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Weary Feet Find No Rest; Open
Topic Started: Mar 21 2011, 07:15 PM (1,637 Views)
Nemaisare
Muse
[ *  *  *  * ]
Small things…

Small things made big changes, sometimes…

Sir’s ears flicked constantly back and forth, twisting around and about as he listened to the voices muttering near enough for him to make out separate sounds on a few occasions. Small things, a quieter voice, a flapping hand, loose acceptance… Big changes. He was not so worried for her now, though he did pause in his own ministrations to stare at the woman as he felt the flinching of her mind. Sharp stinging things that flowered into thoughts of pinching pain. But the last time he had looked at her, she had turned away, a gesture that told him to be calm. At least, among his own. The horses were not calm though. And she was tense, he could feel it in the way her mind flashed and froze in its thinking. Same thoughts, then move on, same thoughts, and again… The Jer was not angry though, or pleased, from him, Sir felt only focus. And from the Isrhys, a nervous energy almost expended. Racing thoughts, and he caught none of them.

Sometimes, he would feel attention on him, and sometimes, the attention was on her. Sometimes, the dead wood thing came into their thoughts and other times a bigger dead wood thing with no round bits at the bottom that was surrounded by others of the same shape and height. It was difficult to read thoughts that came in something other than silver and black. And with sounds that made small sense. He did not try hard. They were not speaking to him. He had cuts to deal with, while the Jer looked after hers. For each slice that he could reach, Sir pushed away the fur with his tongue, smearing blood once and then cleaning it away again the next swipe. Many had stopped bleeding before he was finished, though the largest one on his shoulder still left a trail down his leg and his mouth was not so easily dealt with. He could not lick his tongue.

When he had finished, the Anan settled down to watch, leaning a little on his seat away from the shoulder that hurt. If he did not need to put weight on it, then he would not. His gaze was not focussed, as that would be rude, but his three eyes rarely left the small group of humans. He was listening again too, or, moreso than he had been. Tilting his head and twitching his ears around, blinking slowly. They were speaking of him again. He did not mind, just so long as they were not going to make him leave. But Isrhys had already told him he could run beside the dead wood thing. He would not have said it if it was not allowed. He did not think…

His slow attempt at understanding what they were discussing was left behind as soon as he saw her standing up, and then he stood too, swiftly stepping towards her and brushing the two males away with insistent, but not harmful, sweeps of his head, his forehead eye closed for protection. Then he crouched down near her, offering her the support of his uninjured shoulder and almost insisting upon it. She had touched him once. A strange feeling, with all the memories it awakened in him. Memories from his blood, rather than his own life. He wished for it to return, and for her to accept his choice. It was difficult, to think that he might have made the wrong one. Not because he trusted his experience, but because that would mean she did not want him.

A low whine escaped him, falling quickly into nothing as he rolled an eye towards her. -Sir for Briella.- A silver silhouette against the darkness, of him standing before her with her hand on his head. The shapes were made up of substantial mist, and his impressions of who they were. But the focus was on that touch between them. As the first Anan had been tamed once, so now he would be tamed again. If she would let him be. -Briella not want Sir?- With that simple questing came nothing more than confused sorrow, and he turned his whole head to eye her for a moment. Waiting… Her choice, he had already made his.
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Eruraina
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[ * ]
The Anan approached when she finished speaking, as if in reply. She felt thoughts being pushed into her head again, but it was more of confusion than anything. A sad kind of confusion like that of an abandoned child that didn't understand why it's mother wasn't there to hold it, wondering why it was being held by rough hands. That was the impression Briella got from the thoughts being sent from the creature as it came closer.

Then he pushed the two men away from her, as if wanting to speak privately, and for a moment she almost felt like she was in a dangerous possition trapped between the great wolf and the carriage, as it felt like it loomed over her as it made sure Jer and Rhys were away protectively. But then her crouched, it's eyes on her.

Briella closed her eyes when a flurry of thoughts came into her mind. -Sir for Briella- and -Briella not want Sir?- along with the images of her touching him, using his good shoulder as support instead of the carriage, or dead wood thing as the thoughts referred to it as. It took Briella a moment to sort it out, and straighten it. The look in it's eyes had not helped. One thing was certain, though. She knew what to call him.

-Briella not want Sir?- That thought lingered in her mind with it's confusion and sadness. It's longing. Briella reached a hand towards the furry flank, but stopped inches from it, hesitating. Sir would blindly follow her because of happenstance. Because they happened across each other. Briella had seen what blind loyalty could make a person do. Her eyes moved to the wounds. Already Sir suffered because of it, because of her. If she were to turn him away, would he still follow? Would he understand her reason to if she did? That she was trying to protect him from more pain? Did this great wolf before her even care for it's own well being?

She pulled back her hand a few inches, but again paused. She glanced over to Jer and Rhys, who watched, then up at the sun. Common sense told her that they were waisting time lingering here like this. Her eyes turned back to the Anan, and in that moment, she made her desision, though she hoped she wouldn't regret it later.

Briella didn't place her hand on Sir's shoulder. Instead, she clutched her side gently and moved around to his wounded side and kneeled to get a good look at it. She placed her hand beside the wound, examining it intently. It was still bleeding. That was obvious by the trail of red liquid running down the foreleg. Briella tenderly touched around it, testing, and once stretching the wound open a bit more to see how deep it was. It wasn't very deep. But then again, the bleeding was the worste of the worries.

"I would not have you run beside us like this. Let's at least cleanse it and stop the bleeding. Do you have a cloth I can use?" her question was directed to either of the two men. Her moment of hesitation and uncertainty had passed, and now she was sure and resolute. Then she turned back to the Anan.
"If you plan to stick around, you should take better care of yourself, and take care not to get hurt... if you understand me," she added the last bit quickly...
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Rièle
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Rhys was saddened by Briella's cold remarks, and looked away as she dismissed and debased his thoughts and suggestions. He silenced himself from offering any further ideas, sitting back to allow Jer to complete his work and listening to Briella rant. What pain and strife this woman must have endured to feel such animosity towards those who gave her aid. He felt sympathy for the Anan; though Briella scolded Rhys for suggesting they wait to heal the beast, she obviously resented his protection. Though, Rhys mused, perhaps the Anan's trust would grow on her. Perhaps he was just what she needed.

The Anan, it seemed to Rhys, was stronger than Briella gave him credit for. But Rhys was uncertain how to communicate this notion to Briella, who was firmly decided that they should attempt to tend to the Anan's wounds now. Rhys was glad beyond words when the Anan stood and approached Briella. Not only because this offered a solution to the immediate problem - Briella was able to begin examining the worst of the creature's wounds - but because Briella's closeness to the Anan might help decrease her own hostility.

Jer slowly and carefully stepped up behind Briella, and passed her the medical supplies he'd used to patch up her wound. Both Jer and Rhys were hesitant to approach the Anan as closely as Briella had, and Jer backed away with respect for the Anan's chosen protectorship of Briella. They waited while Briella tended the Anan's wound; Rhys withdrew to the carriage to make the second seat more comfortable for the wounded woman, while Jer waited patiently until Briella was ready to be helped into the carriage.
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Nemaisare
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He watched them carefully, now that he’d stepped between them and his own. And when they did nothing that seemed harmful, he yawned widely, quickly licking his lips and panting happily that they seemed to have reached an accord. Males among humans, it seemed, were more practical. But while he watched them, his attention remained on Briella, and the great wolf felt a tremor of dismay run through him as her hand rose but pulled back. She would not touch. She did not want him…

Another whine escaped him, and his tail tucked itself pitifully between his hind legs as he dropped even lower. He had done wrong? She did not want him, she would not accept him. But he had chosen her! And travel would be better done together than apart. He would still follow her, after all. She could not send him away. He did not even lift a lip to warn away the Jer when it came closer, and when Isrhys moved around to where he could not see, Sir was no longer interested in worrying about what he was doing. He was not wanted. He had made his choice too soon, and his choice did not like him. He hurt and his skin prickled and he had left dead behind when he should have eaten them, because he had chosen wrong. A waste… Ears flattening against his skull, he looked on a little longingly as she walked around him, but he made no move to stop her. He had failed already.

Yet she did not move away, merely around, and then she was beside him again. On the other side now, trapping him against the dead wood, small human that she was. A shudder ran through him at her touch, and a grating snarl, too soft to be threatening, rose from his throat. He could not stop his instincts. And instinct told him he was hurt and cornered. As surely as had there been a thirty foot wall of stone behind him and twenty men with sharp sticks before. He could not turn away from his lady, he would not leave her, but he did not like her hand so near his hurt. Only two things kept him from snapping at her. That she was his and that suddenly, the pushing away in her mind had vanished. She would not make him follow behind her.

As she spoke, he listened to nothing but the sound of her voice and the intention behind the words. And though his growl rose once or twice as she investigated the damage that had been done, he did not rise to defend himself. She did not want to hurt him. There was only certainty in her thoughts. Only hard decisions. And she wanted him safe. Finally, he settled beneath her touch, lying down beside her and letting his head drop to the ground. -Like Mother…- She reminded him of the one who’d raised him. Sharp words for sharp teeth. Cold thoughts for snarls. Caring though, and looking after him now. He snorted and eyed the man coming closer, letting his relaxed ears prove that he’d do nothing to him, so long as the man did nothing.

He could hear Isrhys beside them, he sounded too close to be around the dead wood, but he was not on this side of it. Sir raised his head again and eyed the thing warily as it moved a little, growling at it just in case it felt like moving more before Briella was ready to ride it. -Sharp, flat sticks hurt. Sir will learn better.- And, just as he’d reassured his mother that he would learn the lesson he’d just been taught, so he now reassured his lady. The flash of a sword accompanied his thought.
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Briella accepted the healing supplies Jer offered her. She dabbed away the blood with a cloth, then covered and bandaged the wound, constantly checking how well it was going on, making sure that it would stay on while the Anan ran, but wasn't tight or uncomfortable, or pinching. All the while she was aware of the fact that she was being watched. By both the men, and the beast she helped. It took some self control to keep her face flat. Briella wanted to wince at the sight of the wound, and the slight pain her own wound was causing her, but somehow she didn't.

-Like Mother- the voice rang through her head. Briella was caught off guard. Not by the voice, but by what it had said, and the images that went with it. It took her a moment to compose herself. Maybe she was being slightly motherly, or maybe that's just how Sir saw her actions, which would probably be considered cold or blunt to others. It didn't matter.

Eventually, Briella stood, a hand on her side. And unthinkingly, her other palm went and touched the Anan's neck, as a kind of support to hold her up. The fur was soft, and she could feel the great muscles underneath.

Briella leaned in close , her head almost touching the area where her hand also touched him, and she spoke. Her voice was in a low tone that she hoped only the Anan could hear.
"Don't push yourself too hard," she said simply, and leaned away, hoping Sir would understand what she meant before turning to the carriage, and with Jer's help, entered, and sat down in an empty seat. She had to adjust the sword she had slung over her back, taking it off and placing it on her lap before she could lean back and sit more comfortably...
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Nemaisare
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((Sorry that took me so goshdarned long))

Panting amusement the moment he realised his thought had startled her, Sir turned to nose the lady when she stood up, her fingers curling through the fur of his neck and sending tingling reminders that this was the one he would protect until his life ran out. She was his, and he was hers, and she had recognised that. With her touch, with her quiet, worried words and her decisive thoughts. Even with nothing more than her simple acknowledgement of his presence, she had accepted his choice. Unwittingly, perhaps, but then, Anan rarely understood what it meant to do something right without understanding. The concept, certainly, any well-meaning hound learned quickly that doing as the master asked would please them, even if they didn’t understand why the master wanted that thing done. But doing something without meaning to, coincidence, was not a reasoning Sir would ever be able to grasp. Things happened because someone made them happen.

He had followed her because she had walked through his mother’s lands. His mother had kept those lands for many a year. She had walked through them because she was being chased, and he had known of her because her blood had been spilt on earth he and his own had walked every day of their lives. A strong calling that. Strongest to him though. And then, he had chosen her completely because if he had not, the choice would have been stolen from him by the men on their horses, with their sharp, flat sticks and angry voices. And now… Now he was learning strange things about two-leggers that he had never learned before. But that was allright, because Briella was with him, and she was safe now.

A large tongue reached out once to swipe across her forehead before the effort of twisting his neck so far around became too much and he returned to staring at Jer. His lady liked him, and the man would see it in the soft glow of his three eyes, and the comfortable tilt of his ears. Which flicked back at her words and then he whined softly in agreement. But not a promise. He knew what such a thing was, but he could not give it to her now. He did not think the wooden thing would move quickly, but he might have been wrong, with horses infront of it, which it had clearly kept up with, it could very well move faster than he suspected. And he was not going to let it carry her away, no matter how fast it went. If he had to push himself, he would. But Sir did not tell his lady this. Nor did he think it in nearly so coherent a thought process. It was merely a vague worry in the back of his mind that had yet to be proven worthwhile. And it would disappear without remark should it prove unfounded.

When she moved away, helped along by the man who smelled of metal and horses, Sir rose to follow, moving around the carriage and watching as she was fed to the thing. No wonder it did not need to catch the horses! Growling, he rushed forward, surging past Jer before the man could close the door and then thrusting his head into the hollow belly of the strange beast. But… She was sitting down, and now he’d found IsRhys… His growls subsided and he whined again, confused. And not really liking having his vision of the outside world blocked by the walls of this thing. But when he pulled back, he could not see his lady. Sir did not know what to do, and it was very clear that he’d once more grown uncomfortable with this whole arrangement as his tail dipped low and his ears dropped back against his skull. His head kept twitching to the side, trying, as his eyes took in the carriage again and then Jer and once more Briella and IsRhys, to understand why they were so comfortable being eaten and how he could reassure himself, without climbing into the thing too, that they remained comfortable.
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Eruraina
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(And more then six months later, you could say this is me apologizing for disappearing and hoping that there is some way we can continue this?)

When Sir turned his head around and gave a light lick, Briella surprised herself. A smile tugged at her lips. Though it was only there for a split second before disappearing, and didn't register in her thoughts, she still couldn't believe herself. How long had it been since she had given even the slightest hint of a genuine smile? She couldn't remember. The thought only made her ever the more grim. Her life not not one that allowed her to smile anymore.

But worry for the path that lay ahead began to fill her as she entered the carriage. Things had changed very suddenly, and the futur became even more uncertain for her. The Anan would follow her, whether she willed it to or not, which forced her to no longer be able to think of just herself. She now had another. Briella sighed deeply as a hand ran along the length of her sheathed sword. The path ahead would be a long one, longer then the path behind had been.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a great head with three eyes poked through the door of the carriage and started whining before pulling out. Briella caught the worry and confusion in Sir's thoughts. The woman glanced over at Rhys, unsure of what to do. Surely they couldn't continue if Sir had to constantly stick his head in through the door, since the creature obviously didn't want Briella out of it's sight, not even for a moment...
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