Free Time (Open!)

[lorki]

"You were going to use Tirael as a shield? Really?"

Sleet stifled her laughter, got her giggles under control and wiped her free paw across her face. SHe grinned widely at Lachie, "not against you, thats for sure." She was a bit annoyed that this beasts had caused her such trouble, she would have rather had a friendly chat with Tirael... he he probably didn't like her so much anymore.

"Really, you can let me go now."

"Oh," she released his habit quickly and brushed a paw over it, "sorry, really. I thought... hehe... I thought you were trying to trap me... heh." She looked from Tirael to Lachie and back to Tirael. Why didn't they find this amusing? It had been an honest misunderstanding, perhaps she was the only one who felt relief, the other two might as well feel worse than before. She looked them over carefully, neither seemed particularly bright and cheery.

She turned herself to Lachie, recalling Tirael's silly little motion to him as she'd swung him around as a live shield. "Another redwaller?" She titled her head slightly, paws going to rest on her hips, "whats your name? Don't tell me you're the professional tea maker." She snickered at her own joke, the day was turning out much better then she'd thought, nothing particularly upset Sleet about this situation... no matter how displeased the other two appeared.

[Shor]

"Another redwaller? Whats your name? Don't tell me you're the professional tea maker." She snickered at her own joke. One of three ways to ruin a joke...

Before he could stop himself, Lachie provided his formal-or-something introduction. "My name is Lachlan Stromness, an' I'm a sssseeee. . ." He trailed off, realizing the mistake of telling her that he was a seer. "Yes, I make tea." Bad lie. He covered up as best he could. "Okay, well, actually, I just pour the tea. Can't quite reach the cabinet to make the tea." He threw in a light chuckle. "'T's not really a job so much as somethin' t'do... Funny, how'd ye know?"

As he spoke, his eyes searched Sleet, looking for something to provide some sort of consolation to Tir. If she really was a killer, and he could prove it, then this situation wouldn't be a total waste. On the other paw, if he did find something, and could prove it, Sleet might begin to suspect, at which point things would become exceedingly dangerous. He should know; he'd played this game before.

[Tirael]

"My name is Lachlan Stromness, an' I'm a sssseeee. . ."

Tirael's fur rose slightly as Lachie strayed very close to telling the truth. Odd, he hadn't expected the sea otter to make such a matter-of-fact introduction, assuming he'd make something up with a bit more...zest. Or, more likely, something completely and ridiculously untrue, yet strangely hilarious.

"Yes, I make tea. Okay, well, actually, I just pour the tea. Can't quite reach the cabinet to make the tea. "'T's not really a job so much as somethin' t'do... Funny, how'd ye know?"

Losing his grip on the 'conversation,' Tirael resumed picking up the wayward articles from his bag. The talk had turned from him; no point in forcing his way back. Besides, he'd never cared for being the center of attention. It just seemed to get him into trouble anyways.

[lorki]

"My name is Lachlan Stromness, an' I'm a sssseeee. . ."

Sleet scowled, she knew what was coming next. The otter had trailed off the way so many creatures did in the midst of a lie. The ferret crossed her arms, her amused smile gone, and waited for him to finish up with his fib.

"Yes, I make tea. Okay, well, actually, I just pour the tea. Can't quite reach the cabinet to make the tea. "'T's not really a job so much as somethin' t'do... Funny, how'd ye know?"

The obvious lie didn't warrant a response, any beast could read what she though to this otter from her expression and the displeased glint to her dark eyes. She glanced for a moment at Tirael, but he had turned back to picking up his spilled things as if nothing had happened and didn't help her at all in figuring out who this new otter was. But whoever he was... whatever he was, he was edging his way onto Sleets bad side.

The interested star he held on her unnerved her, he was trying to figure something out. She'd seen that look before, on beasts that had heard of her, perhaps seen her once or twice and tried to place her, tried to figure out how evil and malicious she was. She swallowed the annoyance, she couldn't be angry with him for wondering... but still it was exceedingly obnoxious.

One ear, the one tattered in half, flicked back. "Ahem," she said shortly, hoping to divert the otters prying eyes. "You may have heard, but my name is Sleet... are you looking for something maybe?" It was a colder greeting than the one she'd given Tirael, this one was much more suspicious.

[Shor]

The ferret was obviously beyond irritated with him. That is not to say that he hadn't expected this -- it was quite normal. As a matter of fact, it was such a commonplace that Lachie actually dismissed it without much thought. He wasn't worried about Sleet's discomfort so much as his own safety, which may very well have been in jeopardy simply by being in her presence. At least, this was the feeling he had about her, which, combined with the odd sense of familiarity, almost always pointed to the former fear being rational.

While his eyes had stopped searching, he was thoroughly inspecting the deeper corners of his mind, specifically memories that included the name or image of Sleetfang (the former was much easier). However, to avoid drawing more suspicion from Sleetfang, he answered her question -- besides, it was only polite. "Aye, I'm lookin' fur a red squirrel, acshully." Lachie's mind picked out the first random beast that came to mind as he searched his memory. "'E's 'bout this. . . er, 'old on. . . this 'igh, or so." -- the wheel-chair-bound otter had had to strain to reach up to the height he knew the random squirrel to be-- "'E 'as a bow an' arrows, patrols aroun' this area. . ." Lachie did not realize how close he came to describing the very beast Sleet had killed earlier -- the one whose blood stained her blades. "But I'm pretty sure--" Lachie stopped short a second time. A look of confusion plastered itself to his face, intended to cover up that of realization.

He remembered.

Before he could stop himself, his right paw came up to the side of his head.

[lorki]

Years of dodging danger, and years of being hit full in the face with it, had given Sleet a keen sense to tell when a beast felt oddly about her. It was the reason Tirael had not threatened her, the reason she'd been docile enough to not backhand him across the face for clumsily pummeling her arm. Thought she wouldn't admit to it friendly, unassuming and slightly shy woodlanders appealed to her. They reminded her of some titch of her own personality buried deep under the fierce persona, the dangerous cliche vermin name. The ones that looked at her and saw a killer, no matter how correct they were, she felt much differently about.

As Lachie went on to describe the squirrel she'd earlier slain within seconds of realizing it existed a cold realization came over her. Something was not right about this, something was... unnatural? Her fur bristled along the back of her neck, down her back to her tail as it normally did when something around her felt awry. What was it...?

This did not feel like a gruesome coincidence. The otters paw moved. "an' I'm a sssseeee. . ." Sleet recalled. And then the expression was on his face and the small silver ferret skipped backwards, nearly trampling Tirael on the way. She'd seen seers before. The one she remembered most vividly was the fox in the horde that had originally adopted her. Days after her arrival she'd stood in the darkness, away from the firelight and watched as the creature had writhed and spasmed on the ground, screaming directions, weather, names. It had flipped around, pointed directly at her and hissed her mothers name, though she'd yet to mention it to any hordebeast.

Sleet feared seers much more than she disliked them. For a beast who lived so dangerously, took such severe risks, Sleets fears seemed ridiculous. Fire, death, being seen though, being found out. But the ferret had kept her past to herself for multiple reasons. The idea that another beasts might know... that this otter might know...

"Stop it!" She barked, reaching down to drag Tirael up and hold him in front of her like a shield again, but this time it was much more out of fear. She took another few quick steps backwards, dragging the unfortunate healer with her.

[Tirael]

If anybeast had actually been paying attention to Tirael, they would have noticed him taking an abnormally long time to gather up his supplies. Not much had spilled when he'd dropped his bag, and they certainly hadn't gone far. He should have been done by the time Lachie stated that he was, in fact, Redwall's tea pourer, but he was still bent on non-interference. He still wasn't completely sure why Lachie had been following him, and given his psychic abilities, it may have been impo--

"Stop it!"

Tirael gasped as he was hauled up and used as a shield (again). After the initial wave of terror, he managed to realize that, once again, he wasn't actually being threatened by any weaponry, and that Sleet was using him to defend against a non-belligerent...otter. Lachie may be incredibly annoying at times, but he was certainly no threat to Sleet.

Right?

For some reason, though, he still felt terrified. He presumed it must have something to do with the fact that he was being used as a shield--it implied that he was in danger. Therefore, while his logical mind repeated that he was going to be perfectly alright, he couldn't force himself to move. He just stood there, the fur on the nape of his neck standing up and the rest of his body stilled with panic.

[[...that sounded weird. Whatever.]]

[Shor]

"Aye, 'er name's, er. . . Sleetsomething. Paw, tail, tooth, fang-- Aye, Sleetfang," came the attempted explanation from Lachina. She was speaking to Barr.

Lachie, eavesdropping nearby, replied out of turn. "Wot'd she do?"

The seer's twin glared at him for being impolite, but answered regardless, aware that her father was preparing to ask the same question. "She murdered some badger -- Badger Lord's nephew, I think..."

---

Lachie first saw Sleet's fur bristle. His eyes then moved to her own, which vibrated minutely, and dilated, though only slightly. He saw what was coming next. . . er, well. . . sort of. He did expect her to hopskip back a step or three, but the second implementation of her healer-shield was a bit out there.

"Stop it!"

Lachie put his paw down. She knew what he was, and it was no longer any use concealing it. Yet, for some reason or another, she was afraid. Of him. Moments ago, she was laughing at the thought of the lame otter posing a threat. It was then that Lachie found it apt to think her mad, the ferret quickly disposing of whatever sanity she had hitherto held to.

Fear wasn't exactly an unusual reaction, as there were a few beasts with a kind of phobia of seers. Lachie thought it nothing strange when encountering such reactions, but he could not certainly say that he understood it. His best guess was that some traumatizing experience prior to the encounter had sunk a grain of fear deeply within the heart of whatever creature whom Lachie happened to be frightening. Besides, it was an uncomfortable prospect; that a beast could but look into one's eyes, and know his secrets.

However, as close as he could place his assumption concerning the source of the irrational fear (Lachie was most certainly nothing to be afraid of) the otter was nevertheless unable to bring to mind a single course of action that wouldn't result in anything less than somebeast's probable death.

But another thought was crossing his mind at that moment. Sleet's fur had bristled at the wrong time. She'd been showing signs of alarm while Lachie was describing a beast he'd picked randomly from memory. But somehow, he'd come far too close to revealing something, though what it was, he couldn't be certain. . . No, wait. . . His mind began to piece everything together at a rapid pace.

Lachie realized that he'd just described the squirrel whom Sleet had probably killed recently -- there would be no other reason to clean her weapons. She probably wouldn't remember everybeast she'd killed, so it was most likely the last beast she'd killed. (Though this strays from the path: it is a sickening feeling, remembering a stranger who, days after sighting him, would be murdered.) Her realization led to the next, that is, that Lachlan was a seer, and this finally triggered some previously hidden fear that then provoked her to break out the healer-shield a second time.

Nice to know what was going on.

Deciding that whatever he did, it would end poorly, Lachie made yet another mistake -- he opened his mouth. "So why, exactly, did ye kill the Badger Lord's nephew? He kill yore family or something?" Lachie spoke out of anger, his voice dripping with mock-interest. Having lived on the West Coast, he knew three of the badgers involved, and had befriended one -- the Stromness name wasn't exactly an obscure one.

---

((Eh. Could've been better.))

[lorki]

As Tirael froze in fear a fleeting feeling of grief flowed through her. It was gone just as quickly as it had come, she couldn't worry about how this otter felt, not right now. Besides, he wasn't in any real danger- he'd figured that out on his own. But she, as far as Sleet was concerned, was in serious danger. She avoided Seers like the plague but had heard from others that her name had come up on the mouths of a few of them. She hated it.

Holding tightly to Tirael, the silver ferret steadied herself and took the chance to inhale. She must not panic, weakness was the last thing she ought to show at this time. Fear pumped through Sleets veins like life, it was constant and cold, she never felt a moment without it- only times when it was stronger and weaker. It was always there, circumstance didn't matter. She could battle it down and hide it, and... well do something to stop this.

"So why, exactly, did ye kill the Badger Lord's nephew? He kill yore family or something?"


No. One of her paws left Tirael's habit and the other loosened it's hold, she placed the free paw on her chest. It felt as if ice had blossomed out from her heart and was inching its way through her blood and reaching out the grip the rest of her body. How dare he? Her head lowered, her eyes wide in shock.

The horrified feeling began slinking away, the resentful and stubborn ferret pushed it back and replaced it with boiling rage. Her eyes darkened, the freezing burn in her chest was replaced with a sharp heat. She wanted to kill that seer, she should kill him... why in hellsteeth did he have to look so pathetic?

The anger controlled the pain and the fear, it always did, the one thing she had left to depend. Anger was loyal. Her throat stung as she raised her head and let go of Tirael. She set her paws out carefully and slowly, steadily moved out from behind him and glared at the Seer.

"How dare you?" her voice was low, growling with rage and hinting dangerously as later intentions. "How dare you ask that, like it doesn't matter. Like I was wrong? How dare you even look at me. You, you pathetic excuse for a living creature, how dare you think you can read my life. How dare you try to even figure me out." Bright fangs snarled, edging closer to Lachie as she gained not courage, but more viciousness. "Do you want to know what you will find, you ignorant stupid otter? You'll find exactly what you want to find, because you won't look for anything else, will you?" She drew a knife, straightened up and stood still, only a few steps from Lachie.

"If I so much as suspect you are trying to figure out even my favorite food, otter, I swear I will slice you into pieces. You stay out of my head or I'm going to put this," she twirled the knife in one paw, "into yours."

[Tirael]

"So why, exactly, did ye kill the Badger Lord's nephew? He kill yore family or something?"

Tirael felt his heart skip a beat. She'd...what? Cautiously, fearfully, he turned his head slightly to look at Sleet; she was looking away, apparently just as shocked as he, if for a different reason. But...but we were talking...she wasn't... He felt sick, and more important, he felt upset. Angry.

Angry at having this kept from him, angry that he'd allowed himself to slip into conversation with a murderer that had nearly killed him, and anger at Lachie. Yes, at Lachie, for choosing now to antagonize Sleet, for frightening her to the point where she would use Tirael as a shield, for apparently caring more about this little vendetta than about the proximity of Sleet's knives to a friend's back. Even if the healer had known that the Stromness name wasn't an obscure one, it wouldn't have mattered to him; his name was exceptionally obscure, and it wasn't fair for Lachie to jeopardize his life for this. It was wrong.

All at once he felt the ferret's paws letting go, and the young otter stumbled out of the way. Trying to rid himself of the feeling that danger was directly behind him, he backed up against a tree, trying to calm himself. Sleet was threatening Lachie, pulling out a blade slowly, coldly. As much as he wanted to let the wheelchair-bound seer know exactly how he felt, Tirael's guilt began to set in, particularly about having to tell Barr he no longer had a son.

Lachie wasn't exactly on Tirael's good side anymore, but he still respected Barr...

"You stay out of my head or I'm going to put this into yours."

"N-no you're not..." Tirael glanced down at the thick branch held in his paws, wondering what exactly was possessing him right now. Certainly not any logical part of his mind, that was for certain.

[theknife]

Vuagu Sharpthought walked through the cold grey woods of Mossflower, stopping now and then to look at the cloudy sky and mutter a few choice words. Aside from that, all was silent, everything. Vuagu had his cape pulled across his chest as usual, but it did little to ward of the biting cold. Suddenly, a trill of birdsong pierced the silence like a bolt of lighting. Vuagu froze in his tracks, his hand went for his dagger. All was silent. Vuagu calmed, and continued his slow walk. He hated the bird who had let out its song in the quiet. Why? Because he did. Vuagu hated everything. The bird had done nothing. He hated it. He hated the silence. He hated the cold. Vuagu hated everything. Vuagu shuttered as these thought passed through and through his head. He hated them too. He hated himself for hating.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a conversation ahead. It sounded like several beasts talking, none to loud, but some angry. He hated the beasts who made the noise. Vuagu... was hate. Vuagu shook himself to rid of his thoughts, as a dog shakes itself to rid its fur of water. A few steps and he would be in the clearing where the beasts stood. He braced himself, took a deep breath, and entered the clearing. His eyes darted from beast to beast, and his quick mind took in everything. When he was done, he almost laughed! A female ferret, the only dangerous looking one of the bunch, was threatening an otter in a wheelchair. Another otter, a wimpy looking one at that, was threatening her with a stick! Still he held back the stream of chortles that threatened to burst from him any second. Struggling to control himself, he spoke. "Top of the mid-afternoon hour to all of you fine and rational beasts," he said in his difficult to understand way, "Vuagu Sharpthough is the manner in which I am named, and you?" He finished this prattle with a bow and a smile, though his mind was whirring like a windmill at full tilt, thinking of what to say next.

[Shor]

((Sorry for the quality. I lost half of my sleeping time this morning, and my brain is fuzzy.))


"If I so much as suspect you are trying to figure out even my favorite food, otter, I swear I will slice you into pieces. You stay out of my head or I'm going to put this," she twirled the knife in one paw, "into yours."

Lachie, although angry, did notice his previous mistake of antagonizing Sleet further. In all honesty, he couldn't help himself; it was difficult to keep his mouth shut, especially when angry. No, he wasn't all that angry, really (he hardly knew the Badger Lord's nephew), but then, with Lachie, it didn't take much.

"N-no you're not..."

Lachie raised an eyebrow at Tir. The healer didn't seem like the threatening type. But of course, neither did Lachie.

The sea otter quite wanted to get back at the ferret, but frankly, that wasn't possible. Well, technically, it was, but not without suffering the consequences, which, unfortunately, were rather. . . sharp. The ferret wasn't allowing him the opportunity to "see" anything, and this left him little choice other than to leave, and devise a plan to get back at her later.

It was at the very moment, that is, when the previous thought passed through Lachie's mind, that a random stranger intruded on the scene, bursting into a small fit of laughter. . . Weird. . .

"Top of the mid-afternoon hour to all of you fine and rational beasts. Vuagu Sharpthough is the manner in which I am named, and you?"

Lachie replied immediately, suppressing a laughter of his own. "Greetings, Mr. Wordy McVerbosity. My name is Tirael Stromness, and this," he gestured to the true Tirael, "is m y associate, John Hollabackatcha." Around the time that Tirael would have most likely opened his mouth to interject, the sea otter continued. "Y'see, I'm a psychic." (It seemed that he was the only one around that wasn't at all phased by the spontaneous arrival of the stoat.)

[lorki]

"N-no you're not..."

"yeah?" She glanced back at Tirael, "probably not, he looks too stickin' pathetic to kill, you're right." And she hadn't planned to kill Lachie, she couldn't make herself do that, Sleet had yet to kill an unarmed beast... intentionally. And she had killed incapacitated creatures but she didn't like it much... and only when they seriously deserved it.

The moment of calm had brought her back down, anger still surged though her and chaos still flooded her mind more than anything else but she'd regained some sense of understanding of the situation. Sleet, having felt nearly every deep emotion along the spectrum, didn't have a probably with narcissism. She understood well the way another beast felt, she could read emotions and relate to most, she simply chose to not respond usually. Their fear may feed hers, their anger as well, but she was indifferent to offer any other response. Tirael was mortified... Lachie, he seemed to have only shut up out of desire to live, smug little brat.

While anger faded the emotions Sleet had managed to bury under it became heavier in her gut. She let out a deep breath and stepped away from Lachie, letting her paw fall slightly. She couldn't handle so much panic, it wore on her more than any other feeling, mental of physical. She was about to reinforce her threat with some choice words... but something moved at the edge of her vision.

"Top of the mid-afternoon hour to all of you fine and rational beasts. Vuagu Sharpthough is the manner in which I am named, and you?"

What? Oh how Sleet despised being bothered by a newcomer at a time like this, she couldn't handle a crowd, not now. This may be the last straw... Her whiskers twitched in annoyance.

"Greetings, Mr. Wordy McVerbosity. My name is Tirael Stromness, and this," he gestured to the true Tirael, "is m y associate, John Hollabackatcha." Around the time that Tirael would have most likely opened his mouth to interject, the sea otter continued. "Y'see, I'm a psychic."

Nope- that was the last straw.

"Ugh." Heat flushed Sleet's face, rage tinted sorrow still blasted with adrenaline through her veins, she was not well prepared to tolerate obnoxious responses, smug otters and empty tree-branch threats. Thoughts that she refused to recognize knocked at the back of her mind. Shuddering slightly, the gray ferret glanced again at Tirael, she's half enjoyed his presence while it had lasted positively... certainly that 'friendship' was over. She bent and gathered one of her forgotten knives off the ground and a tied bundle of herbs Tirael had missed.

"Here," she muttered, shoving the dried plant into Tirael's chest and sheathing the little throwing knife. She brushed past him, hoisted her pack over one shoulder and took a swift step away from the growing group without so much as a recognition towards the newcomer. As she began to move away one of her paws rose to press gently against her face as if checking that she still existed in the correct form. Against all wishes, she did.

[Tirael]

"Yeah?" Sleet glanced back at Tirael, "Probably not, he looks too stickin' pathetic to kill, you're right."

When Sleet turned to look at him, Tirael lowered the stick he'd been holding, feeling rather foolish. He knew full well he wouldn't have had the guts to swing it at her; and even if he had, he probably wouldn't have done much damage anyways. Apparently, this was the downside of spending your entire life in a pacifist and sheltered abbey.

"Top of the mid-afternoon hour to all of you fine and rational beasts."

"Greetings, Mr. Wordy McVerbosity. My name is Tirael Stromness, and this is my associate, John Hollabackatcha."

Turning to look at Lachie, "John" frowned in a mixture of annoyance and confusion. This was not the way to get back on his good side.

"Y'see, I'm a psychic."

Tirael was by now very bewildered, so he simply looked on with an expression of helpless displeasure. He had been enjoying a nice, simple conversation with a friendly stranger just a few minutes ago. How exactly had he ended up here, he had no idea, but it was very easy to blame Lachie, and he was rapidly running out of reasons not to.

"Here."

Tirael instinctively moved his paws up to his chest to catch the bundle Sleet thrust at him. A glance at it revealed it to be a bundle of bittersweet. How...fitting. Stuffing it into his bag, the healer offered Vuagu a grin, then shot Lachie a dirty look. "See you, LACHLAN." he said pointedly before heading off after Sleet. "Wait!" he called.

[Shor]

"See you, LACHLAN."

Lachie offered a smirk as acknowledgement. It appeared that it was time to leave. The seer nodded a farewell to Vuagu, and began wheeling back the way he'd come.

On the one paw, Lachlan felt horrible for pushing his way onto Tirael's bad side (and Sleet's, of course, but she was a killer). He'd met the healer a few days prior, and it seemed that the two might have a chance to be somewhat good friends. Unfortunately, on account of Lachie's immature behaviour, that wouldn't happen any time soon.

On the other paw. . . thought Lachlan, as he drew farther away from the killer and healer. I do have this. . . The otter turned over his paw, revealing a well-made knife, innumerable intricate designs etched onto its handle -- many more onto the blade. This was his key to catching Sleet.

"If there's one thing ye need to know about the weapons of vermin," Barr told the ottertwins, his single eye fixed steadily on their own. "It's that they're almost always stolen--"

One part of Lachie's mind knew that this was among the lesser facts on the scale of importance, but the other dismissed this. He needed to focus on finding the blade's true owner.

He stopped for a moment, and shook his head at the situation. "That was impossibly easy," he said. It was impressive, that is, the ease with which he'd stolen the knife. All it had taken was a distraction; while Sleet's fear of Lachie's ability was helpful, it was Vuagu's entrance that had drawn the most attention, though the length of time exceeded no more than a second. Bes--

Lachie stopped again, and realized that he'd accidentally spoken aloud. Hoping that he wasn't still within earshot of Sleet, he continued through the woods, but faster, this time.

[theknife]

(Sorry its not the best. Posted really late.)

"Greetings, Mr. Wordy McVerbosity. My name is Tirael Stromness, and this is I disagreeociate, John Hollabackatcha."

Vuagu smiled at the otter’s comments on his speech and names that seemed completely made up. It was strange that the otter wasn't surprised by his arrival...

"Y'see, I'm a psychic."

Vuagu jumped a little at this comment, but his question was answered. He knew a lot about seers, he had impersonated one for several years. Vuagu opened his mouth to spew another set of mismatched words when Sleet interrupted.

"Here."

She thrust a bundle on Tirael and headed away from the group. Vuagu shrugged and snickered. A weak mind. His favorite. He saw the Tirael stuff the bundle in his bag. Then Tirael grinned at Vuagu, an action he was not used to comeing his way. Vuagu was thrown of for a moment, but remembered himself just in time to smile back. Then Tirael glared at Lachie saying...

"See you, LACHLAN."

Then he headed after Sleet, shouting to her. Vuagu turned to Lachie, who appeared to be looking at a dagger. Then Lachie started away from Sleet and Tirael. Vuagu followed him. It wasn't hard for him too keep up, seeing as Lachie was in a wheelchair. Vuagu didn't let Sleet and Tirael out of his sight though. It wasn't smart to turn you back on any-beast. "Pray tell," started Vuagu in his rambling manner, "what is it that you are gazing upon?" Vuagu struggled to talk in a more easy to understand way. He wasn't trying to confuse right now.

[lorki]

Blood pounded in her hears, muffling the sounds that followed her as she turned her back away from them. One paw still pressed against her cheek, partially to distract herself with some form of touch... Sleet didn't touch anyone anymore... she shook her head on instinct to dislodge the angsty thought. More like, she was trying to resist the growing desire to rip her face off, how a simple conversation could become so frustrating in such a short time still dazzled her, despite how many times it had occurred. To think the smallest attempt on her part to be civil could blow up into such a-

"Wait!"

She froze as the voice penetrated her rushing thoughts and the angry buzz in her ears. Immediately she felt chilled, until she realized that it wasn't the seer following her, it was his friend... oh she'd forgotten his name is all the chaos... Tir... something. A healer... Tirael, that was it. Not a threat, in fact quite the opposite, but she hadn't expected a follower.

She turned around, her head held at a tilt hinting at her inner curiosity. What was his motive now? Anger at his seer friend perhaps? Sleet pulled her paw away from her face finally, considering how awkward it might appear. "Oh," her eyes flicked over him, more or less the same as he'd been before... lacking a tree branch. "You didn't come after me to bludgeon me with a stick?" She asked dryly, "Sweet of you."

[Tirael]

"Oh."

Catching his breath, Tirael took on a bit of a bemused expression as he saw Sleet holding her face. Apparently she noticed it, too, because she dropped the paw a few moments after he looked at it.

Oh no...

...maybe, somehow, she'd gotten hurt in the little explosion of interaction? No, that made no sense, nobody had even touched her. Of course, she had touched him twice in the form of frantic grabbing and cowering, which had made almost as much no sense. Come to think of it, that made no sense either.

Nice to at least establish a pattern.

"You didn't come after me to bludgeon me with a stick?" She asked dryly, "Sweet of you."

Shooting her a glance that mixed ire and embarrassment, Tirael decided it would be best if he looked in a different direction. First looking left, then deciding on down, he said, "No, I'm not here to...y'know, the stick...but I just...it didn't seem...right." Looking up at her, he tried to show how sorry he felt, since saying it never seemed sincere. "It wasn't right. I-I know you probably don't care, but I really am sorry about all that...and I can't blame it all on Lachie, however much of an idiot he..." He trailed off, trying to keep himself from rambling and potentially just annoying Sleet more.

He resisted the temptation to bite his lip and asked, "Are you...uh?" Unsure of what word to complete that with, he (without realizing it) bit his lip anyways and looked hopefully at her.

[theknife]

(Is it my turn? Because Shor never answered my character.)