acquainted with Tallia recently. Grayell hadn't been to the east in a long time. Now it seemed it was coming to him.
He turned his head pack to the packs on the horse, checking and rechecking supplies, making sure they were secure. He shot another look... she was quite pretty for someone having slept outdoors... and the thought made him smile. Just a hair. He didn't face her though, eyes on his work.
She spun on one foot, not nearly awake enough to see past her shadow.
Hello. Is the sun always this bright?
She sounded grumpy, irritated, and maybe just an little unnerved around the edges. No one had been able to catch her unaware in quite some time. Bad form, Kiko, you don't know anyone. Be nice to the... man. A smile appeared and she forced the grumpiness back down into the dark corner of her brain.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Grayell rested a hand on the horse as he turned enough to look up at the sun... and nodded. He was in a somber mood, things were changing and so was he. But as the almost reluctant Commander of the Town Guard, he liked to keep tabs on everyone in and out of town - and tried at all times to at least start things off on the right foot.
That blade caught his eye again though and had him curious. Very curious. Her garb was also definitely eastern, her hair and her skin... she certainly wasn't from around here. Hardly dressed for the weather either it seemed.
He pulled back his cowl and his hair spilled, a shock of white tied off in a mock top knot. He had a new beard though, he'd quite taken a liking to it after it grew in during his being unconscious. His hair was as wild as it had ever been though, strange that he had shaved his jaw and cheeks to just have a tuft of beard upon his chin.
Blue eyes regarded her silently, analyzing. He didn't show anything with emotion though, he was almost wary of the stranger. Tallia had mentioned that she might expect trouble from her home at some stage... could this woman be here for that reason? She didn't look like a pushover... but she didn't look like a whore and THAT almost made a pleasant change of pace from the regular traffic through town.
His voice had healed at least and he spoke almost quietly, a calm illusion that hid too many thoughts and too much stress.
It tends to be. It will only get brighter as the day pushes on. You're knew in town. You might have slept at the tavern, I wager the beds are more comfortable than the ground.
She took the small amount of time before his nodded reply to study him. He seemed calm enough and the animal certainly wasn't kicking up a fuss. The smile widened. She never could abide anyone that mistreated their mount. Another longer look showed competency and confidence, at least in the motions. She wasn't at all sure about his face or eyes.
She had to smother a desire to laugh at the hair, though. She might have just woke up, but his was certainly in worse shape. The topknot, however, that was so very familiar. He'd have been right at home in her father's company.
The beds might be more comfortable. The company that wanted to share one was not. I think I prefer the ground.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Grayell only nodded, again silently. He finished tying down the last of his load and patted the horse before stepping away from the animal. His hands rested on his hips and he walked wide, a lazy arc to lean on a fence before he looked at her again. He folded his arms. His eyes were narrow, his head slightly tilted.
Hmph. A pretty lady like shouldn't be sleeping outdoors. Not in this town.
He smiled again, but there was little heart behind it. It seemed nothing but a courtesy. He looked at her blade once more.
She lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug, but her mind was racing across the new landscape he represented.
You could call it that. People have paid me to work for them before.
She was waking up quickly and her posture changed from the slouching shoulders of the barely coherent to the straightened back look of a person who knew their way among those tutored in martial arts. The sword helped. It gleamed at her hip, just barely peeking out now.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
Grayell smiled a little wider now. His hand shifted to his scabbard and rocked his own blade forward... just enough. She'd recognize the style from the handle alone. He sighed softly, breathed through his nose and looked over his shoulder to the road.
Ronin. Selling honor. Can't say I haven't been there.
His eyes locked on hers after those words and now his grin took on a different demeanor. He was prying, but not unsettling. Grayell's energy only ever communicated one thing at all times - his complete lack of desire to deceive anyone if not necessary. Ask a question, get an answer. He didn't hold other people to those standards though... and whilst she undoubtedly had her own past well, he never knew anyone from the east to be entirely bashful. Save Tallia.
The shift in posture was interesting. He'd yet to see her walk... something he often used to judge someone's martial ability. But her immediate shift to a ready yet relaxed way of holding herself made him smile a little more. There was some warmth in it, but unsure of her intent he wasn't going to come across entirely friendly.
If you're avoided the tavern then I'll assume you're hungry.
A grimace twisted her lips up, but it was gone quickly. Fair enough, she had no master these days. Then he pulled the sword and her eyes flashed. A flood of memories exploded behind them.
They rolled out from her mind to fill the world in front of her. Her father presenting her brother the very sword buckled at her hip. The whole village in attendance for the ceremony. The sounds were thick in her ears, the clatter of a hundred other weapons, the thunder that crashed down upon the buildings as if in homage. Then the rain. Ceaseless.
She lifted a hand to brush back the strands of dark hair. A habitual gesture, meant as much to ward off the past as it was to clear her eyes.
Grayell nodded in response. He studied her still as he approached the horse and a hand reached up to unclasp his cloak. He pulled it away, a flutter in the morning air and laid it across his saddle. His armor was light and functional, built to not restrict movement. His own posture was somewhat relaxed... but his abdomen was controlled and tight, his shoulders ever so gently rolled forward. His steps led with a natural calculated grace, hips tight. Perhaps no one in Wistvale knew the intricate body gestures of a trained fighter of eastern origins, but she likely would.
Grayell was gambling on that. Should she only have malicious intent in Wistvale, his own body language might give her pause... or provoke her to act now, where he could deal with her. He turned his back, deliberately in fact and reached into a pouch. His blade, slung to be drawn from his back and past the hip was simple and yet elegant. It had seen no combat as yet, but it was a master's work of few peers.
It's not much. I would ask you join me in the tavern but the hour is early and I await a friend.
He tossed her a parcel. It was but one ration and he could thrive on the land at any rate. Some dry bread, a little jerked meat, some dried fruit. He then removed a water skin and approached her. Cautiously, he stopped but three feet from her, one foot closer than the other. His shoulders were almost side on as he handed her the water.
It's not much, but meets it's purpose. Please. On me.
Her eyes followed his motions. It was impossible not to, especially here in this place; far away from anything she used to know. Ghosts, so many ghosts this morning. But, instead of haunting they drew a smile one that reached her eyes. She could almost see him in the training ring. Stop, Kiko. sentimental, you are much too sentimental today. She'd love to see him swing that blade or hear it's voice as it came through the air. Test the arm holding it.
The parcel was caught, one out thrust hand managed that simply enough. She didn't glance at it, the smell was enough to identify something edible, and her eyes were still on him.
I'd ask why, but, I don't think I'm going to question it. A moment though, if you don't mind me asking. Where are you headed?
Grayell folded his arms again, but smiled with sincerity as she did the same. He looked at her for a moment, a contemplative gaze, seems he saw something that encouraged that smile. He then closed his eyes slowly and opened to gaze at the road again. He walked back to the fence and leaned upon it, side on with her now.
I have business there. I could use some muscle though. Perhaps... you can eat and we can discuss a fee.
He didn't look back, it was a simple enough question. He needed a third and they certainly had a horse. Supplies he could manage. But... perhaps he wasn't entirely content leaving town when a stranger had just arrived. She was sure to cause a stir. Paying her to accompany him... well that could be interesting.
She returned the waterskin stepping forward with the grace born of hours upon hours of footwork. She didn't even think about it; toe, heel, toe, heel, it had been drilled into her since she could walk. A quick gesture wiped the liquid from her mouth, her gaze turning to the north. The food had even been forgotten when her stomach growled, loudly. A flush run across her features before she recovered enough to look at him again.
Heh. Right, eat. I've been ignoring that for too long it seems. Extra muscle, hm?
This was right up her alley. Hell, maybe the gods had decided to lend a hand. Stranger things had been known to happen, and that mercenary company was very opportune.
Eternity
“Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.”
The fairly chill morning breeze felt comforting to Zaedus as he walked the city streets, the thoughts of his tundra homeland filling his mind. He had his hood drawn over his head making the Worgen more sinister appearing to those who did not recognize him. He could see the northern gate ahead and headed in that particular direction. He approached the stables near the gate figuring Grayell might be there. He finally spotted his target and walked closer seeing he was speaking with another.