Fable - Ask Two Taboos

[Jorg]

Jorg did not know how much longer he walked, he did not know how much further he'd taken step after step, yet eventually he'd collapsed.

The Wolf's facade fell away from him. Eyes still yellowed, but the tufts of his ears disappearing and flesh regrowing where it had been torn away from him. Fur had been left behind, but the River had blocked their scent.

"T-tinder.' Jorg said quietly as he sat Taboo down against a boulder. "N-n-need tinder."

A fire.

His fingers shook heavily as he quickly moved around the clearing, gather what sticks he could and quickly gathering them in a pile. From his belt he took some flint and a piece of steel, quickly trying to light the flame as fast as he possibly could.

Eventually it sparked to life, erupting in a soft glow of warmth.

 

[Taboo]

|| Jorg ||

Taboo was shivering, fingers curling in under her wet gloves as if attempting to maintain some level of warmth only for it to fail. Everything seemed equally numb while in pain. It was a dreadful sensation and the Half-Drow couldn't put into words her distaste on the matter.

The fact she lost so much blood also had something to do with it.

Blinking rapidly, she tried to make sense of where they were and what the man was doing. Yet her eyes felt heavy, desperately wanting to close as she shuddered and trembled. Her body had its limits. She reached them.

Before she knew it, the edges of her peripheral vision began to blur. Within seconds, everything went black.

 

[Jorg]

Jorg moved fast.

The small fire was quickly made bigger until it was practically roaring. As soon as the heat was enough Jorg glanced towards the Drow, seeing her fallen over. A shiver ran through him, but he went over to her and pulled her body close to the heat.

As soon as he did he tended the wound on her leg, this time being more careful in how he applied the bandage and ensuring she did not die.

Next he ran around the clearing, gathering fallen sticks, breaking off branches, and even hacking off some of his own. It took him near thirty minutes, but he managed to build a small standing shelter to keep the wind off both them and the fire.

It was the herbs that came last, and by the time Jorg found what he needed he was nearly freezing to death himself.

 

[Taboo]

|| Jorg ||

Consciousness came in varying degrees. The chill in the air. The smell of wood smoke. Warmth against her right side.

The Half-Drow's lids gave a flutter, blinking rapidly as she came to. What she first saw were the Blood Stars framed by the cobalt and green hues of the auroras, sweeping across the sky much like the stroke of a painters brush.

Her face gave a frown, vision blurry. The dull ache of sore muscles and her leg wound came next. As did the shivering of laying in wet clothing for the better part of an hour. At this rate she'd catch her death.

A groan managed to escape her mouth, and she was cognizant that she was on her side next to a roaring fire. At least one that didn't have her tied up to a pole with the flames licking her feet. She heard all too well the rumors of some humans burning alleged witches at the stake. Or worse, throwing them into the river to see if they swam or drowned to prove their innocence.

Wretched fools.

Where am I? came her first thought. Another immediately drew her attention towards her leg, where she saw that the wound had been bound in cloth and herbs as neatly as it could considering the situation. A sudden dart of alarm sent her head panning quickly to find the man.

 

[Jorg]

Jorg was sitting almost directly besides Taboo at her feet, probably half obscured by her own legs considering she was as curled up as a hedgehog trying to defend itself from a predator.

The Small shelter was barely big enough for the both of them, but he'd managed to squeeze himself inside and away from the wind. The fire had done a fairly good job at drying his clothes, though he suspected the only reason he hadn't died was because of the wolf.

He'd used his overcoat to cover Taboo, not wanting her to freeze to death.

"Finally awake, huh?" It had been several hours now, and Jorg had spent most of it simply sitting and watching the woods.

The Villagers had given up their pursuit once they'd crossed the river it seemed, and not so much as a mouse had bothered him. A rabbit was also sitting over the cook fire now, slowly turning on a spit he had made out of some sticks.

 

[Taboo]

|| Jorg ||

His voice drew her attention towards the man, watching him huddled under the shelter. The weight of his overcoat registered a moment later. He'd given it to her for some protection, but with the damp clothing, it wasn't going to do her much good.

Smokey grey irises circled crimson pupils, the Half-Drow's unblinking gaze boring upon Jorg's form. He wasn't human. He was something different. She could tell that much. The question was what?

A half-breed like herself? A curse? Or a monster?

She struggled with these thoughts, her expression wary even if Jorg had done this much to help her. He could have left her behind, but it was hard for Taboo to take this at face value.

"Where are we?" her voice croaked out.

 

[Jorg]

"Somewhere on the other side of the River." Jorg did not know this region half as much as he would have liked.

He'd left the Wilds some months ago, and since then had simply traveled West. He knew that they were somewhere over the edge of the Spine, but he'd never seen a map or anything of the sort of this area.

Not that it would have helped much now. "I'm not entirely sure. You didn't want to go towards the mountains."

A shrug rolled over his shoulder.

"The Villagers haven't followed, and I think that probably means we're safe." At least for alittle while.

 

[Taboo]

|| Jorg ||

Safe was a word that didn't quite apply. Not only had she lost her sword, but she was also now wounded in a location that wasn't familiar to her with a stranger. A stranger that her instincts screamed at her that he was more than he seemed.

What was his objective? Why help her?

It was strange. Too strange.

It made her uncomfortable. Making a decision, her right arm swung to pick up the overcoat upon her in an attempt to get up.

"I leave." she told him, relaying her intention to just go on with her way. Nevermind that odds were she wouldn't survive the cold in her damp clothing. It was just easier in her mind to attempt to survive on her own than to depend on anyone else.

 

[Jorg]

Jorg looked at the woman with no small amount of shock, frowning for a few seconds and then shaking his head. "You can do as you please."

He wasn't really one for objecting personal freedoms.

The Mercenary had done his best to keep the woman alive, even though it would have been easier just to let her die. If she now wanted to take that away and just go freeze to death in the woods? Well he'd be annoyed, but he wasn't the type to stop someone from making that decision.

"You'll probably freeze to death." He pointed out to her. "Or the Villagers will catch up."

Another shrug. "But do what you want."

Slowly Jorg leaned forward, grabbing the rabbit and pulling out his knife to peel some of its flesh.

 

[Taboo]

|| Jorg ||

It was a sad story that, unfortunately, was the culmination of several factors. Taboo's distrust, history, prejudice, and a lifetime of being caught in between worlds and never quite accepted made swallowing any sort of kindness without requiring something in turn hard to swallow.

She'd done what she came for in slaying the Wi'tigo, and in that, while she would never gain anything from it other than scorn, it was one pitiful attempt at trying to somehow find a way to fit in. Stupid, reckless, and would place her life in danger, but it was it.

A curt nod, and what was all there was to it. At least, as she struggled to her feet in an attempt to make it out of the shelter.

 

[Jorg]

Jorg watched as Tabbo struggled to her feet, popping a piece of rabbit meat into his mouth as he watched her slowly begin to walk away.

Idiot. Jorg thought to himself as the girl struggled to even get to her feet. It was a pitiful sight in it's own way. She was like a wounded animal who was not entirely sure whether it would be safer to stay or go.

In this case of course...it would be staying.

"Are you really that proud?" He asked before she got away. "Or do you just want to die?"

The latter question wasn't even said out of spite. The monster she'd charged could easily have killed her, and she'd seemed more than eager to rush after it.

Perhaps she did want to die.

 

[Taboo]

|| Jorg ||

The abrupt steel in the tone of his voice froze Taboo's hunched over features. She didn't turn to face him then but instead stood ramrod still.

Pride?

It was never about pride. It was about survival. It was about doing what she could with herself, by herself, because there wasn't going to be anyone else in this world either above the surface or below who would do anything without wanting something in return.

It was no different than her own motives for hunting down the Wi'tigo. It was a way to show the full-bloods that she belonged to. That she could contribute; a while goose-chase perhaps, but it was something.

The irritation, the frustration, just the sheer unfairness made her tremble. Her fists went curling at her sides, and as the quickening breath overtook her, her chest rose and fell with every short, angry breath.

Her dark head went whipping around towards the man, the matted, dark tendrils of her hair hanging limply along the side of her face. The corneas of her eyes seemed to glow a deep, bloody crimson, and her dark lips went pulling back in a snarl.

"No pride. Survive" she spat out in broken common.

"Me. Survive. Me. No you!"

 

[Jorg]

The girl whipped around on the heel of her foot, snarling at him like an animal that had been struck in the face with a gauntlet.

As soon as she whirled around and began to yell he could feel the Wolf in the back of his head. Hairs stood up on his neck, fingers tightened on the piece of meat he was holding. He resisted the urge to let a growl echo from his throat.

"You'll survive like fuck." Jorg growled, raising a hand with a bit of rabbit meat and pointing at her.

The night had just begun, and without a fire the girl wouldn't last much longer than anyone else. She might have been a Drow, but as far as he knew they were still just as warm blooded as he was.

"You lost a shit ton of blood." He pointed to her leg. "And it's only going to get colder."

He grit his teeth. "You won't survive if you go out there."

A fact that annoyed him after he'd carried her over that damned river.

 

[Taboo]

|| Jorg ||

A muscle along the right side of the Half-Drow's jaw gave a decisive tick. Each harsh growl from the man lanced in no certain terms the validity of his statements; Taboo only wished that it could be otherwise. Lips would twist into a thin line, and it was evident that there was a struggle forming upon the woman's face. On what her decision would be.

Parth of her knew that there was truth to his words, but another didn't want to make herself even more vulnerable to anyone she didn't know. Not to mention, he wasn't all that he seemed. That she knew.

Which meant she could stay and risk potentially being hurt or killed or leave and potentially die to exposure. She was damned if she did and damned if she didn't.

After a few seconds of struggling, Taboo finally came to a decision. "Fine. I stay. You stay there!" she demanded, gesturing with a shake of her hand and finger that he should stay on his side of the makeshift shelter.

 

[Jorg]

"Wouldn't dream of moving." Jorg said with all the sarcasm he could muster.

A part of him thought it might have been better to just let the Drow wander off and meet her death. It certainly would have saved him some trouble in the long run and might even have let him go back the village.

Would have been easy enough to fool the morons into thinking he had only been trying to track down where the Drow lived.

Unfortunately for Jorg, that pesky thing called a conscience had kicked in. He didn't want to see the woman dead any more than he wanted his sister on a spit. A frown touched his face. Mallia, does every woman I meet have to be as stubborn as you?

The quick prayer went unanswered of course, Mallia rarely answered.

As Taboo sat herself down on her side of the shelter Jorg put another log onto the fire, then slowly grasped the rabbit with his left hand and offered it wordlessly to the Drow.

 

[Taboo]

|| Jorg ||

Good! At least they were both clear on where they both stood - or sat in this instance, as the Half-Drow went hobbling back to her corner of the make-shift shelter. With an almost defiant, if half aching huff, she sat herself down, only to give a small cry of pain at the way her leg landed. She managed to ruin the bandage, and blood was already seeping through the wound.

Of course, stubborn as Taboo is, she decided to try and fix matters herself. Leaning forward, she did her best to try and fix the bandages, but with how much her hands were trembling due to the cold, it wasn't working very well.

 

[Jorg]

Ah yes.

It seemed that every woman was indeed as stubborn as Mallia was. The Goddess of the Wilds was famed for her refusal of assistance reared it's head in many of the ancient stories. She rejected even the aid of the other gods.

It was her way. Stubborn, strong. "Do you want some help?"

Jorg asked as he continued to waggle the rabbit meat in her face.

She likely wouldn't last very long without food in her belly either. The winter cold was harsh here, and the fire was just about the only warmth for them to have. That and the food anyway.

 

[Taboo]

|| Jorg ||

Piercing crimson pupils seemed to stare daggers at the man, especially the way that he was waggling that bit of roasted meat. The delectable smell of the crisp skin, rendered fat, and slightly charred meat made her nostril twitch. Saliva quickly began to pool in her mouth.

Suddenly she shook her head from side to side as if telling herself that this could also be a trick. "I do." she told him quickly, indicating she could do it herself, the broken common relayed in that accented, husky voice of hers. Although it did not hide the way she kept stealing glances at the rabbit meat in longing, or her bumbling attempts to straighten the bleeding bandages.

Of course, the way Taboo had replied may have been taken as a yes, as the sentence structure of words in the Common tongue was still a bit confusing for the young woman.

 

[Jorg]

Excellent. At least she knew when to finally accept help.

Jorg shifted his weight slightly. The shelter wasn't exactly big enough that the two of them were really all that far apart. He'd built the damned thing in about thirty minutes just block the wind and capture some of the heat from the fire.

"Here." The Mercenary said as he practically shoved some of the rabbit into her shaking hand.

The meat was still warm to the touch, which would hopefully help her. Though of course Jorg didn't know that Taboo would likely be trying to stab him as soon as he reached for the wound. "Easy fix."

He told her as he looked at the bandage.

 

[Taboo]

|| Jorg ||

Taboo was so startled at his sudden movement and the shoving of a rabbit thigh into her hands. Her eyes went wide and her lips when curling back. She had told him that she would do it!

"I do! I DO! I DO!" She yelped out at him, using the rabbit thigh to smack him on the temple with the piece of meat.

Better than the other options. Like tearing his old wounds open so he'd bleed to death.

 

[Jorg]

Jorg eyes popped open as she slapped him with the rabbit and he immediately open his mouth to catch it in his teeth. "Mallia!"

He let off his goddesses name in a quick curse as he recoiled and immediately scrambled back to where he had been sitting in the shelter. He threw up his hands, the rabbit still in his mouth as he shook his head and sighed.

"Blood fucking women." He cursed. "Getting themselves killed and refusing help."

He grumbled. "Death wish and a half."

Jorg chomped down on the rabbit, angrily chewing as she stated at Taboo.

 

[Taboo]

|| Jorg ||

The sudden chiding outburst from Jorg in a name not her own startled the Half-Drow. He then proceeded to gobble up the rabbit thigh, leaving her only with greasy fingers and an anxious wariness.

While some of the words Taboo was not able to really understand, the tone and the few she could made her hackles rise again.

"No, you!" really, now it was turning into some sort of childish back and forth defensive posturing. "You with Wi'tigo! You idiot!"

Because getting in the fight was rather idiotic of him just like the rest of the humans.

 

[Jorg]

Wit'igo. He assumed that was the monster they had fought back in the village. The way she spoke wasn't exactly the easiest to udnerstand, but he pieced it together with the way she jabbed her finger towards him in stark accusation.

"I've fought worse!" Not exactly true.

Jorg wasn't a monster hunter. He plied his trade as a Mercenary. Bandits and the like we're his game and he was fairly good at it. The only time he hunted monsters was when the Wolf wanted to.

Of course, that was almost every time he was transformed.

The beast inside liked to hunt. More than that it liked a challenge. The bigger the monster the happier the Wolf would be when it hunted. The largest had been a Hydra, though that had nearly gotten him killed.

"You're the idiot!" He threw back at her. "It's like you're trying to get killed!"

Jorg scowled. "Or can you somehow survive with heat, water, or food?"

 

[Taboo]

|| Jorg ||

"No, YOU!" Taboo yelped out, bringing her knees up close to her chest only to wince at the pain along her leg again. This was starting to get ridiculous.

"I do. Always!" as if to say she would do these things herself. All her life she had to depend on herself. It was either that or fight for scraps for what she could get. She had been all but a slave to the man who found her, made to assist him with his experiments with magic and the like. Only when he was dead could Taboo finally try to do things for herself.

Yet having the opportunity and knowing how to do that successfully was up to debate. Be told that one is worthless and consistently trying to find some measure of approval had a way of skewing one's perspective. It also didn't provide a reasonable temple on how to make friends or react reasonably within the bounds of what was acceptable in society.

"You too close! Almost cursed!" she shot back, wagging her finger at him, indicating that he could have very well been the Wi'tigo's victim and cursed with the same fate.

 

[Jorg]

Jorg bit off his next comment, the word 'curse' ringing a bit too close to home. He knew what he was, he knew what sat at the core of him; a monster. It was a monster that he had a bargain with, one that he understood better than most.

Yet it was still a monster.

There was never denying that fact. "I'm not that."

Jorg jerked his thumb in the vague direction of the village. He knew that it lay somewhere in the west but...well fuck it didn't really matter at some point. She had clearly sensed that something was off about him, and well...that wasn't something he could avoid.

"I'm something else." He spoke slowly. "Not dangerous."

At least not for another fifteen days.