Private Tales On The Hunt

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"Perhaps better than it is now," a huff and a grim smile behind his ear. "No but I consider the man and woman who raised me to be my family. They were kind even though I was very different from them." They'd been elves. And most folk on the island were at least half elves. Isla didn't think she had any elf in her but she couldn't be sure.

"Different from all the town's folk." Lips pressed thin.

She chose not to tell him about the promised marriage she ran away from. And the whole reason she left the island and found herself in the very mess she was currently in.

"How did you end up doing...this for a living?"
 
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"I understand." He did in a way, though his own life had not seen such hardships. Instead he had been pushed away for other reasons.

Her next question was a more difficult one.

Lips thinned for a brief few seconds and he forced a breath into his lungs. A part of him wanted to lie, but...that wouldn't have accomplished what he wanted. He wanted to make her trust him, to believe he would do as he'd said.

"I'm an exile." He said softly. "Near a decade ago I accidentally killed a man in a rite of passage my people must go through."

Myr sounded pained. "I was forced to leave, and my skills just...happened to fall here."
 
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"Nearly killed a man," she whispered, teeth gnawing on the inside of her own cheek.

She wouldn't forget the merchant's face. He'd been so full of self-righteous rage. Malice. And then surprise. A sneer and surprise. Followed by nothing as his life left him.

She shivered against Myr.

"Do we have to go to Alliria?" Her voice was a whisper. She hated cities. She felt so powerless in them. They were so crowded. And she didn't see how her name would be cleared.
 
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He stopped for a second as she asked her question, eyes closing. "I believe you."

Myr did not know why.

There was really no logical explanation for it, no reason why he should have believed her, but...he did. There was an earnestness to her that made his heart ache. He did not think she would have lashed out in murder, and self-defense was...reasonable.

"But..." He chewed the inside of his lip. "I do not think they will stop coming for you."

Myr said quietly. "Unless you prove your innocence."

He did not deny her though. He did not say yes.

Perhaps he could be convinced still.
 
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She was quiet for awhile.

If they went to Alliria, she'd die. How would she prove her innocence? It was her word against the man she'd killed in self-defense. Who would they believe? Certainly not some no-name girl.

Should she tell him about how the merchant wanted to use her? How he'd knew what she was?

She wasn't sure.

Lips pursed together and she remained silent.
 
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Myrdin didn't say anything, mostly because he had absolutely no idea what else to say. It was obvious she didn't want to go to Alliria, and in truth Myr didn't really want to take her there.

Yet he did not see any other option.

The onus was on her to tell the truth, to make it clear that Alliria simply was not an option. In that moment, at least for the sea-Elf, it truly appeared to be the only choice that she had. At least for him. What else was she going to do?

Run for the rest of her life?

That hardly seemed a good choice.

So Myr trekked on in silence, walking and taking his pace through the jungles as it slowly began to rain.
 
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Trees were protecting them somewhat from the rain. But not that much. She could already feeling her hair getting drenched and her clothes beneath. But Isla didn't mind. She liked the cool feeling it brought. And clinging to Myr provided a surprising amount of warmth.

And there was something about the water. She felt a tingling sensation along her ankle and an exhale of energy. The water was soothing. Almost healing.

A frown tugged at her lips.

"They'll never believe me," she commented again, behind Myr.

"There was something...that the merchant wanted me for. It's like he sought me out because...," voice trailed off. "It's a strange story and I don't want you to laugh at me."

Would he believe her if she told it?
 
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He stopped for a second, half turning his head. "I've heard my fair share of strange stories, lass."

Well that was certainly true wasn't it?

While hunting he had encountered everything from tribesman to Elves of a different sort. All of them had their own tales and all of them enjoyed a good story now and again. "Tell me."

He told her.

"I will listen." She had been honest before, though apparently let out details. "I can do that much."

Myr said as he waited.
 
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She eyes him closely, greens catching the edges of his own as he half turned his head toward her. A hand came up to wipe the dripping water from her face, wet hair plastered against her cheek and the back of her neck.

"Okay," she breathed.

She believed him.

"Well, somehow he knew what I was." Not who mind you. "Half dryad," she slowly admitted to the elf. "He was raving mad and kept going on and on about some ritual he was going to use me for. My blood and maybe my spirit." Even though she wasn't cold, a shiver ran down her spine. "He kept saying he wanted to raise a greater demon."

Definitely a psycho path.

And somehow he thought Isla was the key.
 
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Myr frowned. "I see."

He did not know much about magic, in truth he knew next to nothing. His own abilities could stop it, could even burn it free of a person, but that didn't really mean Myr knew what was actually happening to him when he did it.

"Was this the Councilor?" Myr asked. "Or his son?"

He supposed it didn't really matter in the end.

If what she said was true, then the killing had been even more justified. Yet if he carried her back...she would still be in the same mortal danger as before.

The fact that she was half-Dryad though? That wasn't surprising.
 
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Arms shifted on his shoulders. She could feel the rain soaking into his clothes as well. At least it would help to cover some of their tracks. It was a warm rain, not cold.

She frowned as water dripped down her lips.

"They were both there," voice had to raise slightly, to be heard above the pinging of water on jungle leaves and undergrowth. Fingers dug into his shirt as she remembered. "The younger one offered me a ride in his wagon. The older was waiting inside. They knocked me out."

Voice lowered in a mixture of fear and anger.

"When I awoke, they were starting to put iron shackles on me. Gloating about being able to take over the city once the demon was awoken. They were insane." Lower lip trembled and her head dropped, letting her face bury into the back of his wet shoulder for a minute.

The greed of men.

"I just didn't know people could.... Gods, I was so naive."
 
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Myr did not have a hard time believing it, and as she continued to speak his fingers tightened gently on her thighs.

The Greed of Man was something he had experienced more than once in his life. Someone trying to double cross him, someone trying to withhold payment. More than once had both happened, and more than once had he come out on top.

Was it hard to believe the Councilor would do such a thing? No.

What was he to do about it though? Was he supposed to run away with her? Take her back to Minaris? His lips thinned.

"I believe you." Myr said softly.

Perhaps in that moment they were the words she would need to hear. They were the truth, for he did not doubt her, but Myr was at a loss for what the next step would be.
 
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"I wish it was enough," she muttered more so to herself. Her grip around him eased. The rain wasn't letting up. She was soaked.

"You don't have to do this. You don't owe me anything. You can still walk away."

He had a chance to go back to his normal life. Not get mixed in this storm of wrong places and wrong times.

"In fact," she huffed quietly. "You should walk away."
 
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"Probably." Myr said in agreement, though he did not move to drop her or even take another step.

In truth, she really was right. There was no real advantage to helping here, there was no real benefit to him sticking around and helping her. Yet the words of his father rang in his ears. He could no more abandon Isla than he could abandon himself.

His father had hated him, despised him from birth.

Yet the values he had spoken of were still within his heart regardless. Lips thinned, and he took slow breaths as a decision rolled through his head. "But I won't."

Myr kept walking.
 
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She was surprised.

One, that he so earnestly believed her. If she hadn't lived through that hell of a night mare encounter, she might not have even believed herself. Two, that he still wanted to be in this with her. Then again, he could still be going for the coin.

But deep down, Isla didn't think that was true.

Was she lucky that he'd been the first hunter to find her?

Teeth gnawed on the inside of her cheek again, water running down olive skin. The sound of the constant rain filled the space between them. His steady footsteps. The day continued on. And she didn't know what else to say. Have anything else to say. She was still processing what had happened to her. Still processing about Myr and his intentions.

It was a few hours later as the rain was finally lightening up that she asked.

"Do you need to stop and rest?"
 
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"I think so." Myr said, though he did not stop. "I saw a cliff side through the canopy a little while ago, should be a good place to stay for the night."

Though the rain was slowing down, their clothes were soaked and they would need to let them dry.

In this place gangrene and the like could set in easily, and although he did not know much about dryad anatomy he assumed that whatever side of her was human would likely have many of the same medical conditions as he did.

"Nearly there." Myr said as he continued on.

Another hour or so passed, and then the cliff that he had spoken of appeared. It was large, though not insurmountable. At it's base was an overhang and a small stream that seemed to flow down the rock itself in a small waterfall into a basin below.
 
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"It's beautiful," she breathed, her skin seeming to brighten. For as frazzled as she was. As tired. As defeated. As scared. As unsure - being surrounded in these wilds and being so close to the earth and nature, it had a way of rejuvenating her. Had to thank the half-dryad for that.

She still wondered how she'd ended up on that island but that was a problem to solve for another time.

When he stopped, she slowly unwound her arms from around him and let her feet gingerly hit the wet grass and dirt once more. A hand slid down his bicep for a moment longer of balance as she teetered with uncertainty.
 
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His hand touched the small of her back in steadying gesture. "Are you alright?"

The Hunter asked.

Myr still did not entirely understand just what she was, or rather...how she worked. Half-Dryad was not something he entirely knew much of anything about. Did she even need food? Could she use photosynthesis to feed herself?

It was sort of a mystery to him.

"I could start us a fire." Myr offered. "It will be cold tonight, and I think it would be best if we warmed our clothes."

Especially considering that he was soaked through.
 
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She nodded quickly. Bright green eyes traveled to his own as she gently flexed her ankle. Fingers came up to tuck wet strands of bright red behind one ear.

"It feels...better. Almost healed," surprise filtered through her tone.

Was it from the rain? Part of her magic? A combination?

She frowned. Things were still so new to her. And here she was with someone she'd just met experiencing them right along with her. A big part of her was...embarrassed.

He probably thought her so naive.

"That's a good idea." She walked slowly to the overhang and sat on the dryer ground - out of the rain. Knees drew up to her chest as her clothes stuck to her like cement. She needed to rest a little and then perhaps forage for some food.

She was hungry.
 
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It took some time to find dry wood. The rain had been bad, worse than he would have thought for this time of year. It was only under patches of grass and hidden shrubbery that he managed to find anything actually dry enough for a fire.

He gathered some of the wet stuff too, though most for when the fire was already going.

It took nearly another thirty minutes, but eventually beneath the cliffside overhang the fire roared into life. The heat of it washed over Myr in almost an instant, a pleasant sensation against the coldness of his clothes.

Without any hesitation Myr stripped off his shirt, revealing scared muscle and sinew as well as more of those strange blotches all over his flesh. He hung the tunic besides the flame, doing the same with his boots and socks.

"I'll look away." Myr told Isla. "But I suggest you do the same."
 
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Fingers massaged her ankle. Between him carrying her and whatever the hell had happened with the water and the forest magic had made it much better. Chin tilted up in surprise. Couldn't hide her gaze flickering across his bare chest and those marks.

The scars of a book written across his flesh.

Lips pursed.

She had no qualms or problems with going natural. The problem was, she'd been taught at an early age that other folk thought that inappropriate. The elves and half elves of her village were not prepared to see the young girl continuing to traipse and dance around naked through their gardens.

She stood, still testing her ankle.

Fingers came down to the hem of her shirt and she peeled it over her head. Wet locks of red hair rested over her chest, providing a small barrier of comfort perhaps to Myr. If he did looked, he'd see a tattoo that wrapped and traveled up her body of vines and flowers, up along the right side of her ribs, a tendril disappearing beneath the curve of one breast and red hair. The other end disappeared beneath the hem of her pants, wrapping down the curve of her thigh and stopped just above her ankle.

She began tugging her pants off next, hand bracing against the stone wall behind her.

She would not be completely nude with them off. And they needed to dry as well. And perhaps Myr would note how comfortable she was as she walked next to him to hang up the dripping fabric near the fire.

"I think I'll go look for some food."
 
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Myr did not look away.

Modesty was not really something taught on the ships. There wasn't really much room for prudishness in the hulls, and when she did not direct him to look away the Sea-Elf simply didn't.

He of course did not stare at her lecherously, he had more moral standing than that. Instead he simply looked at the fire, catching only a glance as she stripped herself down behind it.

A quiet whistle echoed in his mind, but he made no actual noise.

That would probably have been a little too much. "Alright."

He told her carefully, frowning for a moment as he glanced towards her as she began to walk towards the woods. He caught the sashay of her hips, and then cleared his throat.

"Don't get caught in another net." Myr said. "And scream if you do."
 
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She paused and looked over her shoulder, her profile prominent in the light rain that had turned closer to something like misting.

"Very funny," she said dryly and flipped a strand of red hair over her shoulder as he got to see the swing of her hips a few more times before she disappeared into the surrounding undergrowth. Bare feet padded along the jungle floor, she eventually turned back toward the small little stream that lead back toward their temporary campsite. Couldn't see it from where she was, though.

There was a fruit tree nearby. She knew they were safe to eat but she wasn't sure what kind. And how she knew? It was that same gut instinct. The ring of nature around her recognizing one of their own. That body tattoo that wrapped around her profile and figure seemed to glow and brighten along her skin. Plucking a few fruits, she made her way back toward camp, also gathering some mint and chives. Arms carefully cradled her bundle of food against her stomach.

"No nets but I found plenty if you want some. How are our clothes?"
 
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"Mostly dry." Myr had been tending the fire carefully while Isla had been gone. He had shifted their clothes a few time, ensuring that they caught the heat but never placing them close enough that they would burst into flame.

He glanced at the bounty of fruit that she had brought.

In truth he had been hoping for meat of some sort, but...he supposed with her odd connection to nature that had been rather unlikely. He glanced at the fire for a moment and pictured roast rabbit before turning back towards her.

"I would like some." He answered finally. "I'm rather starving."

She didn't weigh much, but they had been traveling all day.
 
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She stepped closer to the fire, enjoying the warmth it radiated on her bare skin. It was helping to dry those red locks of hers. She handed him a few of the dragonfruits and some of the wild herbs. The dragonfruit tasted, surprisingly, rather meaty. And seemed to be very filling.

She was satisfied.

And if he wasn't? He could certainly go hunting.

Juices from the fruit slipped down her chin, following the path of her skin down her neck before the back of her hand could wipe it away. Bare toes wriggle din the soft, cool grass. Vibrant greens lifted and flickered across his bare torso.

"What are those marks from?"
 
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