Completed A Druid's Prayer

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Petrus did not pursue her, did not try and force her, as she shook her head and pulled away. He could tell that her walls were returning, that she like himself had allowed herself to be weak and now regretted it. His voice would be low, pointed, but not insulting as he murmured.

"I know. You will never have to."

Both a reassurance to her and a chastisement of himself he would nod at her request for time.

"Of course. I was never offering a trade, a transaction, only empathy. For whatever it is worth to you."

He would turn and walk to the edge of the grove and begin to once again weave soft and subtle enchantments to ward away intrusion. He had no control of his magic alluring and coaxing at Elinyra's senses but that was not his intent by returning to his task. Merely to create some distance for both their benefits.

Elinyra Derwinthir​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

Elinyra crossed her arms over herself as she hurried away. She had decided to walk it off once she'd checked in on Fielynn and Fwysog. Seeing that both were resting peacefully, she continued into the woods beyond the grove, merely following the direction her feet chose.

The stillness of Petrus's grove was replaced by the barest chill of an early autumn breeze. The undergrowth was black as pitch beneath a moonless sky. It proved no hindrance to the blightborn's vision, though the vibrant hues she could see in the daylight dulled into the glow of life energy; a dim vapor rising from a nearby rotting log, a solid white light in a mouse that scurried across her path.

"Of course. I was never offering a trade, a transaction, only empathy. For whatever it is worth to you."

As she glanced up at the patches of starlight that shone through the thick canopy, she thought about Petrus's words with a flush of embarrassment. Reflexively, she had snapped at the man in self-defense instead of showing gratitude for what was obviously very difficult for him. A situation she would have to rectify on her return, if sleep didn't claim her first.

She yawned. Now that her storm of emotions had passed, exhaustion was beginning to creep into her weary muscles. The decision on whether they would stay longer was one best made tomorrow, when sleep wasn't making her mind so groggy.

She was about to turn back around when something strange caught her eye. Six somethings, brighter than the surrounding forest, were moving through the underbrush in near-perfect silence -- in her direction.

Elinyra darted back to a nearby pine and pressed her back against it, her skin and bark-flesh taking on the tones of the surrounding wood. Thus camouflaged, she waited for the creatures to pass by. She noted with concern that at least four more were moving as a group towards the grove.

The group of six stopped in a circle around the tree Elinyra was hiding under. It was too dark to make out any physical features beyond the fact that they were short and had backwards-facing knees like some sort of beast. They chattered to each other in a language Elinyra recognized as some Sylvan dialect.

"She thinks she can hide from us," snickered one.

"Let's all stab her at once!" said another.

"No, me first!" wailed a third, leaping forward with a thin dagger in its hand.

Before any of them could get to her, the old pine shot upwards, its bark groaning as it split to make room for the new growth that exploded from its roots. Standing now on the tree's crown, Elinyra shouted as loudly as she could into the night,

"We're under attack!"

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

No sooner had the words of Elinyra's warning reached Petrus's ears than he noticed six entities of his own enter the clearing. It had taken them some extra time, the enchantments and obscuring rituals he had laden upon the place making it hard for many beings to truly locate the grove. He began to wonder to himself how the creatures had located it at all when he saw where their eyes trailed.... right to Fielynn. In fact they were so intent on their sleeping quarry that they did not even seem to notice him until he walked, in great strides to stand before the little child, between her and the would-be assailants. Pausing for only a moment, as the creatures were more than a little surprised by his appearance, Petrus would fill the silence by speaking to... someone or something else.

"Maintain your distance, no need to involve yourself in this battle, creatures such as this deserve my personal attention."

The last two words were bitten out as a threat while the creatures sniggered to one another and began to fan out, blades in hand, while Petrus swept his amber eyes across them before channeling a subtle spell to carry a warning to Elinyra on the wind.

'Danger. Fielynn. Target. Enemies. Protect. Safety.'

With that done Petrus would slowly turn to Fwysog and instruct the little hillock.

"Continue rocking the child, they won't bring her any ha-....."

A knife, thrown from the assailants, would whizz toward Petrus before he finished speaking and flick of his hand would conjure a gust of wind to blow it away, causing it to land with a faint THUNK in the grass. Returning his attention to the six of them he would exhale slowly, his voice a low, smoldering thing of restrained anger.

"No one will ever find your bodies."

He stated simply before dropping to one knee with surprising swiftness, a surge of magic met the charge of the creatures and with terrifying quickness the very earth beneath them would split, rending apart, and swallowing them before just as quickly slamming shut and burying the assailants as if they had never existed. Save for the lone dagger still stuck in the grass some feet from Petrus.

Elinyra Derwinthir​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

The fae creatures were already scaling the tree Elinyra was perched upon. She felt a jab in her right leg as a hurled dagger stuck there, unable to penetrate the wooden flesh. She tore out the icy cold blade and tossed it aside before launching herself towards another nearby tree, which obligingly cushioned her descent with its branches.

Petrus's voice reached her on the wind as she dropped the final few feet from the tree and took off at a sprint towards the grove. She had to grant that her would-be assassins were quick; they had dropped down from the first tree and were on her heels. She caught glimpses of movement as they fanned out to try to cut off her path.

Bolts of fairie fire erupted from her hands and raced towards her assailants, alighting one of them in its eerie, chromatic light. It didn't seem to slow the creature down, but it gave her a better look at it: Ugly and misshapen, with sharp features, white eyes and sharp teeth that presently showed in a malicious grin.

Elinyra fell forward as something yanked her legs together. She rolled over onto her back to see a bola fashioned of vines and stone wrapped around her.

"Fool! You think you can hurt us with a bit of fae magic?" it hissed in Common, holding its dagger at her neck.

"Maybe not," she replied evenly. "But this will."

She grasped the dagger blade with her wooden hand while she reached up with the other. The creature's smug grin turned into a howl of surprise and pain as something erupted from her hand and went right through it, sending it falling backwards silently as necrotic energy ate through it like flames through paper.

Its previously-brazen cohorts lost some of their courage at the sight of the blighted scythe that their intended victim had conjured from her hand and was now cutting herself free with.

Another met the same fate as it attempted to sneak around her.

"Leave now or die," she growled at them and turned back towards the grove. None of them chose to keep their lives.

---

The grove had returned to silence since Petrus had dispatched the first assailants. It was a pressing silence, as if the crickets and owls, and even the breeze had retreated. In that silence, something else stalked towards the sacred space on six muscular, silvery legs that moved with such grace that they almost seemed to phase through the forest.

Four feline pupils set within golden eyes stared through the darkness at the lone man protecting the child. The magic within this place felt unpleasant against its sleek fur, but it would not be dissuaded from its task. Once set upon a hunt, a niwhylla would never stop.

With supernatural agility, the fae beast climbed one of the trees on the grove's periphery and crouched to attack its guardian.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Petrus exhaled softly as yet more felt wrong in the grove. More intruders.... no... an intruder. The wind whispered of it's presence, the trees rustled it's whereabouts, and two amber eyes would meet four golden orbs as Petrus calmly drew the rapier from his hip and stared the creature down. It, of course, thought itself the predator and Petrus drew a steadying breathe as a faint tingle in his fingertips told him that his earlier exertion in granting Elinyra her feeling back along with dispatching the rabble so quickly had taxed him. He was out of practice.

But at least here, of all places, he would focus from his crouched position and draw energy that Arethil was willing to give. Beckoning the trees, the grass, the rich minerals beneath, and he had only just begun to do this when the beast leapt to a different branch and then made it's lunge....

Petrus would, with a swift stab of his rapier, guide the earth to erupt up onto an equal pointed thrust. A piercing pillar of earth spiking upward to intercept the creature as it leapt for him.... only... it had not leapt for him. Not directly. The creature would contort it's body in the air, it's feline grace and claws allowing it to avoid the lethal spike and, instead, turn it's gaze to Fielynn as it's haunches ran taut and it prepared to pounce.

Petrus, hissing in anger, would without thinking place himself between the child and the beast as Elinyra reached the grove. The sight she would be greeted with was the feline creature standing on it's back legs, fangs sunk greedily not into her daughter but into the forearm of the man she had just met. Blood and saliva mixing into a slurry that fell upon the grove's floor.... and a rapier hilt that was buried into the beast's gut as it's body slowly went lip, it's snarling dying as it's life faded and... with one last heave Petrus would shove the beast off him and grunt in pain as he clutched his arm close.

He had also forgotten what pain such as this felt like.

Elinyra Derwinthir​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

Elinyra's eyes went wide at the sight that met her in the grove. Her legs ached as she pushed herself even faster, her free hand erupting in chromatic fire to hurl at the beast, only...

...the creature slumped to the ground, dead at Petrus's feet.

A garbled cry issued from the hammock. She rushed over breathlessly and, with the almost supernatural quickness of a terrified mother, scooped up her daughter in one arm. Fielynn looked around, bleary-eyed and annoyed at being awakened from her slumber, but completely unharmed. Elinyra layed her back down, whispering a few words of comfort before turning around.

She turned her gaze first to Petrus, an expression of sincere gratitude on her face that shifted to concern at the sight of the deep wound in his arm.

"I can... heal that for you," she said between ragged breaths. "If you'll... allow me."

She looked down at the dead niwhylla. Memories older than hers knew of this creature and its inherent danger. That it had come seeking her daughter was more than a little troubling. But even in its state, it could do one last service to mend the damage it had caused.

A shadow blacker than those cast by the standing stones engulfed the scythe as she took it in both hands and slashed it across the corpse. The strike had no effect on the body, but she could feel the weapon collecting the remnants of its life energy. The scythe, having finished its task, dissipated into ash, sending that energy into Elinyra.

Her hands were now limned in soft blue-white light as she looked back to Petrus, awaiting his response.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Petrus let out a heavy breathe as Elinyra swept past him to check on her fussing daughter. Petrus would take the moments of respite to slump with his back to the standing stone, seated in the grass, and raise his eyes to the stars now beginning to dot the sky and wipe his forehead with his uninjured arm. Only when Elinyra approached, offering to heal him, would he look down at the bleeding wound and simply give a nod.

Extending the arm out toward Elinyra as she kneeled down to begin healing the wound Petrus did not lower his gaze to his arm, he did not need to watch her progress, and in the soft blue-white light of her magic he would extend his uninjured arm to gently tilt up her chin. To softly bring her gaze to his as his amber eyes seemed a Fae fire of their own as they reflected the light of her touch, his fingers soft and warm against her skin as he searched her eyes and asked in a soft, gently rumbling tone.

"Are you harmed, Elinyra?"

Her name was smoldering fire upon his lips, his concern cooling spring water, and his touch the embrace of the very winds that could fill her lungs. Perhaps in one moment, even without magic, something like the emotions that were half-buried within her could return? But could she survive them herself or were they too much to bear?

Elinyra Derwinthir​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

For a long moment, Elinyra could not find the words to answer Petrus's question. She could hardly concentrate on healing his wounds, struck as she was by the unexpected tenderness reflected in his eyes, the subtle suggestion of his touch.

"No," she breathed, having long forgotten about the insignificant cut on her leg. The rush of adrenaline that had carried her through danger gave way to another feeling that had long awaited its freedom: longing. It rose within her like sudden summer storm, sublime and terrifying in its intensity.

Her hand was still glowing softly as she raised it to touch the back of his. It illuminated the scant space between them before the remaining energy dissipated like tiny fireflies, leaving the two of them bathed only in gentle starlight.

"It is done," she said, her voice trembling slightly as she moved her face slowly towards him, as if she feared breaking such a fragile moment.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Burning like stoked coals would amber eyes meet the forest green of the windows to Elinyra's soul. Her touch bade the wound to vanish, even in her distracted state, and the hand that cupped her chin would spread to cover her cheek gently. His thumb sweeping in a slow, purposeful movement along her jaw, just below her lips, while his own previously-injured hand would extend to softly touch the wound to her right leg, gently laying onto her thigh as he pulled her in, slowly and gently.

At her trembling words he would nod, barely perceptible, and in one firm motion her knelt posture would be pulled down into his lap. Her slow movements toward him, her fear of breaking the fragile moment, guided into a slow, deep kiss. The hand upon her cheek and chin sliding up her features to gently tease at her pointed ear, the hand upon her right thigh squeezing tenderly even as he used what little remained of his own magic to heal her wounds in turn.

As his hand and magic healed one wound his lips worked to heal an altogether different sort of damage. He did not rush, did not make it a thing solely of thoughtless passion, even as the hand softly playing with her ear moved to tenderly grip her hair and hold her in the embrace he would still allow her all the time, all the chances, to pull away if she wished. But if she did not then after a moment he would be the one to break the embrace with a soft, sinful and very unfair nip to her lower lip as he opened his eyes to stare into hers. Pointedly agreeing with her for entirely different reasons.

"It is done."

The hand in her hair would gently attempt to guide this proud, beautiful woman to lay her head upon his shoulder, the grasp on her thigh caressing there gently before that arm circled around her waist and tried to hold her close

Elinyra Derwinthir​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

Whatever uncertainty she might have held onto, whatever fears might have caused her to push away took flight at the barest graze of his fingertips across her skin. She relaxed into his embrace, pressing into the kiss with a soft moan as she savored the intimate warmth and the tingle of healing magic. She tilted her head to the side slightly to enjoy the caress on her ear as her hands slipped up the curve of his back.

Surprised by the playful nibble, she opened her eyes with a coy, if not slightly disbelieving, smile. A part of her could not believe this was more than a dream that brings comfort in the wake of a nightmare. But if it was, she wanted to lose herself in it -- in the eyes looking back at her. Even if it was for but a single night.

She followed his gentle pull, turning her head so she could face him as she lay on his shoulder. She moved a hand from his back to brush her fingers through his midnight-dark hair while the evening carried on in peaceful stillness around them.

"It doesn't have to be," she whispered.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Petrus would exhale deeply and his grip on Elinyra would constrict slowly, almost thoughtfully, as he felt her brush his back and lean into him. Her walls had broken down, if only temporarily, and he stood upon the precipice, halted only for his own reasons. Even her whispered words, enticing enough to make any man give in to her allure, only drew him in a bit further, the arm around her lower back gripping her hip firmly, but not too roughly, while the hand in her hair would sweep down, fingertips dragging down the side of her neck and along her pulse before he softly encircled Elinyra's throat with a hand. Not choking, not gripping in anger, but to further study her eyes as he nodded a single, firm nod.

Drawing magic from the circle Petrus would form for them a cocoon, for privacy, and only there in the semi-translucent fibers of their secret haven, dimly lit by starlight from above, would he begin to unravel her. Despite her corruption, despite the blight that gripped her, Elinrya was still a transcendently beautiful woman and once he took his time in unwrapping. Tunic, pants, all that stood between her body and the open air would be cast aside firmly. Perhaps even torn from her if she enjoyed the display but....

As he said before, he was not a good man, not a kind man, and the night that lay before Elinyra was one of control unyielding, passion allowed a single night of revelry from a man who wielded an iron fist against even his own emotions, and a seed that could not blossom planted deeply all the same until she brought to exhaustion.


The Next Morning

Petrus would awake in nothing but his trousers in the cocoon, sunlight barely leaking through the fibers that created their haven, Elinyra tightly wound in his grasp and held to his chest such that his heartbeat sounded in her ears. It may have been greedy, may have been unfair and wrong in light of their night together.... but he was not done with her.

Now that he was awake he would gingerly roll himself over, putting Elinyra beneath him, and a hungry kiss would herald yet more unleashed passions as an.... interesting way to begin the day.... no less controlling, unyielding and fiery than the night before.


Some Time Later


His passions finally spent he would slowly, carefully begin to slide Elinyra back into her clothing, the slightest change to his actions in her presence. Now his control left her with no doubt that the gentle touches, the barest scrape of fingertips against skin as he slid on her tunic, was all intentional. But if there had been in doubt when he gripped her chin and planted a single, firm kiss on her lips and outright stated.

"Let me linger on your mind as long as you wish."

It left no room for doubt as he began to pick up his own clothing and pull it on.

Elinyra Derwinthir​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

It wasn't the soft autumn morning light slanting through the diaphanous walls that awakened Elinyra, but the sensation of movement as she was rolled onto her back. She opened her eyes to see Petrus above her, his black mane tousled from the previous night's adventures. She still found it remarkable, as she had the night before, how youthful he appeared once he'd been free of his aristocratic trappings. Aside from some peppered grey in his hair and a few wrinkles on his face, it was almost as if he was aging more like an elf than a human.

Though true to her view of humans, far more forward in his passions than most elves. Possibly more than most humans.

The look in his eyes now told her that his carnal desires were not completely sated. She started to lightly protest in light of her motherly duties, but found her words smothered by the intensity of his affections. She couldn't help but feel guilty, even though she knew Fwysog would take care of Fielynn until she returned.

---

That maternal sense of responsibility prompted Elinyra, once they had finished, to hasten the dressing process. She smiled in response to Petrus's statement before pulling aside the cocoon's walls and stepping into the morning light to attend to her daughter.

She had no doubt this memory would indeed linger, in a physical as well as emotional sense. He had not been gentle, and she was quite certain the soreness alone would last at least a few days.

"Maa maa!" Fielynn, sitting in the grass and sweet clover, called as soon as she saw Elinyra crossing the clearing. Elinyra's gaze caught momentarily on the corpse of the fae beast that had attacked her daughter, and her thoughts collected themselves even in her haze of exhaustion. She had to find out who had orchestrated it, and why.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Petrus was not at all surprised that Elinyra rushed to redress herself and tend to her daughter. Frankly he was surprised she had protested more fiercely to him when they awoke. He smugly took that as a sign of enjoyment as he watched her leave the cocoon, gaze lingering palpably on the movement of her hips until the final moment the cocoon closed behind her.

Taking a moment to allow her to do, say or otherwise nurture her daughter however she wished Petrus would redress himself fully before idly adjusting the amber ring upon his finger. Almost becoming lost in thought he would then shake his head and emerge from the cocoon behind her and turn his attention to aiding it in breaking down back into nature. Restoring the energy to Arethil what was borrowed before he turned to Elinyra and also eyed the beast he had slain. Murmuring softly.

"You are being hunted and will need safety. It is a far cry from the grove but my home in Alliria has many gardens, many private reserves, you could be safe there."

He would nod his head at Fielynn and then turn his gaze to Elinyra, staring into her eyes as he emphasized.

"SHE could be safe there."

Elinyra Derwinthir​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

She had no doubt that Petrus was right about them being hunted. This attack had not been random. Their assailants had waited for them to get to the Falwood, though she could not imagine why.

Fielynn stared down at the carcass from the safety of her mother's arms, apparently intrigued by the creature.

Elinyra sighed inwardly. She was no longer a member of a druidic order, and thus lacked the resources and connections she once had. She'd long been used to living off the land. She'd been able to make enough money to buy things on the road by trading rare herbs to herbalists along the way, but she had no idea how to survive for long in any city.

And, she reasoned, Alliria was in the opposite direction of where she'd originally planned to go. They'd be just as safe within the walls of Fal'Addas as Alliria, and if she had to pick a city to seek sanctuary in, it would be the great city of her former people.

"We don't belong in a city." In truth, she also didn't like the idea of being reliant on someone she didn't know beyond spending a single night together.

She shook her head. "I appreciate the offer, but I think we should keep going."

"Besides," she added with another long look at the fallen niwhylla, "Fwysog has proven very good at keeping Fielynn out of harm's way, and I've fought worse."

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Her answer was not unexpected.

In truth he would have been far more surprised if she had taken him up on his offer so readily. Night of passion or no she was a lonely creature, proud, and seemingly almost lost in her own way. Perhaps, in this instance, there was even some fear in her of becoming too attached? He could not say. Nevertheless Petrus would nod at her answers, not deigning to look at the slain beast as she and her daughter did, gaining for her a morsel of respect for not wanting to rely on others so rashly.

"As you say."

He agreed before clearing his throat and speaking clearly.

"Drystan?"

In the span of a heartbeat a man, shorter than Petrus and roughly the same height as Elinyra to be exact, would seem to simply..... appear behind Elinyra. The woods did not whisper of his approach, the wind did not carry his scent, the birds did not chirp of his passing, he simply... was. Hands laced calmly behind his back as his finely-dressed form in black-and-gold bowed politely and answered.

"My Lord?"

Petrus would motion vaguely to Elinyra, his gaze drifting to the younger man.

"This woman, and her daughter, are to receive personal invitations to House grounds. You are authorized to use my personal seal for this."

Drystan would straighten and give a genial smile, his rather handsome face never once betraying any emotion other than polite servility.

"Of course my Lord."

Drystan was an attractive man, especially so for a human, with chestnut brown hair that hung in low curtains to sweep dramatically over glimmering hazel eyes. He was also fit, taking full advantage of the prime of his life, enough to make his uniform flex and mold to him in subtle ways as he moved. Like the pelt of a jungle cat stretched taut over muscle whenever it moved just so.

Drystan would turn, rifling through his things, and begin to set up some parchment and ink on the table Petrus had conjured to do as commanded. Petrus, meanwhile, would turn his gaze back to Elinyra and ask.

"You are certain there is nothing that would make your travels easier?"

Elinyra Derwinthir​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

Elinyra startled at the young man's sudden appearance, and gave him a slightly uneasy glance. In her experience, people who seemed to mysteriously materialize were never a good sign. Fielynn waved one small hand at Drystan with a giggle, as if she'd just seen him do a magic trick.

Elinyra laid aside her irrational discomfort and turned her attention back to Petrus.

"I have not been travelling in the Falwood for some time. Is there anything I should expect along the road to Fal'Addas?"

He might catch a glimpse of uncertainty in her otherwise stoic demeanor as she studied him. She knew there was no reason to ruminate on what had transpired between them last night; she was certain it had been a purely physical act for him, and a fulfilment of both a physical and an emotional need for her. A tryst, and nothing more. To think otherwise was wholly naive.

"Thank you," she said with a nod, the feeling carrying more weight than words could hope to convey.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Drystan would smile at the child idly, even spinning the quill in his fingers to amuse Fielynn, before continuing his work. Petrus, meanwhile, would think briefly on Elinyra's question and shake his head.

"In years past I would have warned of undead in the area, or perhaps brigands, but currently trade between Alliria and Vel Anir is frequent enough to warrant stable patrols along the roads. So long as you do not stray too far afield from them, much as the deep forest may call to you, you should be more than safe."

Her thanks earned an odd expression from the man. He felt the weight of the words, all of it, and would exhale slowly before nodding his head.

"Of course. This is not the last we will meet. I shall send a messenger to Fal'Addas to take stock of your condition."

Drystan would hold up a rolled writ and Petrus would walk past Elinyra, his hand purposely brushing her hip and the side of her rear, before he took it from Drystan and walked back to her, holding out the wax-sealed parchment and staring into her eyes.

"That is, of course, unless you never wish to see me again....."

It was a lead, unfair, loaded question and he would stand close enough to be pointedly in her personal space, intimate one might call it, as rich amber gazed into forest green.

Elinyra Derwinthir​

 

[Elinyra Derwinthir]

She pulled the parchment slowly away from him, as if she wanted the moment to last a little longer. A slightly sultry smile spread across her face at his question, a hairline crack in the ice that guarded her heart.

"Fighting for our lives aside, it has been a pleasure. One that won't soon be forgotten," she remarked before kissing his cheek softly.

"Welwn ni chi eto cyn bo hir." See you again soon.

Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Petrus would arch a brow as Elinyra gave the kind of smile she had only given during their night together and he would rumble a low hum at her kiss to his cheek. Her goodbye being returned with one of his own.

"Byddaf yn cyfrif yr eiliadau." I will count the seconds.

As Elinyra took her daughter and left Drystan would return to Petrus's side and, only once she was gone, lean over and comment to his lord.

"You know my Lord between her and the Empress-Regent Medja you COULD do worse in fi-....."

Drystan paused as he noted the daggers Petrus glared at him and snapped his mouth shut, bowing his head.

"Never mind my Lord, how foolish of me to comment."

Petrus would sigh and, walking past Drystan, would place a hand on his shoulder.

"Come."

Walking off toward their own camp Drystan would glance one final time to where Elinyra had left, smirk knowingly, and begin to whistle a tune as he followed Petrus dutifully.

Elinyra Derwinthir
-- END THREAD --​