Wind Stalking

[Avalore Eden]

"That is fair," she replied with a short chuckle, watching him, "there are many things about you that I do not understand."

She grinned, "but I do not have to understand everything to know that you are a good person and that I enjoy your company."

There was clearly more at work here concerning her station as Windtalker, but either she wasn't telling or she didn't know herself. The truth of the matter was a little bit of both, but how could she expect an offworlder to comprehend the intricacies of their religions and beliefs?

"You are the first to travel with me that will speak to me plainly. I know more about you than any other I have journeyed with."

 

[Avalore Eden]

Sarge:
He shook his head. "I'm hardly a good person, Ysan, but the sentiment is appreciated." Sighing a bit, he turned towards her and leaned down to plant the barest of kisses on her lips - truthfully, he wasn't sure why. Perhaps just so that she'd know what it was like, he wasn't sure.

Likely, he'd never quite be sure. But he almost regretted it the moment he did it.

Shoulders slumping, he rests back and closes his eyes. "There's plenty about me you'll never know, and I'd have it no other way."

 

[Avalore Eden]

She wanted to say something about the perspective of good and the weights of ones actions against the weight of their intentions but it did not come out in time. Ysan felt a compelling warmth that was neither entirely physical nor spiritual spread throughout her in that fleeting moment of contact. For the slightest of moments she experienced complete acceptance by another, or so she thought. Something she'd never really had in her short life.

A calm gaze watched the man as he lay back again, her silence defeating the desire to thank him for that small treasure. Laying back then she breathed another deep sigh, glancing shortly over at him as he spoke. "Then I will continue to believe you are a good person, One Known as Sarge, until the day I know otherwise," she smiled and rolled to her side, back facing him and hair falling aside the star burst birthmark normally covered by her armor now just visible in a streak of moonlight.

 

[Avalore Eden]

Sarge:
The man gave a faint smile, opening an eye as she turned away. "That's a good way to live, friend.", he whispers, closing his eyes again and counting the time between rumbles of thunder on the horizon. Exhaling slowly, he turned and draped an arm over her waist, curling himself up behind her so they could share their warmth with each other.

Besides, he enjoyed the intimacy.

 

[Avalore Eden]

The Windtalker's breath caught in her throat as she felt the arm snare her middle. For a short moment she remain utterly still, contemplating her vulnerability. Warm breath on her shoulder and the steady thrumming of his heart against her back helped to assuage that worry, and soon it was overcome by a sense of security. Releasing her breath at last in a slow exhale, Ysan closed her eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

She awoke several hours later to the rumbling of the floor beneath her and the sound of rancor calls above their heads. Eyes instantly wide, Ysan attempted to sit up only to feel herself held back by that same arm and was reminded that she was not alone. The Witch made no effort to wrench away, but instead held herself up by one elbow enough to clear the sleep from her mind and get her wits about her.

The rumbling continued in a constant, feeling very much like an earthquake, and drove dust and debris from the roof of soil and roots over their heads. It was still raining, but she could no longer hear thunder over the cacophony. The barest trace of faint light drove in through the skylight, hardly enough to see whether or not Sarge was awake.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Eyes closing as she settled in before him, Sarge found himself fading off to sleep almost instantly as exhaustion he'd not realized he'd felt set in. Still, it felt like he'd barely gotten his eyes closed before Ysan was stirring in front of him, propping herself up and shifting his arm just enough to rouse him from slumber.

A part of him, the physical part, wanted to plant kisses down the back of her neck - it was a sensation he often had a hard time ignoring when close to women. He'd not always been that way, and frankly, on some level, he was ashamed of himself for often finding himself having this train of thought.

As a self-critical individual who prided himself on a more conservative approach to love and women, he often mentally berated himself in moments like this... but her curiosity told him this wasn't exactly a normal day of storms. "What's wrong.", he grunts quietly, not really wanting to move.

Objects at rest tended to stay at rest, after all.

 

[Avalore Eden]

"Rancors,"

She glanced back at him briefly, perfectly ignorant to the thoughts muddling his sleep-deprived mind. Her eyes turned back towards the ceiling, blinking back the dust after a chorus of jarring trembles directly overhead set the cavern quaking.

"they should not be here. This is not one of their paths."

That sense of vulnerability returned to her but for entirely new reasons. Her armor, her bow, her supplies - all of it was still back at her campsite. Or at least it might be. Rancors forging new migration paths were horribly destructive. Their massive forms easily tore up ancient trees and the Windtalker silently said a prayer to the Mother for keeping them hidden as they were.

Ysan shifted beneath his arm to face her travel companion, concern etched across the shadows of her face, "I must retrieve my things."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

As she rotated beneath his arm to face him, the man blinked sleep away from tired brown eyes, raspy voice weighted down by the lingering effects of oblivion that clung like stubborn moss to its tone. "Don't.", he grumbles, closing his eyes again. "I'm comfortable, and they're rancors."

Witches were famous for having tamed Rancors, but much like with any wild animal, you either needed a strong Force connection to tame one or you had to get one young and raise it to be such. "Your stuff will be fine, or it can be replaced. Do not endanger yourself unnecessarily."

Frankly, he really just didn't want to be out of an incredibly comfortable position.

He deeply enjoyed his sleep.

 

[Avalore Eden]

Ysan drew a long, thin breath through her nostrils, her lips having gone thin with worry. She gave him a deep frown, eyes darting from one place to another, following the tremors of the walkers above.

True enough her bow could be replaced and many of her things remade and found again, but there were two pieces out there that couldn't. Her armor, for one, was carved from Rancor bone. And not just any Rancor bone, but the fallen Rancor of a Clan Mother. It had been made and gifted to Ysan for her services in trying to save the creature, but against all odds and the will of Dathomir.

The second piece was a parcel she was responsible for delivering to the clans of the far south jungles. Crystals. Very important crystals.

The matter of her worth against them was something she found herself pondering. It lead to a dark trail of thoughts that she was not happy to follow and so she stayed her instincts and trusted his words of assurance. "I hope you are right." Laying back, she continued watching the ceiling with wide, alert eyes, one hand blocking her face from falling debris while the other idly laced around the arm at her middle.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

He hoped he was too, because as the ground shook and dirt drifted down from above, he found himself questioning whether or not she should have actually gone to get the things. But, if Sarge knew one thing, it was that if it was a herd of Rancor... even he'd be hardpressed to escape notice.

Attempting to move quietly wouldn't be a problem, but the constant vibrations would threaten to knock him over at any turn and that? Well, that would expose him (or her) and put them in danger... and for a bow and armor.

Knowing about the actual armor itself and the package weren't things he could know, but he did know he didn't want to be on the wrong side of a beasts foot... or claw... or jaw.

Slowly, he exhaled as the rumbling continued. "May as well settle in an relax." A sharp snap from nearby heralded the pulling of a tree out by its roots, and silently he prayed they'd not find theirs hidey-hole.

 

[Avalore Eden]

A cringe flashed across Ysan's face at the sound of rending arbre.

"I cannot," she frowned, mind wandering along the sounds of destructive migration above, "I am sorry."

Curious how a peaceful movement of giant beasts could sound like a battle ground. Surely Sarge was accustomed to such things, but war was not a front she was allowed to experience.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"Yes, you can.", he says with a bit of a sniff, as he settled himself back in to rest. Arm still draped lazily over her midsection, he smirked faintly at the knowledge that she'd probably never had to sleep beneath the cover of an artillery barrage. Frankly, it had taken him a long, long time to become accustomed to such things, himself.

For that, he couldn't blame her - even if he wanted to. "You'll get used to it eventually. Everyone gets used to war eventually." And truthfully, that's what this sounded and felt like.

He could practically hear the rumble of repulsor tanks as they sped towards the front lines, the ear-splitting whine of fighters as they broke the sound barrier en route to a strafing run. All things she'd never known and probably never would. In a way, he envied her that. But he'd chosen this life, in a manner of speaking, so there was that.

 

[Avalore Eden]

She might've made the comment that there shouldn't ever be a need for growing accustomed to war, but Ysan was far too concerned with the discord above. Try as she might, there was simply no ignoring it or the tight knot of anxiety forming in the pit of her stomach.

Sarge might find sleep again but Ysan did not. She lay awake beside him, mind spinning, eyes straining against the darkness and ears keen on hearing the end of the thunderous footfalls. It wasn't for another few hours that any semblance of peace settled on the landscape above them. The rumblings of the rancors still echoing in the distance Ysan slowly sat up and pulled from his arm to move silently to the drop entrance where she pulled herself up and, tentatively, pushed open the hatch.

Pale morning light greeted her openly, immediately uncovering the vast devastation left in the wake of the traveling beasts. It was not a horrific sight to behold - not like viewing a city crumbled by battle, but it was certainly cause of deep worry. The Rancors had cleared a pathway through the thick of the jungle nearly one hundred feet wide. Several paths, she found as she hoisted herself up out of the ground. The carnage was widespread: ancient trees lay strewn and splintered, undergrowth flattened into mud. A dead carcass here and there of some unsuspecting meal. It was a scar that the land would not quickly heal. Likely as such, it never would. Ysan knew the nature of rancors, and they were creatures of habit - this would become a permanent trail.

The Windtalker took a deep breath, glanced down at the opening by her feet and knew she would never be able to return. It simply wouldn't be safe anymore.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

He wasn't asleep long as once more he was roused by her moving his arm - this time, off entirely. As she was the local, if she felt good enough to get up and move, then that meant he wasn't afforded any more time to sleep. Standing and looking around for his cloak and gear, he begins to process of getting himself regeared.

With that, he stands behind her as she checks the landscape, the almost painful silence above telling him what he wanted to know. Slowly, he followed her out and looked around, shrugging mentally.

Nature was typically destroyed by nature; there was nothing anyone could do about that.

"We should probably go check on your things..."

 

[Avalore Eden]

She heard his voice but her attention lingered on the new pathway carved through the jungle. Something must have happened to change their course - this was a large group, which made it all the more strange for them to have veered from traditional routes. Despite her worry she could not help but wonder why and decided that once she ascertained the fate of her belongings she would find out. The Local clans would need to know as well, for the Rancors were an important part of their lives. Any change this major needed to be reported.

Nodding, Ysan stepped down along a ledge of boulders and roots now exposed by the migration, and reveled as she reached the trail below at how close they had really come to being discovered. One giant stone lay between them and the beasts.

Picking her way across the landscape, she nimbly climbed along downed trees and upturned roots. Reaching the location of her campsite she frowned to find it had all been smashed and washed away in the storm. Hazel eyes searched through the remaining foliage for any sign of her treasures and without a word she stepped down from the trunk to wade through the litter of branches and dirt.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Raising a brow as she said nothing, he followed after her, picking his way through massive footprints and mud as he shadowed the Windtalker on her way towards the campsite. Sure enough, things were torn apart, destroyed and otherwise mangled. Sighing, and silently glad he kept her from coming out here, he began digging around himself.

With no idea what he was looking for, he managed to find part of her bow and simply discarded it. A broken bow wasn't going to do anyone any good. "Besides your armor, what else are we looking for...?" Bending down, he slips his hands under a large, half-broken trunk and gets himself some leverage.

Grunting, he flexes his legs and rolls it away from it's resting position to see if it was atop anything. Sadly, all he found was vacant dirt.

 

[Avalore Eden]

"Crystals," she replied, pulling apart a pile of branches and debris, "they're in a leather satchel. I was transporting them to the southern Jungle Clan for their upcoming Spellweaver Ceremony. I-" her fingers fell across the smooth finish of suede saturated by muck. Giving a tug, Ysan pulled from beneath a heavy branch her larger shoulderbag, "they were in here!" Sloughing off the mud Ysan turned the bag over and instantly wilted. The cover flap was torn wide open and aside from some things left in the bottom the satchel containing the crystals was nowhere to be seen.

Tossing it aside she continued to pull away debris, clearing off muddied leaves and branches until she felt something sharp against her palm scrape against stone.

There sat a crystal shard, glinting in the morning light. Pulling one last branch away she found the leather bag and picked it up, pouring out the contents of pulverized stones. A few remained intact, but at least one of them was cracked. The Windtalker's expression sank as she carefully picked up them up, "No."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

As he began digging around some more, he found something that looked vaguely familiar hiding within the muck. Shoving a hand down and into the goop, he pulled back up a bone-shoulder pad and gave it a curious look. "Pauldron.", he says absently before she refutes him with a 'no'.

He was pretty sure he knew a pauldron when he saw one. Having not heard her exclamation due to being engrossed in the task at hand, he turned towards her only to find her staring forlornly at what he imagined was her goal.

"Oh...", was about all that he managed to say as he realized all of her hopes had just been dashed.

 

[Avalore Eden]

Crestfallen, Ysan placed the remaining crystals in the leather satchel, drew the cord and tied it to her hip. She could not help the thoughts in her mind chastising her decision to leave everything behind. If she had just stayed in her tree she would have seen the rancors coming. She could have collected everything and moved to higher, safer ground. Now she was left with the remains of this disaster to explain to the Clan Mother.

First she would find the source of all the devastation around her.

Taking a shallow breath, Ysan slowly lifted herself from the muck, giving no care to the slop that coated her skin and turned to Sarge. Her eyes settled on the pauldron in his hand before looking around, at a loss for where else to look. It was pointless to waste anymore time searching for armor when there were more important things to tend to.

"Leave it," the words were harder to say than she thought. That armor was like a second skin to her and hurt to know it was lost, "may the bones rest in ceremony to new paths forged by her kind. It is only right they remain here."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

The man nodded and simply dropped the bone piece at her command. A snapped command did little to offput him, as he knew what she had to have been thinking. She was in the funk he usually was when he thought himself to have failed at something. "Let's get going, then. Shouldn't have too far to travel, I don't think.", he murmurs.

She could lead the way, however, as he didn't want to show up leading her on her journey. Something told him that the locals wouldn't take too kindly to a man leading a woman.