Completed Snips & Snails

[Corin Rook]

Mission: Thin the numbers of the Undead & Skeletons
Location: Bayou Garramarisma
Notes: Swampy

---

Leather dragged along the dirt path, small pebbles kicking back and forth as the tall, bean-sprout of an elf wandered. It was evident that she was lost, but it didn’t sour her mood too much. The sound of ruffling papers echoed in the swamp orchestra, between the croaks of swamp frogs and the buzz of insects.

One of those insects met its end against the back of a leather-bound gauntlet as the girl swatted at the creature. It had been buzzing around her head for a few miles, roughly about the time she had entered the swamp.

Her footsteps stopped as her mind caught on how odd that was. Looking down at the dead bug, she wondered if it had secretly been a fae or a wizard who had cursed himself a bit too harshly.

She stared for a moment longer before her boot slammed down on the corpse and ground it into the dirt. Shrugging, the elf began to wander deeper into the swamplands, now ignoring her map.

“I should have paid for a guide,” she mumbled to herself, but her coin bag was a bit light this time around. The job before this one hadn’t paid well enough, though she had lost half the cargo to a pair of trolls. Who knew trolls could outsmart an elf? It must have been a good day for them. Either way, she still had some coin, enough for a nice warm meal after this little errand she’d picked up.

The road began to narrow the farther she walked, the swamp now overtaking most of it. Her short sword, now drawn, began to hack away at the overgrown vegetation. As she sliced through vine and leaf, she remembered the warning the tavern keeper had given her when she accepted the long-overdue quest:

Be careful of the undead, along with soft ground — you’ll sink faster than a rock in a river.

Corin chuckled as she continued to make her own path through the swamp. Who needed a map now?

A new sound echoed — slow and shuffling. She turned her head toward the direction of the noise to see a corpse, wandering just as lost as she was. Unfortunately for it, she still had her brain. Carefully, she turned, her sword still drawn, and began to stalk the undead. There was a coin bag still attached to it, and her little amber eyes lit up at the possibilities.

If she was lucky, that coin purse still had money, which meant she could buy two bowls of soup tonight, maybe even a whole chicken.

Her mouth already salivated as she pounced and swiped her blade through the throat of the shambling zombie. Almost instantly, its body collapsed on itself, and she quickly grabbed the coin bag. It didn’t feel as heavy as it had looked, but it was still something extra.

Lifting her foot, she realized she had unfortunately stepped into the loose edge of the swamp pond. The ground began to give way as she frantically tried to pull free. The higher the water rose, the more the mud started to crawl up her shins.

“Oh no…” she whimpered, a little panicked — but she was tall. There was still time before she met her maker. Her steps began to quicken as she tried to climb her way out. It did nothing; she only sank faster. A weak branch hung low, and she grasped it, holding on and hoping someone would wander by.

“Help! Help! Help!” she called out — loud, but not loud enough to wake the dead… hopefully.​

---

Beatrix ​

 

[Beatrix]

Beatrix navigated the marshy bogs of the bayou with an ease that came with years of experience, her footfalls assured in every step upon the tried and true routes as she made her way through the thicket. Even the insects didn't seem to harass her as they often did to strangers and visitors.

Her arrival at the scene would be announced first by the rattling of bones upon her wooden stave as she came to a halt besides the swampy pit the redheaded elf was steadily sinking into. She recognized Corin, it wasn't the first time they'd met after all. The blonde witch let out a soft sigh of disappointment as she gazed down towards the half-elf, idly adjusting the brim of her hat as she closed her eyes.

"Whatever made you think coming back here alone was a good idea? Didn't learn your lesson last time...?" she spoke before opening her crystal blue eyes once more to judge the sinking woman. Her gaze drifted to the corpse of the zombie nearby and she peered back towards Corin. "Did you come here for coin? Take a few heads and proclaim yourself a hero?" she asked in an almost accusatory tone.

With measured steps she moved around the sinking mud pit and towards the body of the zombie as she knelt down to examine its condition briefly. The head had been cleanly removed but the body perhaps still served some use. She didn't seem to shy away from the fact she was pulling the shirt off the back of a corpse as she hummed. "Enough of an unmarred canvas at least..." she muttered.

Her gaze then shifted back towards Corin as she watched her in silence for a moment as she knelt down. "... Can you really not get out?" she asked plainly.

---

Corin Rook

 

[Corin Rook]

Mission: Don't die
With: Beatrix ​

---

Of course, it was her. There was the slightest hope that the witch would be the one to stumble upon her. But that hope was quickly dashed with Beatrix’s judgmental tone. The smallest little smirk curled on the Elf’s angular face as she leaned slightly forward with her arms still above her waist, as she continued to sink.

“I learned quite a bit the last time I was here.” She did, and she remembered all of it in perfect detail… minus the places where the ground was softer and willing to gobble her up. Her smirk faded as she watched the witch wander towards the body. Corin was rather proud of the kill. It had been clean, and if the Zombie was alive, they wouldn’t have realized she had struck. The smirk faded into smugness as she remembered the extra coin that the Zombie had been carrying.

“As a matter of fact, yes, I am a sword for hire, a mercenary or what have you.” Corrin reminded the woman, but when she thought about it, she couldn't remember if she had shared that bit of information the last time they had met. Either way, Beatrix would know now.

Looking down, Corin realized that the mud was now coming up to her waist — not as high as the last time she had been rescued, but getting close. She could already feel it seeping into her shoes; it was more than unpleasant.

Her smugness faded as Corin realized she wasn’t being helped yet. Did Beatrix not understand the Elf’s predicament? A little whine came from the half-elf as the witch stepped a little closer. The woman had an unfair advantage of some sort, but it would be Corin’s good fortune if she decided to help her… again.

Still, the frustration of making the same mistake twice, and of it being pointed out, slipped out as sarcasm.

“No, Bea…” Corin sighed, exasperated, holding her hands up. “I’m just pretending to be stuck.” She let her words hang for a moment, and if she could stomp a tantrum, she would. Her stubby little ears drooped in the best way they could as she groaned.

“Yes, I’m really stuck. You should put out caution signs or something.” ​

 

[Beatrix]

Beatrix levied a heavy sigh towards Corin as she rolled her blue eyes. "There are caution signs. It's every sailor at Alliria telling you to not travel to the Bayou, it's the glares you get from the locals at the Crossroad Mire, it's the corpses wandering all over the marsh..." she answered as she leaned forward to reach a hand for Corin's.

The blonde witch had no strength to speak of as she used her staff to press into the dirt behind her to somewhat anchor herself as she'd pull the elf from the swamp, stepping back and standing up as she did so. When Corin was free Beatrix gestured towards the zombie she had slain earlier. "You can thank me by carrying that back to my sanctuary, come along." she practically ordered.

Beatrix didn't wait long as she turned to start heading back in the direction she had come from, once again following the paths known to her as she'd safely be able to guide Corin through the bayou. Interestingly enough whenever they encountered the dead a light gesture of the witch's hand was all it took to dissuade them from stumbling too close.

It was clear that the blonde had some power over the dead if as much wasn't already blatantly obvious with that morbid staff she carried around, or the carved runic skull dangling from string at her hip. "Once we're done I'll be leading you straight back to the Crossroad, you really shouldn't be coming out this far in the first place, coin or not..." she spoke as she walked, turning to glance over her shoulder towards the elf. "This isn't some playground for witless adventurers..." she chastised before turning forward again.

---

Corin Rook

 

[Corin Rook]

Mission: Carry the dead body and show Beatrix the surprise
With: Beatrix

---

Corin hated when Beatrix was right. But just because she was, doesn’t mean the Elf had to acknowledge it. Even though she was being scolded, Beatrix offered her hand to the distraught Hero and helped her out of the swamp. Corin took it, and while she knew that the witch was more intelligent than strong, she did her best to help, not to strain herself too much.

“Thanks.” She nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed for once more getting caught in the mud hole. At least it wasn’t the same one as before…

If Beatrix was the one who found her, it might be. Looking back towards the mud hole, she watched as one of the air bubbles popped, and she shuddered. Corin didn’t want to think about how many poor souls might have lost their lives down there.

Though morbid curiosity played on her mind as she stared. What was at the bottom of the mud pits? Maybe she’d ask the witch after they get back to her place. Corin didn’t waste any time, nor did she question the woman when she commanded the body be brought with them.

She did take the opportunity to search their pockets as they wandered. It was fortunate that the tall Elf was able to lug the body over her shoulder, keeping it from dragging. She assumed that Beatrix didn’t want any more damage done to it beyond what the little hunter already had done.

Of course, as they walked, the scolding continued. Corin took it for the most part, already planning how she was going to get back at the swamp witch. A few long strides and Corin finally caught up to the smaller woman. She adjusted the zombie's body and kept her stride.

“Never said it was a playground,” the Elf pouted slightly, “The pay was excellent to thin undead numbers. I think the plan is for more people to be able to access it?” Corin really didn't know, and she was completely speculating. She knew the witch wasn’t much for conversation, and she was only talking this much to berate the Hero.

Still, her little grin returned. “Sooo,” she started, leaning a little closer to the witch, who hid under her wide-brimmed hat.

“You can be honest, it's just the two— well, three of us. But one of us is missing a head,” Her jaw opened in a happy, almost sarcastic expression.

“Oh, but wait!” She lifted the zombie’s head, which she had grabbed on the way from the mud pit.

“Didn’t know if you wanted it or not.” Corin shrugged, “But yes, be honest — you know you saved me because you’re finding yourself having a little wee bit of a fondness for me, yes?” ​

 

[Beatrix]

As Beatrix walked she gave a light shake of her head in response to Corin's words. "For more people to access the bayou...? The last thing anyone here wants is more intruders..." she sighed in answer as she stepped over a thick and mossy root that obstructed the path. She used her staff to gently press away any branches that got in her way, though naturally when she passed she'd let the branch go and it might just swing back at Corin who followed behind her.

"Yes, I want it." she answered in response to the head of the zombie, she'd need to re-attach it of course but a headless corpse was fairly useless by itself. She kept her gaze locked forward as she continued to navigate and soon her sanctuary would start coming into view.

What the witch called her sanctuary was a rather small hovel, a hut of sorts nestled beneath the roots of a sprawling and great gnarled tree. It was made of hardened muddy clay, sticks, wattle and daub, and grass thatching. When she neared the entrance she paused to glance back at Corin at her final question, offering a tired huff of annoyance. "I'll 'save' you so long as you continue proving yourself to be useful. Believe it or not but having you carry that corpse is a lot less taxing on me when I don't have to watch you die and raise you to do the same thing anyway." she answered before turning forward once more.

She opened the rickety wooden door of her sanctuary and moved inside, leaving the door open for Corin. The interior of the hovel was as occult and 'witch-y' as one might expect. From the ceiling hung various hand-crafted charms and ornaments, at the back wall across from the door was a burning hearth that lit and warmed the room with its flame, a comfortable couple of chairs besides it. To the left was an assortment of tables with alchemical equipment, even a cauldron, it could be surmised this was the 'kitchen' but doubled as some sort of lab.

Finally, on the right side of the room was perhaps the strangest; a space cleared for the practicing of rituals and spells. The floor there had several red runic circles, lit candles, even a tattered book on a pedestal as well as an assortment of cleaned and carved bones scattered around, and magical reagents. There was only one other door within the hovel and assumedly that led to Beatrix' own quarters.

"Place the corpse down by the runes." instructed Beatrix once Corin had entered, "And don't touch anything..." she warned.

---

Corin Rook

 

[Corin Rook]

Each and every branch that Beatrix had prevented from brushing against her hat smacked Corin in the face. She was able to side-step the last one, but the first few were the largest. Swamp trees didn’t taste as nice as the others that Corin had the joys of chewing on. Her favorite was a slightly sweet tree. Ducking under the last branch, she frowned, but continued to follow.

As they walked up, she took a look at the home of the witch. She wasn’t fending off the horde like other places may have. Though Corin didn’t know much about the swamps or really anything about this area. She only knew what was told to her at Crossroad Mire. Maybe Beatrix was right, the half-elf shouldn't have come back, but it was potentially more than a coin that urged her to return.

Stepping through, Corin gave a narrowed gaze towards the witch as she knelt down and slumped the corpse onto the runes on the right side of the home. She placed the head gently on its back. Corin wanted to peel off the leather gloves she was wearing; at this moment, they disgusted her.

As she pulled them off her hands (leaving them with the corpse), Corin couldn’t help but take in the room and the only other door that lingered. Raising both her brows, she mused about the warning.

Not to touch anything, it was as if the witch wanted her to do so. Still, she behaved for the most part. Looking up at the ceiling, Corin had to weave her way through the charms. As she did, her eyes could tell they were handmade; some reminded her of the charms her mother had crafted when she was younger. Her curiosity was piqued, but she didn’t say much about it.

Corin let her attention drift to the witch as she carefully moved over to her.

“Don’t touch anything? Does that mean everything?” she tilted her head with a mischievous little smirk.

Carefully, she reached forward, letting her fingers caress and trail against the fabric of the witch’s robes. Corin wasn’t one to follow too many commands, especially ones that she felt weren’t necessary. But she knew if she got her hands on something in the witch’s hovel, it could spell disaster. So instead, she let her curiosity remain on Beatrix.

“You’re at least a little happy to see me,” Corin and her assumptions, but she did wonder if Beatrix would have still saved her if she didn’t have the corpse lying around.

---

Beatrix

 

[Beatrix]

As Corin set down the corpse Beatrix moved towards the hearth as she removed the carved skull hanging from her hip, she placed it gently upon a small pedestal by one of the chairs upon a pillow that faced the flames. Her hand seemed to slide along the smooth top of the skull in a gentle and caring manner before she turned her attention back to the elf.

"It does mean everything..." answered the Witch as she gestured loosely to the area around them. "You don't know what's what in here, the last thing I need is a curious elf with stubby ears accidentally activating a rune on something and killing herself." she spoke as a hand moved to reach up towards one of the charms hanging from the ceiling. It was a pendant of sorts with a carved circular rune upon a face of smooth polished stone.

Crystal blue eyes shifted back towards Corin, "A lot of these are unfinished... I wouldn't even be able to tell you what they'd do in an incomplete state..." she warned once more. As she lowered her hand from the charm she noted Corin's fingers brushing against the fabric of her robes, her gaze dipping for a moment before looking back up towards the elf. Thankfully Beatrix' garb wasn't adorned in potent magical runes, not yet at least.

She huffed in annoyance at the question as she brushed a hand through her blonde hair and glanced aside, "What kind of answer are you looking for, Corin?" she asked plainly. "Are you trying to figure out if I've a heart? Because I'd have left just about anyone to sink. Maybe I think there's some use to you, hm? In that sense, yes, I'd be pleased if you didn't perish a useless death in the swamp. Does that satisfy?" she asked as cold crystal eyes shifted back towards the elf.

---

Corin Rook

 

[Corin Rook]

“They’re not that stubby…” Corin frowned as she reached out and touched the tips of her ears. She could see that there was already a lot going on in the witch’s home. Some of it did remind her of her mother, and it was pretty routine for the young Elf with stubby ears to activate a rune by accident. So Corin kept her hands, mostly to herself.

The fabric of the witch’s garb flowed over her fingers as she pulled back.

There was something in the way the woman answered the simple teasing question that made the Elf almost grin. She was useful, which, it seems, in Beatrix’s language, meant yes to Corin’s question. Corin didn’t answer right away; she let the woman’s words linger, let them marinate between them.

Corin enjoyed this more than she should. The witch gave her too much credit for how deep her thought process went, but Corin wouldn’t correct her. There was a selfish satisfaction that came with whatever answer Beatrix gave.

She stepped closer, her hand reaching forward to brush aside some of the straw coloured hair from the woman’s shoulder. Corin smiled, “It does satisfy my curiosity.”

Sometimes, Corin forgot how much taller she was than Beatrix, and her hand moved again to tilt up the brim of the hat. “You could have just said yes; it’s a far easier answer to say than to just call me useful.” Another smirk, and Corin dropped the brim of the hat, hiding those pools of ice that made up Beatrix’s eyes.

It was hard not to stare at them, but Corin did her best — she didn’t want the witch to realize that she might have a bit of pull with the mercenary.

She pulled away, letting Beatrix have some breathing room. This time, Corin kept her hands to herself. Despite the woman wanting to touch everything in the room, she was told no. But the witch didn’t stop the Elf from daring to touch her.

“What makes me useful?” Corin tilted her head. She was curious about what went through the witch’s mind, in particular, about that. There was another note, but she’d wait to explain that she didn’t need the woman to have a heart. One of those was the reason her mother was dead — so she would rather Beatrix didn’t have one…

It meant Corin didn’t need to worry.
​

---

Beatrix

 

[Beatrix]

Beatrix didn't move or react when Corin's hand brushed through the blonde hair that fell over her shoulder, nor did she step away when the wide brim of her hat was pushed up so that crystal blue eyes could stare back at the elf. "Well I didn't much care for the way you worded the question, so I'll answer in a way that I'm certain you don't care much for either." she replied as the hat was left to fall back over her eyes.

She reached a hand to adjust the brim of it before her gaze tracked the elf as she moved away. For all intents Beatrix didn't seem very phased by how close Corin had gotten to her, she was mainly worried about her getting close to anything else in her home.

When she was asked what made the redhead useful the witch answered with a plain and noted look towards the corpse on the floor. "You can carry things, for one." she answered as she turned and made her way to the chair besides the skull she had placed down earlier, taking a seat upon it with a gentle sigh. "And... I don't know when I'll need some dumb muscle to accompany me on some expedition away from the bayou, you're useful in that sense too."

Ice blue eyes shifted towards the half-elf as she then gave a question of her own in return; "Is the coin for 'making the bayou safer' the only reason you came here?" she asked, despite the fact she felt she already knew the answer.

---

Corin Rook

 

[Corin Rook]

Corrin chuckled. It was funny hearing the reason she was helpful to Beatrix. They were simple tasks that the woman could hire anyone for. She could use whatever skills she had to move things if she wanted to. Corin did enjoy knowing that her simplicity was functional, though she was a lot smarter than some dumb brute.

Her eyes followed the witch as she took her seat in front of the fire, near the skull she was so precious with. Corin was curious, but she felt they needed to know each other a bit better before she questioned the significance of the skull. But she knew if there was one thing she shouldn’t touch, it would be that.

This stumpy-eared Elf knew that much and had rough manners to realize.

The next question caught Corin’s full attention. The charms and such she was admiring were now long forgotten as she made her way carefully towards the chair and the fire. It was a question that Corin didn’t expect, but it was welcomed. Beatrix’s explanation of why she was useful was enough for the mercenary to understand that the woman may have enjoyed her company as much as someone with Beatrix’s disposition could enjoy something.

Another knowing little smirk as she tilted her head and stood near the chair, her eyes watching the flickering flames of the fire.

“I do love a good payday, it's almost ‘whole chicken day’ at the tavern.” The Elf patted her stomach, knowing her insatiable hunger was something her wallet feared.

“So a good chunk of why I came out here was that.” Her eyes drifted to Beatrix, catching a quick view of the woman’s gaze. She was looking towards her, and Corin felt the odd sensation of her throat tightening. But she didn’t let it bother her too much; instead, she kept her outward composure and shrugged.

“But no,” she started. Corin placed a hand on the back of the chair Beatrix sat on, and she leaned down towards her, a hand pulling up the brim of her hat again.

“There’s a witch that lives in this bayou that I was hoping to see; luckily, she has impeccable timing.”

Corin feigned a frown as she sighed softly, "But she's been so mean to me, what do you think I should do?"
​

---

Beatrix

 

[Beatrix]

"Whole chicken day...?" repeated Beatrix, "Feathers and all?" she added as she crossed one leg over the other with a gentle sigh. "You make it sound like they don't feed you over there. Yet they always try to make city life sound so... easy." she let out a soft breath of amusement as her blue gaze shifted towards the crackling flames of the hearth.

She wasn't watching Corin but she could certainly feel her presence behind her as the elf leaned down over her chair, tilting the brim of her hat to look upon her face once more. As she did so Beatrix' glacial eyes glanced to her through their corner. "Mm? That so? Well..." hummed the witch as she leaned back in her seat leisurely.

"If you were wanting my advice, expert in witches that I am, I'd ask if you're certain she's being mean to you. As I understand it most witches would've turned your bones to mush and your innards to soup while you were still alive rather than talk with, and invite you, into their home." she answered as her gaze remained unflinching and staring at Corin.

The people of the bayou were different than those of Alliria. The people here wouldn't think twice about draining a stranger of all their blood, flesh, and spirit in the fueling of some dark spell. In fact it was something Beatrix herself had done to the unfortunate on more than one occasion. Her words may be cold and harsh, true, but the sheer amount of hospitality and good-will she was showing Corin by not doing the same to her spoke greatly already in her own way.

"I think you should simply... accept that she's different." came the final answer from the witch before she turned her attention back to the flames. She then let the pretense of her little charade fall as she worded plainly; "Other witches would have killed you if they caught you like I had, both times. For your own safety you really should just stay at the Crossroad and wait for me to show up next time..." she spoke with a soft sigh.

---

Corin Rook

 

[Corin Rook]

Corin kept her sad little pout as Beatrix began to explain, playing along with the little play. Her words weren’t wrong, and Corin was aware that what was happening was rare for both of them. Any witch or other inhabitant who found Corin would have killed her without a second thought. It was something that Corin would never admit aloud, but she did agree with Beatrix.

The game slowly ended as Beatrix finished her last line, claiming to just accept that the witch in question was different. Corin had already accepted that, but it was the unusual behavior of saving her now twice and inviting her back that only fed Corin’s intrigue. For just a moment, when Corin stared back at the witch, remembering a certain thing she had mentioned.

It was the way she answered the Elf’s first question that spelled out more about the woman, even if she had responded bluntly.

“Mm, I do accept that you’re different, Bea,” Corin said softly with a hint of a little mischief in her amber eyes. “I don’t need to know if you have a heart or not,” Corin leaned down closer towards the witch. As much as she did trust the hospitality of the witch, she did wonder if this would cause her to turn the tables and be like the others and turn her into soup.

“Maybe it's selfish, but I like that,” Corin smirked, keeping it vague with her hand turning the witch’s hat further upward, revealing more of the woman’s face. It was probably more than what Beatrix wanted, but Corin did want to thank her again for pulling her from that mud pit.

The hand on the back of the chair moved, carefully tracing the angle of Beatrix’s jaw. With gentle pressure, she held the witch’s face by the chin and kissed her. It was short, and Corin couldn’t help but smile against her lips before pulling back.

“Wait for you at the Crossroad?” Corin let Beatrix go, letting her hand fall from her face and her hat. It wouldn’t be the last time she pushed her luck, but she didn’t want to do too much. The Elf still needed to assess how far the witch would tolerate.

Corin did enjoy being alive; she was pretty fond of it.

“What if you don’t show up at the Crossroad — you going to keep me waiting?”

---

Beatrix

 

[Beatrix]

This stubby-eared elf... Beatrix couldn't tell if she wasn't perhaps just looking for trouble, just looking for an excuse to get herself into a predicament. First the swamp, now this. Was she hoping Beatrix would retaliate? Was she just trying to push her patience and boundaries hoping for a response that might justify her actions? It was the type of paranoia and doubt that filled the thoughts of the witch as she watched Corin leaning down further into her personal space.

Ice blue eyes simply stared into ambers in response as the elf brought her face beneath the threshold of her wide-brimmed hat and touched her lips to hers. The contact was tender and warm, a sensation she rarely experienced as her glacial gaze remained open and fixated. Was the kiss reciprocated? It was hard to tell with Beatrix, her lips had definitely pursed in response to the contact but that stare was hard to read, her emotions closely guarded by a veil of heartless isolation.

The fact that she hadn't yet pushed Corin away perhaps betrayed the answer of reciprocation. She had accepted the kiss but in her own rather cold way. When it parted she glanced aside with a soft breath of perhaps frustration or embarrassment. Finally her lips parted as she spoke in reference to the rather chaste kiss; "Are you trying to get hexed...? Because that's how you get hexed..." she stated firmly in response as she closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat. Her cold gaze peered at the elf through the corner of her eyes once more.

As Corin moved away the brim of the witch's hat fell back over her eyes, shadowing and shielding them from contact for a moment of reprieve as she gave a light shrug of her shoulders. "You could be waiting for days. Are you saying you're not the patient sort?" she asked. Finally Beatrix gave a heavy sigh and a shake of her head, "You won't be heading back tonight though. I've no desire to go traipsing through the swamp again and you're certainly not leaving by yourself; you'd just get stuck again.".

Her gaze shifted back to the hearth. "You'll stay here tonight, in the morning I'll take you back to the crossroads. It's easier that way." she said, she didn't speak it as an offer but more of a command as her gaze lifted to meet Corin's once more.

---

Corin Rook

 

[Corin Rook]

Corin would take the small victory of not being hexed and not getting pushed away. She was still a little confused about whether the kiss was reciprocated, but, given the previous two things, the Elf took the small victories. She stayed close, but far enough so that Beatrix could have some space for herself. As much as Corin wanted to push things, she decided not to.

She really didn’t want to be hexed and figured if Beatrix was pushed enough, she would. The thought made the Elf shudder in boots.

“I’m patient,” she commented, arms folding in front of her. “And no, I don’t want to be hexed, but I do think — if you were going to hex me, you’d have done so already.” Smiling, she let herself be a little smug in this moment.

“Especially after I just kissed you... though,” Corin tapped her chin as she glanced away. “No one’s ever threatened me after kissing them before. So that’s a first.”

Had Corin kissed a lot of people? No, she was too shy for that. Did Beatrix know? Probably not, but if she seemed in demand, maybe she’d be able to squeeze a bit more information from the witch — on how she actually felt about the Elf.

Though it was unlikely, Corin would reserve her thoughts. At least, she had the witch’s actions to spring off of. To offer a place to stay and a guide through the swamp was more than she probably has offered anyone else. It seemed that Beatrix enjoyed her quiet time, but for some reason had allowed the Elf to bother her twice now. Corin took it as a positive — that she was more welcomed than what the witch wanted to let on.

“Despite not being patient, I’d wait for you… only because you so kindly asked me to.” She really didn’t ask, but Corin wouldn’t correct herself.

Looking around, her eyes fell upon the door that led to Beatrix’s own room. Tilting her head, she wondered how the sleeping arrangements would go. The witch was protective about her charms and runes that lingered about the kitchen and living space — but would she?

From the corner of her eye, Corin looked to the woman in front of the fire.

“I appreciate the hospitality, but where would you like me to sleep… I’d also like to clean up. I’m trying to stay in one spot, not to leave mud everywhere in your home…” Corin looked down at her lower half and realized most of the mud had dried onto her.

A cheeky little grin swept across her face as she wondered if her following statement would get her hexed.

“It's been cold lately in the bayou,” her voice mused, “I run warmer than most, I wouldn’t say no to warming your bed, Bea.”

---

Beatrix

 

[Beatrix]

"Sounds like you kiss a lot of boring people." stated Beatrix firmly in response as she rested her head in her hand, leaning slightly to the side in her seat as she peered up towards the tall elf. But then the redhead's words seemed to cause her some confusion. She's patient? She doesn't consider herself patient? Which was it? The puzzled look on the face of the witch was clear to see but she didn't press the question itself as she just sighed softly in response.

Her ice blue eyes caught the glance towards the only other door in the room that wasn't the exit as she followed them it turning back to focus on her. "Yes, that's where I sleep if you were wondering. As for what we're going to do with you though?" she uncrossed her legs only to cross them again the other way, "I was thinking of maybe hammering a small post into the dirt just outside, wrap a chain around it, and then put it around your neck." she answered bluntly.

It was of course a jest, perhaps one in poor taste, but that was just the sense of humor Beatrix had. Whether Corin thought she was serious or not, after a few seconds she'd add; "I'm kidding. I'll not have it be said I'm not an accommodating host..." she said with the lightest amount of mirth to her tone.

"There's a wash basin in my room. You'd need to fill it and heat it, though. As for cleaning your gear? You'd have to go scrub it in some water outside. Believe it or not but some pools of the bayou are cleaner than others." she answered as she finally moved to stand herself up from her seat. Corin was still right in front of her and so the difference in height would be made apparent as the witch stared up at her.

Her cold blue gaze squinted lightly at the last comment from the elf. "Not much shame, have you...?" she asked as she regarded her in thought for a moment, those cold eyes peering over her form before they turned back to meet her gaze, "Fine, but don't think that it changes anything." she stated without so much as a flinch. The witch was so very difficult to read most of the time, and this was certainly no exception.

---

Corin Rook

 

[Corin Rook]

Corin was caught off guard by the first statement about where she was sleeping. There was a part of her that believed Beatrix would do such a thing. Corin rubbed a hand around her neck. If Beatrix did do that, she’d be zombie bait… maybe that was the point. The confidence that bled from the elf dissipated for just a moment until the witch soothed her worry.

Corin just laughed… awkwardly.

“My mother was a werewolf, that’d be a bit too on the nose for me.” She mumbled as she looked back towards the room, listening to the rest of the answers she was waiting for. She began to strip down from her armor the moment Beatrix mentioned where the wash bin was. She didn’t intend to warm it up; sometimes, the cooler water was more soothing to the usually overheating Corin.

Shrugging off the bits of rugged leather over her head, she stood in the loose linen shirt and a pair of linen shorts. The comment of shame echoed, and Corin looked down at herself, then chuckled along with her statement that prompted the response from the witch. Shaking her head, fingers threaded through her copper hair as she hummed to herself.

“No,” Corin again shook her head, letting the rest of her hair loosen and rest on her shoulders. “No reason for it. Just stops people from doing things that could be fun.” Kneeling, as she finished, Corin gathered her armor and padded her way towards the door, dropping it just before it. “I’ll wash them tomorrow when you’re up to ‘trapising’ through the swamp again.”

Unlike before, Corin was careful where she stepped, aware now of the charms and the runes that scattered about the cottage. As much as she enjoyed getting under Beatrix’s skin and getting some reaction out of her, she knew when to stop. Exploding without armor and with the ‘possibilities’ of the evening looming over her head, she figured it was a good idea to be careful.

Once more, Corin and her shameless self paused before thinking of pushing open Beatrix’s bedroom door.

“I'm curious…” Corin raised an eyebrow. “What doesn’t change anything?” Her nose wrinkled slightly as that same mischievous glint brightened her eyes. Wondering if it pertained to the sleeping arraignments she smiled widely.

“Are you really going to just lie there next to me…” she chuckled, “...and sleep?”

Corin, of course, had other plans, but those could reveal themselves later; right now, she was enjoying this little game of her teasing and Beatrix being as unreadable as possible.

“Also, I think I need a little help with the wash bin,” Corin shrugged, “I need to capitalize on this great hospitality of yours.” ​

---

Beatrix

 

[Beatrix]

A brow was raised. "Hm? Your mother was a lycan?" she asked curiously. Finally Corin seemed to have said something that caught her attention, even if it was just because Beatrix typically took an interest in the occult, the supernatural, especially if it was spooky. "You'll have to tell me more about that sometime... And how it affects you." she added just before Corin started to strip herself down.

Beatrix didn't move away, and she didn't even seem particularly surprised as glacial eyes dipped to watch as the tall woman removed her gear, leaving her only in a linen shirt and shorts. She hummed at the redhead's words as she met her eyes again, "An exhibitionist, then..." she mused quietly to herself but intentionally loud enough to hear.

She watched Corin make her way towards her chambers, standing just outside the door before the elf turned to her and asked what wouldn't change. A light smirk appeared on the lips of the witch, "It means that you shouldn't expect the way I treat you to change. This is as good as it gets with me, which is saying a lot already." she answered, and it was the truth. The way Corin spoke to her, the way she treated her, if it were anyone else they really would have been chained to a post in front of her sanctuary, rather than being offered the hospitality that Beatrix now gave so freely.

When being asked if she'd really just go to sleep if she were laying besides the elf she simply gave a shrug in response as she steadily made her way towards her. She sighed lightly, pushing by Corin so that she could open the door and walk in ahead of her. "Is filling a tub with water that difficult...?" she muttered. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, considering how dense you seem..." she stated.

The room was just a little smaller than the main one, there was a large bed in one corner with clean bedding and sheets, in fact it looked very soft. Beatrix lived in a swamp but that didn't mean she couldn't have some luxuries of her own. The wash basin was on the other side of the room, it was rather small, just enough for one to fit in, but that was a lot more practical than the bed was, the bed was for comfort.

Otherwise there were notably no charms or the like in her room, no runes or bones, just a comfy and warm bedroom tucked away in the hidden marshes of the bayou.

---

Corin Rook

 

[Corin Rook]

Corin just nodded, answering both about her mother and the fact that she’d need to explain how it affected her to the witch. Most never took an interest in the elf in that sense, though she never really let on that she was a child of a Lycan.

“I don’t have fur or anything, if you’re wondering…” Corin retorted quickly, remembering a couple of jabs as a child from other children who had found out about her mother’s disease. Most of the time, it didn’t bother her, but she didn’t enjoy thinking about it. Corin tried to forget the small interaction as she focused back onto Beatrix, who seemed to assume she was somewhat of an exhibitionist.

She didn’t respond with anything but a shrug. Guess if the shoe fits.

There was a little knowing smile on her face as Beatrix reminded her of how ‘special’ the way she was treating her was. It wasn’t going to get better, but hopefully not much worse. Still, Corin wasn’t as dense as the woman assumed she was; she knew the game she was playing.

And soon Beatrix would know as well.

Corin stepped aside, letting the shorter woman push her way through towards the room. She poked her head around the pointed hat and examined the layout. It was cozier than she had expected, though she figured there needed to be some reprieve from the magic and the runes.

“Well, lucky me then that I get to be your favorite.” Corin teased the witch. "About how the whole lycanthropy affects me..."

She followed Beatrix into the room and slowly closed the door behind her.

"Maybe I can just show you..."

The sound of the door locking echoed in the quiet of the evening.​

---

Beatrix