Out in the Cold [OPEN!]

[.:Fawn:.]

There was nothing quite as homely as hot mulled nettle ale on a very cold winter morning. It was late into the season, but a storm blown down from a wickedly icy north had left a heavy layer of frost and several inches of snow onto the enormous mountain stronghold. It was the kind of cold morning that would have frozen a poorbeast solid had the nightwatchers been attended to with low-burning fires and a frequent change into warm, well-insulated clothes to keep the chill out.

Braythe the Savage would have felt pity for whatever beast was out there without the kindness and care of a well-trained regiment to keep you warm, but there was too much on his mind for his thoughts to stretch to those far away, unknown creatures. As unusual as it was, for Braythe to spend so much time thinking rather than eating, training or forging a lovely and lethal new weapon, it wasn't without very good reason.

"I have been a slave of Obsidious Bane since I was a dibbun, him and his damned devil-horde have ruined my country, my Clan and everything I've ever cared about! So before any of you long-ears and your big hulking Badger Lord go storming the stronghold, you'd better wait until I catch up, because that blackhearted vermin's throat is MINE for the tearing!"

The violent, vehement words of the otter still recovering in the infirmary had been on an endless, dramatic loop inside the Badger Lord's head, even when he took to the outdoors, not at all bothered by the ferociously frigid blast of wind that buffed the white badger's coarse, alabaster fur, searing his small bronze eyes and blowing against the gray wolf pelt he wore for a cloak. This current time of year reminded Braythe enough of home that he didn't find it so unbearable to be here at Salamandastron as he had so a few months back; still getting used to his position, being surrounded by so much snow and ice and naked trees, frozen sea-spray and nippy northern winds helped put him at ease.

Well, he should've been at ease if thoughts of Obsidious Bane and his supposed devil-horde weren't plaguing his mind like a bad piece of fruit to his stomach; having already sent out a small scouting unit to confirm the otter's story and, if proven true, get a better grip for themselves on the situation at hand, Braythe wasn't left with much to do but sort through his own thoughts. The otter's words, practically spat at them, brought back unpleasant memories of his own enslavement, of the death of his own family, and of the lengths he had gone to, the wounds, both emotional and physical, that he had suffered all to seek revenge upon Rurik the Savage. Braythe wasn't normally the empathetic type, but when he was staring at an otter version of what he himself had been before he'd become Badger Lord, heck, even before he had become a Vermin Hunter by profession, Braythe couldn't help but relate to the plight of Damon the Warhound.

Clutching the flask of hot ale, the white badger sat down on the wide stump of an aspen about half a mile out from the front doors of Salamandastron, taking the opportunity to have a quiet morning of contemplation (which was unlike him, but he'd grown rather...reflective ever since Victoire had set course for Redwall Abbey) before his usual brash manner and afternoon history lesson, his current forge projects and a discussion of Obsidious Bane with the higher-ups of Salamandastron forced this rare moment of peace right back underground until spring.

He was certainly a sight, sitting out here with his back to the mountain and his eyes into the woodlands, still thick and almost cluttered despite the bareness of the trees and snow-laden bushes and shrubbery, his bronze eyes seeming to see beyond the vegetation and into the farthest reaches of the Northern Coast, perhaps replaying the young otter's escape with a little help from his imagination. Sporting a very handsome wolf-pelt cloak overtop an ultramarine woven tunic of a thick, sturdy fabric, the badger lord was unarmed save for an enormous, handmade crossbow that rested against the side of the stump, the lethal end buried in the snow, his wide shoulders collecting small hills of flakes, signifying just how long he'd been sitting out here.

The Badger Lord's left ear swiveled at the sound of someone approaching, his broad white muzzle lifting to sniff the air, small bronze eyes as sharp as the weapons he forged.
A low rumbling growl spilled from the badger's jaws, but that was his usual method of speaking, edged with a little more of a growl than preferred, at least until the approaching beast had identified themselves.

"Who goes there?"

Whoever they were, they were doing a lousy job of trying to sneak up on him - however, Braythe had learned that his first instincts, which were telling him he was surrounded by foe and not friend, were usually false. It was probably one of the hares come to check on their wayward mountain lord - and if it wasn't, well... Who they were and what they wanted would determine if Braythe was going to be in a good mood or not.

[Tulian Solum]

Tromping merrily through the snow of the day a certain white ferret tried to do a little whistle, but then quickly remembered that he had never really learned how. Shrugging a little the ferret continued to move down the coast away from the stuffy confines of the mountain. His new winter coat of white fur doing much to keep him warm as the snow slowly fell in a thin blanket to lay on the large bed already down.

The mountain sure was a nice place to stay in this kind of weather, but when you had been confined to a bed in it for the last season and a half any excuse to get up and move about was a welcome change to the formula. Besides, once his bones in his foot had healed enough to allow movement he would have to get up and move around a little to try and get some strength back into the appendage if he wanted to be able to travel and fight at full strength again.

Brushing some snow off his shoulder Seig continued down the coast at a fast walk, even going as far as to roll his sleeves up to his elbows to help cool his arms off a little. This kind of weather reminded him in a good way of the frozen north that he had left all those years ago...and he noted that he was starting to miss it less and less as time passed. I mean sure he he missed his family but after so much time gone his brain had mostly convinced him that like him they had probably moved on and he probably should as well. But was that right? Should he just so easily give up on the..

"Who goes there?"

Managing to stop himself before he collided with the large mound of snow that was the Badger Lord Braythe Seig stopped himself from snapping to attention and offering a quick sir. Blinking a little he confirmed to himself that it was indeed the large badger before slowly moving to his side and crunching down into the snow beside him.

"Just Seig Lord Braythe...Nice whether isn't it? Just like back home."

Crossing his legs and sitting up a little straighter Seig glanced at where the large badger had been facing before looking off in that direction himself. The woods? Maybe the badger was thinking of travel, or the rumor that the younger hares had been talking about with that wounded otter in the sick bay about a warlord.

Pursing his fingers a little as he looked out into the snowy world Seig hummed. It wouldn't be the first time that a warlord had come here, he had heard many tales of all the 'vermin' overlords that had come to this land trying to claim something and never really getting anywhere with that plan. But often the tales held that the warlord was the one that made his presence known, not something here to give them early warning.

Would that make it easier to rally a defense? Humming a little again Seig scratched his forearms and rolled his sleeves up a little more.

(Hope its alright, been ages since I've done a proper post.)

[.:Fawn:.]

"Just Seig Lord Braythe...Nice whether isn't it? Just like back home."

There were two reactions the giant white badger had to being referred to as Lord Braythe by a ferret wearing armor; the first was a blank kind of astonishment that came with the preposterous suddenly becoming reality. The second was something more along the lines of feeling his skin crawl beneath his fur. Brooding now, the polar-bearish creature eyed Seig as though looking for a really good reason to roll him into a snowball and toss him out to sea.

Unfortunately for Braythe (and fortunately for the ferret), the warlord could find no such reasons. Snorting a great white cloud of frost in front of his own face, the stump groaned beneath the badger's weight as he shifted, muzzle wrinkled into a frown.
"Nice? Huh! This is nothing; in the Lands of Ice and Snow, the snow would be up to your waist, ferret. You'd need a boat just to get from one place to the next." Boasting, it was a gross over-exaggeration of the winters up north, which were, admittedly, brutal compared to a couple of inches that the fire mountain had just gotten.

Setting the flask in his lap, the badger cracked the knuckles on both paws, the noise loud enough to startle a bird from it's nest and knock a plod of snow off a tree limb with a wet 'thud'. It wasn't his intention to intimidate their...ferret...guest (or maybe it was), it was a habit more than anything, the white creature standing up and taking the gray wolf cloak with him. He turned to address Seig, bronze eyes gleaming like forgelight as he spat out half-awkward, half-mildly-interested;
"How's the foot?"

There was a part of him, a rebellious, vermin-loathing part of him that more or less did not care if Seig had broken a foot, some ribs or just altogether bit the dust, and then there was a small, tiny, sensible part of him that remembered the kindly healer mouse Vicky. Perhaps by talking with Seig, a patient of Vicky's, he wouldn't feel such a crushing emptiness in the white mouse's absence.

[Tulian Solum]

Raising a eyebrow Seig looked to the side at the large badger as he ranted and raved about the winters in the north. Being from the north himself; not in the exact same area as the badger but near enough to have heard all the tales of destruction he had brought, Seig smiled a little. Thankfully over his winter stay in the fortress Seig had gotten over his fear of the badger legend of White Death. Sure he was dangerous, but so was he, and Braythe just really wanted to defend his mountain home...well at least mostly. Seig could never be sure if those stares were just like the ones on the first day when he was being tested for throwing material out to the sea.

Oh, right, the Badger had spoken about the weather, need to stop being so scatterbrained around him Seig; "Uh...That seems a bit excessive Braythe. I can only remember one winter like that back home. Though maybe it was worse on ground level, Tauril is on a plateau an' all." Scratching his chin Seig looked back around at the snowy beach and tree line off in the distance. It was actually quiet nice. There wasn't bone chilling wind to add to the cold just the beauty of the light snow. But now that he was sitting down the cold was starting to creep up on him, so he rolled his sleeves back down as Braythe stood up and started to pace.

Twitching his ears at the loud knuckle cracking Seig noted that it almost sounded like spear shafts snapping, but he still managed to keep his smile as the Badger slowly turned to him. Ah...he had been expecting that question for awhile. While he could try to convince himself that Braythe cared about he damage he caused the badgers face and tone clearly said the opposite.

Probably waiting for the first chance he gets to throw me out of those doors...oh hellgates...

Taking a breath he replied, though apprehension could be clearly heard in his tone. "Much better after your healers, Black and Victiore, saw to it. I actually didn't expect to recover this fast, your healers are obviously very skilled." Gesturing back up the beach to the mountain he smiled back at Braythe as he stuck his legs out from his seated position before quickly bringing them back in case the badger started to walk around again. "I was able to make it down here without too much pain, and with a little more rest and time I should be back to normal, sir."

[Turegk]

Turegk settled into the cover of a large oak tree and fluffed his feathers up for warmth. It was cold enough that he didn’t want to be flying at his usual altitude, and flying low would mean being buffeted by wind and updrafts every second. He finally decided to hole up in the tree cover and wait out the worst of the weather. He had eaten a pigeon not long ago, so he was completely ready to go. Except for the weather, of course.

Alas, to fly.

Suddenly there was a series of loud cracks. With his heightened sense of hearing, Turegk cringed. The cracks managed to startle a bird into the air in front of him. The Golden Eagle’s thoughts turned momentarily to pursuit, but he soon returned to the source of the cracking. His golden-brown eyes focused in on the ferret and the badger. Just now the sound of the cracking had stopped reverberating through his ears.

Groundbeasts, always so loud… Turegk thought although, they do make easy meals that way…

Thoughts of the cracking gone, Turegk was happy to finally see a sign of civilization, no matter how the current company looked. He hopped out of the trees and spread his massive wings wide, propelling himself into the air with a massive puff of snow. He flew the short distance and landed nearby.
“Did one of you gentlemen make that horrid cracking sound?” Turegk asked in his most civil landbeast voice. He only hoped he had chosen the correct tongue to speak with them.

His talons dug into the frozen ground, assisted by the overlapping of the steel as he waited for an answer.

[.:Fawn:.]

"Uh...That seems a bit excessive Braythe. I can only remember one winter like that back home. Though maybe it was worse on ground level, Tauril is on a plateau an' all."

The white badger, who had thus far been doing his best to relax somewhat in the presence of a creature he wanted nothing more than to throw like a broken boomerang, felt a muscle in his jaw suddenly tic at being addressed so casually as Braythe.

No one called him just 'Braythe'. Not even Vicky ever called him just Braythe. Before he could fly into a cold, indignant temper at the words that came out of Seig's mouth, the ferret once more brought up the subject of the Salamandastron Healers - Doctor Azryel Black and Victoire Fawn, mere mention of the name soothing his temper just a tad.

Before a great flutter of wings and the sound if iron talons sinking several inches into the snow distracted his lordship once more.

“Did one of you gentlemen make that horrid cracking sound?”

Braythe gawked at Turegk stupidly; he had to admit, his first instinct was to stab the eagle with a sharp stick, considering he and their...avian guest weren't exactly friends (in terms of species, he didn't know this one in particular). Suddenly conscious of the order of the food chain, Braythe glanced at the ferret, and felt the fur along his spine bristle with his own inner revulsion; can't let the ferret get eaten. Vicky'd be... Yeah he didn't want to think about it. Reaching one paw over to Seig, he made as though to shove the armored fellow behind him in an aggressive though protective manner.
Ugh.

He was gonna hate himself for this later.

Drawing a great gust of air into his lungs, the badger lord straightened, and made a display of cracking his knuckles again, though it produced a far less obnoxious sound given that a majority had already been cracked a few seconds prior.
"What's it to ye, feather brain?" Growled Braythe; it was completely beyond his capacity for understanding why an enormous golden eagle would be talking to them... so civilly, too.

Oh. The badger blinked, bronze eyes narrowing.

It must be a trap.

[Tulian Solum]

Tilting his head a little as he watched Braythe's expression change back and fourth Seig was able to hold in his smile at the large face moving around like that. It was sometimes difficult to remember that a face that large and scarred was able to make so many diverse expressions. If only the badger lord like children, he would be able to amuse them easily with a face like that. But, probably wisely, Seig didn't voice any of his interior thoughts and managed to keep his face neutral.

This farce however was immediately defeated by the HUGE eagles arrival on the snow covered coast. Though the combined force of shock, awe, and the gust of wind the eagle brought down Seig fell onto his back a slid a few feet back. Blinking a few times Seig raised his head a little to make sure that it was actually a eagle and not Lord Braythe smacking him across the head. Quickly starting to get to his feet, to fight or run he didn't know, but being on his feet was better than prone. But then again he didn't' have any equipment...the hares had it all back at the mountain. Well, at least he wouldn't be weighed down with anything when it came time to run.

But before he was able to put this plan into motion Braythe reached back and shoved him behind him. Offing a little as he was tossed onto his back again Seig frowned a bit. Sitting up he looked at the back of Braythe and the eagles head just visible over the badgers. Was Braythe trying to protect him? Or was he trying to save him as some kind of plan B in case he needed to run?...No time for that now, the eagle is the problem now.

Slowly getting back to his feet, in case anything else wanted to knock him flat today, Seig rolled his eyes a little at the badger lords response to the Eagle. Leaning out a little so the Eagle could see him easier he also took a breath and gave a slightly shaky salute.

"Good day Sir Sky Flyer, are the winds treating you fairly today?"

He was falling back on the very brief lessons he had received back home in relations to birds of prey, which mainly resorted to do everything you can to appear polite as they can kill you easier than almost anything...Come on Seig stay calm, there's only two possibly murderous giants here and you with nowhere to go...Hellgates...again.

[Turegk]

Turegk watched the badger sweep the ferret behind him and stifled a chuckle. The action was commendable, considering the usual order his avian brethren followed. The eagle cringed involuntarily when the badger cracked its knuckles again, not loudly this time, but it was the motion itself.

"What's it to ye, feather brain?"

Turegk freed his claws from the ground with a quick flap of his wings, and settled into a more comfortable, (and ready) position.
“By ‘feather brain’ you mean to insult me. So far, my ‘feathered brain’ appears to be working better than your ‘furred brain’.” Turegk quipped.
The eagles predatory eyes quickly flashed to the badger’s side as the ferret leaned out.

"Good day Sir Sky Flyer, are the winds treating you fairly today?"

Turegk cocked his head back in surprise at the ferret’s speaking. It almost exactly mirrored typical addresses on his home island.
Someone’s dealt with birds before. Turegk thought.

“The winds treat me fairly but the weather is not ripe for flight today.” Turegk responded “You appear much more civil that your… Lacking compatriot.”

Turegk scraped his talons against the frozen dirt and flexed them, looking down at his balled up claws thoughtfully.
“I was hoping to find a place to wait out this storm.” Turegk inquired “The woods are proving rather… Loud today.” The eagle looked back at the badger.

“I your friend is safe with me. And I find badger to be tough and stringy” Turegk said humorously to the badger. "I don't care much for the others of his species, but he seems altogether more amniable than you."

[.:Fawn:.]

Why did things have to grow so darn complicated? Aw Hellgates! Braythe longed to go back to the days where all ferrets were bad ferrets, and did not address him as 'My Lord', and none of those feathery windbags with claws had a broader vocabulary than he did. Braythe had no idea what a 'compatriot' was, but he sure as snails wasn't asking.

“I your friend is safe with me. And I find badger to be tough and stringy."

"He's not my friend!" Braythe snapped, as though the very idea horrified him, "I'm just in charge o'him that's all. Don't want him kill'd." The indignant volume at which he spoke lessened at the end into a begrudging grumble; yeah he was having a hard time believing he'd spoken those words too.

At mention of a place to stay, however, the great white badger shook his head, small ears flattening. "It won't be here, eagle! We've already had one golden eagle tear in 'ter my hares, ye won't be welcome here!" Even if the Long Patrol fighting force hadn't just dealt with an eagle problem Turegk would likely be unable to stay here; Braythe was not the most sensitive or socially conscious of creatures, but even he knew that hares and a golden eagle was a bad mix, no matter how cilized one was. Braythe would have felt actually guilty for subjecting them to the iron-taloned behemoth in front of himself and Seig; it was bad enough he'd broke the ferret's foot, let the ferret stay, and was somewhat of a....lacking badger lord. It wouldn't be very kind of him to the hares who looked up to him and he was obligated to take care of to let one of their 'natural predators' right into the bloody mess hall!

Rubbing the bridge of his nose with one giant paw, Braythe seemed to be trying not to explode; calm yer self, Braythe. Calm yer self. This'll all make sense later.

It would make even MORE sense if he had Vicky here to tell him what to do! Blast that mouse! Why did she have to leave him on this mountain with 'amniable ferrets' and civilized golden eagles? He'd take the fierce vermin corsairs and the typical run-of-the-mill scum any day. "How'd you learn to talk like that?" Braythe asked of the armored weasel at his side; one would think he'd rather ask their avian guest that same question, but Braythe actually found it more of a marvel for a ferret to know a pleasant form of address to a golden eagle than for a golden eagle to speak in better sentences than most of his hares.

Besides, like dealing with unicorns or leprechauns or some such wishy-washy stuff, Braythe was standing there quietly trying to pretend Turegk was just a trick of the snow. Just a little.

So much for brooding and drinking.

[Tulian Solum]

After his little salute and greeting was replied to by the eagle Seig let out a breath and slowly moved so he was standing to the side and only a little behind Lord Braythe. This was he was in full sight of the eagle and more able himself to see the large eagle. Taking deep breaths to keep his heart under control as he stood to attention in front of the predator he tried his best to smile, but it was likely a weak one.

“The winds treat me fairly but the weather is not ripe for flight today.” Turegk responded “You appear much more civil that your… Lacking compatriot.”

Nodding a little Seig looked around at the slow but steady snowfall and the slight breeze, he would have to guess it was worse up high where the birds flew as it didn't seem that bad right now. Clearing his threat a little as he stood there he decided it would be best to not reply to the Eagles second statement.

"Thank you sir, I can only imagine the winds up high, but good to see that you were able to weather them to land safely." Stay calm, he kept telling himself, this eagle seems friendly and not at all hungry. He wouldn't gobble you up as long as you keep acting respectful...

Though when the bird asked about a place to stay Seigs eyes widened a lot, even he was unsure about letting a eagle into the mountain. He had been taught that confined spaces made birds of prey violent and angry. But then again the mountain was large, and a perch on the outside wouldn't be that dangerous would it? Besides, it not like they could stop him coming back later if Braythe said no. He could just fly up and roost there.

He relaxed a lot though when the Eagle said that he didn't want to eat him, always a nice plus you know? Like when Brayhte said that he wasn't going to throw him into the sea. Just nice tp know that your life is safe for a little longer. While they bickered back and fourth Seig mostly remained quiet and just stayed where he was. It was Braythes mountain after all, so it was his decision. But he uhhed a little and looked back at Braythe as he asked him about his mannerisms.

"Back in the North Lord Braythe, birds of prey weren't exactly common, it was more often Owls or Falcons there. But part of our training...a small part was about what to do if you found yourself in a situation like this. Now doesn't seem a good time to go into detail about it so I'll just say that it mostly told us to be polite because as Sir Sky Flayer as pointed out, they normally eat creatures like me." Now that he actually told what the training was about he frowned a little. It didn't seem like it would really do much if the bird wanted to eat you...Guess it was just trying to make the best of a life and death situation.

Clearing his throat again he made sure he was still standing to attention beside Lord Braythe facing the Eagle.

[Turegk]

"It won't be here, eagle! We've already had one golden eagle tear in 'ter my hares, ye won't be welcome here!"

“Ah, so you are in command of a group of fighting hares?” Turegk asked, cocking his head.

Strange that they would accept such a beast as their leader. Turegk thought. His virtue is certainly not diplomacy.

“I am dearly sorry for any attacks my kind may have made on you and yours. However, as you can see, I am clearly not a savage as some of my kind are.”

Turegk could understand that an eagle in a room full of hares was bound to be… Interesting, at least for the hares. But he would be glad to finally be rid of the storm. He watched the badger question the ferret and then begin to ignore the eagle. Turegk laughed quietly and waited with a look of mild humor on his face (which to the untrained eye didn’t look very humorous)

"Thank you sir, I can only imagine the winds up high, but good to see that you were able to weather them to land safely."

“It is indeed. Might I inquire about your names? It is terribly impolite for me to continue without asking.” Turegk lifted first his left, then his right foot from the snow to keep them warm as he asked.
Turegk nodded as the ferret went over his history. It was quite true, an owl or a falcon were both quite excellent fighting and hunting birds. It would be wise not to upset them, especially at the ferret’s size. The eagle shook his head as snow accumulated on it. It wasn’t particularly windy on ground level, but Turegk had no intentions of flying any farther, unless it would take him to shelter.

When the ferret finished and turned back to him, Turegk lifted his right leg and swept his left wing across his body in a bow.

"Turegk Harath Aigianon at your service."

[.:Fawn:.]

It wasn't often that Braythe got the opportunity to brag about his hares. Puffing out his enormous white chest, the snowy badger bore a grin of savagery and a glint of the eyes not at all uncharacteristic of a youngster getting the chance to boast of his own fighting prowess.
"You bet yer beak I am. I'm Braythe the Savage, ye kin?" He barked, borrowing a highlander phrase he was rather fond of hearing; "Badger Lord of Salamandastron, and those fighting hares yer speakin' of are the Long Patrol, fiercest fighters on this side of the coast."
So put THAT in your pipe and smoke it, feathers.

Braythe couldn't explain it, but the formality they were both exhibiting was highly agitating to the badger who preferred things to be - pun intended - black and white. What happened to the good old days when golden eagles were savage brutes of limited vocabulary but limitless power? What happened to the times when ferrets spoke in fragmented sentences gleaned from their other hordebeasts or from the decks of ships full of nefarious other beasties? All of this 'yes sir' 'thank you sir' was starting to rub his fur the wrong way.

Rolling his eyes at Seig's explanation of why he addressed the great big bag of feathers over there with such civility. "It must be 'orrible on your end of the food chain," commented Braythe as he scratched his chin with one long claw, frowning. "Politeness won't change the order o' things, ferret, just make ye sound like a wuss in your final moments."

Great Brocktree, he would never catch himself being polite just for the sake of living a few seconds longer; he'd rather die with his boots on, such was the way of the warrior. Looking down out of happenstance, the badger's small rounded ears flitted with interest, at last taking a good long look at the talons the eagle sported.
"Ye make 'em yourself?" inquired the commander of the Salamandastron fighting force, unable to stop himself from admiring the excellent craftsmanship. Though he wouldn't admit to remembering and committing the bird's name to memory, he could at least take an interest in the avian fellow's armaments.

[Tulian Solum]

Seig couldn't help but smile as Braythe proudly spoke up about the hares. Sometimes he really was like a overgrown kid, saying how much better his toys were then another kids. Of course Seig would never say this to Lord Braythe, or even one of his hares, or the badger would gladly demonstrate how he wasn't just a kid.

Opening his mouth to say his name once the Eagle asked he stopped when the eagle bowed. Crossing his left arm over his chest to his right shoulder he moved down to take a knee with his right fist on the ground, head bowed to the Eagle.

"Seig Averi Sir, formally of Fortress Taruil, now traveling blade."

After waiting for a second in his kneel he slowly got back to his feet, just in time for Lord Braythe to offer his musings of size and sage advice on surviving. How Lord Braythe became a Lord would also puzzle Seig...he was more of a brutal, Seig would almost say bandit like, Warlord than a lord. Thankfully only a frown showed of this thinking to both large creatures. Taking a second to compile his thoughts to be sure he didn't anger Lord Braythe he replied.

"Thats...one way of thinking about it Lord Braythe. But it did stop you from killing me when we first met, at least long enough for Victorie to show up."

With that he went back to quietly standing, looking over the eagles steel talon's as well as Braythe pointed them out. Though for all Seig knew Eagles always had feet like that, never been close enough to one before to check.

(Oooooooh, bringing up Vicky again :>. Braythe defiantly doesn't fit what Seig has in his mind of a Lord at all .)

[Turegk]

"You bet yer beak I am. I'm Braythe the Savage, ye kin?" […]"Badger Lord of Salamandastron, and those fighting hares yer speakin' of are the Long Patrol, fiercest fighters on this side of the coast."

His title certainly suits him, he’s got that much right. Turegk thought before laughing quietly to himself.

"Seig Averi Sir, formally of Fortress Taruil, now traveling blade."

“Though our battlefields differ, we are of the same cloth.” Turegk said to the ferret.

"It must be 'orrible on your end of the food chain," […]"Politeness won't change the order o' things, ferret, just make ye sound like a wuss in your final moments."

Though he had never been in the ferret’s place, he knew that he himself would never outright kill a beast who attempted to reason with him. Already the ferret had elevated himself from potential snack to an equal, at least in terms of intelligence and respect. The badger seemed to be more brutish than Turegk was alleged to be. However, this ‘Savage’ appeared to be more intelligent than he let on.

"Thats...one way of thinking about it Lord Braythe. But it did stop you from killing me when we first met, at least long enough for Victorie to show up."

He knew nothing of this ‘Victorie’, however, he sensed that it was not the best subject to breach with the badger. It was interesting to think that the badger had once been in a similar situation to the one Turegk was now in. That Braythe had once hunted this ferret was strange, given that he now seemed to be protecting him. This ‘Victorie’ must have been the bridge between them.

"Ye make 'em yourself?"

Turegk turned from his thoughts over to the badger.

Now it’s my turn to brag.

“Hawthorne & Brandy made them,” Turegk answered to the question. “Finest smiths on the Isle. Tempered steel, razor sharp, go through anything from plate to mail.”

Turegk flicked his talons and in one smooth motion removed the claws and held them out to Braythe by their leather straps.

Not like he could turn them against me. Turegk thought as he waited for the badger to inspect the claws. Anything that could help him gain favor with the badger was worth it, as he did have final say in whether or not Turegk would have to weather the storm inside a mountain, or out in the snow.

Truthfully, the cold was beginning to bother him.

[.:Fawn:.]

At mention of Victoire, Braythe shot Seig a cold, volatile glare, as though to bring up the subject of the white mouse healer would be a very bad decision on the ferret's part. Feeling his mood take a sudden dip, Braythe didn't have much time to comment on Seig's survival rate when Turegk's kind offer reached his small curved ears. Expression lighting up like a hearth during yuletide, Braythe eagerly took the claws from the golden eagle, storing away the information concerning it's makers as he inspected the craftsmanship for himself.

They were lethal things of beauty, he had to admit. Admiring them from their points to the leather straps, he shifted each talon, watching how it moved like a well-oiled machine, Braythe unable to stay silent. "What do you do to keep them clean?" He inquired, speaking like a beast with a common interest and not an enemy of Avian kind.

Curious, Braythe held up the talons near Seig's head, scrutinizing bronze eyes looking from the talons to the ferret, and back to the talons again. He couldn't hide a chuckle, bearing a savage grin that showed all his teeth, shoulders shaking from a small fit of mirth.
"Hoho! I understand now why politeness is worth a try! If'n I was you, facin' these beauties right here, I'd mine my yes-sirs and no-sirs too!" He chortled, opening and closing the claws. "These things could dice ye like a vegetable!"

If he could whistle, he would've.

Realizing his fawning over the talons was starting to ruin his reputation, Braythe abruptly cleared his throat, handing them back in an offhanded manner as though he were suddenly a lot less impressed than before. Oblivious to Turegk's poor tolerance for the cold, the Badger Lord took a swig of still warm mulled nettle ale from the flask he'd been carrying, enjoying the warmth that began to seep back into his snow-white limbs.

(( I apologize for how horrendously late this is! I'm sorry!))

[Tulian Solum]

(Its alright Fawn :>)

Smiling he bowed his head a little to the eagle when he mentioned that they were both warriors. He was not almost certain that he wasn't going to get eaten. So he could finally relax a little. But that death glare he got from Lord Braythe didn't bold to well. Mental note Seig, he thought to himself, don't mention Victoire again it seems to hit a sweet spot in the badger...it was as if he had traded one giants murderous intentions for another's.

Leaning forward to get a better look at the claws he oooo'ed a little as he looked them over. "Very impressive sir, the articulation is similar to the rare full suits of armor back North, and I would imagine they could tear through a lot of material. Especially considering your size and probable strength sir." They were defiantly master crafted items made to augment the already terrifying presence of the eagle, and he doubted even shields would be able to last against those that well. But since Lord Braythe was holding them he didn't try to reach forward to touch them.

Which turned out to be a wise move as Braythe rounded on him and seemed to be testing the size of his head for crushing with the claws. Moving from his leaning forward position to a leaning back position he frowned a little as they were held near his face. Face-palming a little as Braythe commented on the possible damage the claws could do to him Seig smiled and nodded.

"Most defiantly Lord Braythe, that is one of the reasons I was polite to Sir Turegk, but not the only reason...Could you please stop holding me at knifepoint Lord Braythe?"

Finally returning to his neutral stance once the deadly weapons had been removed from near his face he rubbed his arms a little and kicked his feet. The wind was starting to pick up, it was going to be much colder tonight. It didn't seem right to leave Turegk outside in the cold when he seemed like a very amiable creature. There had to be something he could do to help him stay.

"Lord Braythe...is that old eagle nest still near the top of the mountain?"

[Turegk]

Turegk again watched with good humor as the badger took the claws. He was obviously very interested in weaponry.

"What do you do to keep them clean?"

“Fish oil, for rust at least.” Turegk answered, “They can also be cleaned by walking through sand.”

"Very impressive sir, the articulation is similar to the rare full suits of armor back North, and I would imagine they could tear through a lot of material. Especially considering your size and probable strength sir."

“They have assisted in punching through many full suits of armor.” Turegk commented, thinking back to some of his more interesting encounters, but only momentarily.

Turegk watched as the badger put the claws over the ferret's head. It was obvious the ferret was uncomfortable; however, the badger seemed to truly appreciate the weapons.

"Hoho! I understand now why politeness is worth a try! If'n I was you, facin' these beauties right here, I'd mine my yes-sirs and no-sirs too!" […]"These things could dice ye like a vegetable!"

“I have yet to chop carrots with them, but I am sure they would suit the job admirably.” Turegk said with good humor.

When the badger returned them rather haphazardly, Turegk caught them by their leather strap and stabbed them into the ground, fitting his talons back into their individual hollows. He then used his beak to deftly “lace” the leather strap around his leg and back talon to secure them. He tested them by flexing his foot closed and returned to standing. He noticed that the wind was picking up, and though the skies above grew darker, his day was suddenly brightened by the ferret.

"Lord Braythe...is that old eagle nest still near the top of the mountain?"

[fernleaf]

ooc: Fawn, Turegk, are you still there?