Thread: True Calling (Atroxa x Effigy)

The forest was a forbidding place, even during the day certain parts of it seemed to absorb what little sunlight penetrated the thick canopy overhead, keeping the place bathed in a perpetual twilight. At night, the light from the moon and the stars stayed well away, drowning it in a thick, inky blackness, more than enough to keep most people out. Some knew it's secrets well enough to tread over the knot-work of roots that carpeted the forest floor, even they did so carefully though, to be complacent in a place like this was to be suicidal. Locals told stories of the twisted beasts that wandered here, but really, the most dangerous thing about this place was a person's own mind. It was easy to get lost, to panic, to run and get yourself even more lost. You started to starve, grow desperate, there were many plants here and you told yourself that surely they were safe to eat. Unfortunately for these people almost all of the plants here in the forest were highly toxic, with effects varying from simple sickness to hallucinations. The creatures who lived here had developed immunities to their effects at the cost of many individuals over generations, humans had not done this. Even the predators had developed a resistance so that they could safely eat the meat of the prey, for a human to do so though meant growing very ill as their meat was tainted with the toxins of the plants. They had to be cooked and prepared a very certain way to make them safe. Most people just took the smart and easy route and avoided the deeper parts of the forest all together. So it was odd indeed to spot a rider carefully guiding their mount through the trees, the horse stumbled once though and grew agitated, so the rider dismounted and gathered the beast's reins, leading it further in on foot. It was obvious by their size that they were likely very young, or very small for an adult, but it was hard to tell with a long hood and cloak obscuring everything but small, slender hands. Their shape made it more than likely that the rider was female, and as she walked she looked down and around her, stopping occasionally to bend down and examine a plant here and there. Sometimes those small hands dug into the dark loam of the forest floor and pulled the plant up with it's roots. It was dangerous to cut them at the stalk, so she did as her mother had taught her and instead wrapped some burlap around the roots and soil she'd pulled up, securing it with a bit of chord and then putting it in one of the saddle bags on her horse. Occasionally she would hear movement, or catch it out of the corner of her eye, but she seemed unworried, and the wolves came no closer to her than they dared. Wolves, she had found, were skittish creatures. They were curious and opportunistic, but if you didn't make yourself a target, then they usually wouldn't take the risk of attacking you. Her horse seemed rather unhappy about having them around but they'd made this trek many times, and it knew to trust it's rider. They weren't far into their routine though before the cloaked figure stopped and looked up from the ground, hearing more than seeing a scuffle up ahead. Wandering closer her adjusted vision caught the shape of several wolves, they seemed to be bickering and fussing over something, but as she wandered closer, they spooked and ran off. They didn't go far though, lingering nearby, watchful and impatient to have their prize back. Lilura's head tilted under her hood, looking down at an injured man, some sort of warrior by the looks of him. What was he doing out here? She wondered if he was dead, having a hard time seeing if he was breathing in the dark and with his armor covering most of his body. So the girl, as she was still very much a girl, extended a foot and prodded him with the toe of her boot where the arrows stuck out, seeing if she could get a reaction. A groan of pain told her that he was, indeed, alive. That made her sigh and she glanced at the wolves, still watching, then at her horse, Bayard, who was watching the wolves. So much for gathering herbs... she murmured with a hint of irritated resignation and reached down, taking the man's arm and pulling at him. Come on then, get up, she growled with effort, Get up or I'll leave you to the wolves. After much effort she got the beaten down warrior to his feet, pushing and prodding him to her horse's side. You're going to have to help me, I sure as hell can't carry you, Lilura muttered at him, helping him as much as she could to lumber up into her slightly too small for him saddle. By the time they were done, her hood had fallen back and her face was a little red, the girl huffing a little as she'd grown a little out of breath. I robbed the wolves of a good meal that's for sure, she grumbled, gathering her horse's reins again, Bayard had stood with a sort of begrudging tolerance while the heavy, clumsy creature had climbed onto his back and now followed all too eagerly as Lilura lead him back the way they had come. Usually she made them stay in the forest for far longer, so he was happy to go back early, to the safety of his stall, even if he had to carry the heavy creature on his back and the wolves circling around them, unhappy at having their meal taken away. The girl lead them from the forest out onto the hard pack dirt trail that lead to her home, her hood back still to reveal long black hair, fair skin, a lovely face, and large gray eyes. She was young, only just shy of eighteen, but only the blind would mistake her for a child, her eyes betrayed wisdom and intelligence beyond her years, and the stillness of her movements were far more sure of themselves than most of the unsure, eager girls of her age. Lilura walked with Bayard trudging along beside her, the girl having to keep him in check when her family's manor came back into view, his head lifting and ears perking, trying to drag her along with him towards the court yard, but she managed to hold him in check with an irritated threat thrown in for good measure. Balfour manor had been her home for several years, a shack compared to the grand castle she had called home when she had been a child, but it was where her family dwelt now, unwelcome very close to the capital. Lilura woke one of the stable hands to fetch her guard, needing help getting the man off her horse and some where where she could tend his wounds. Galathe hurried into the stables only a few moments later, looking flustered, his dark red hair disheveled from sleep. How many times do I have to beg you to stop wandering off into the forest at night? the large man grumbled at her. The girl only shrugged a little and gave a coy smile, At least once more Galathe, now help me with this brute, I found him trying to feed the wolves in the forest. They struggled together to get the man out of her saddle and the stable hand took Bayard to untack him and put him away while Lilura followed Galathe as he half dragged the man away. Take him to the infirmary, I'll wake one of the nurses, she told him in the tone of some one used to getting their way. Galathe heaved a flustered sigh but obeyed. He had half a mind to go and get her father, but he'd just be held responsible for the girl running off into the forest again, it wasn't his fault that Lord Balfour's daughter was as slippery as a fish, or maybe it was a snake.