Thread: Life's Journey (The_Gladiator & darkangel76)

Taurean wasnt sure why he had told her to call him Brandon. He wasnt out to get her, she had no price on her head that he had taken contract for. On the contrary, it seemed as if he had taken up contract to save her. A contract he was pretty sure he would never get paid for, at a level with which he would like to see himself get compensated for. However, his contract did involve her in a roundabout way, although it did not mention her specifically. The issue then was why did he seek to frighten her with his adopted name? Was he truly trying to scare her? She might not have known who he was she did seem to have lived a cloistered life within the temple. She might not know the names of all the famous assassins in Ersheath, even the most well-known one. No, it was probably his desire to keep her at a distance. The less she knew about him the better it would be for her. The less she knew, the less anyone could torture her to learn. She seemed so gentle and nave. If Shyra or some of the other talented interrogators at the Despurden headquarters got ahold of her, it would be ugly. Strangely, he found himself not wanting that for her. It all came back to that he couldnt stand senseless cruelty to women. He would kill a woman without hesitation, but he would never rape one, torture her, or commit other such similar acts. The memories associated with such acts ran too deep. Following that thought, Brandon, the over controlled killer clamped down on the racing thoughts of Taurean. They were not separate identities, but more personas, Brandon was just a name given to his assassins training. And at the moment, that training would not let his mind go into the past. The memories there were too much, and reliving them at this time served no purpose. The cool night breeze had felt good on his skin when walking through the trees. It was less pleasant out over the open water, much cooler than on land. However it was not enough to bother Taurean as he propelled them through the water. He could feel the breeze blowing her wayward curls into his face, aided when she tried to turn to look at him. He didnt have a hand to brush them out of his face, but he didnt mind too particularly much either. At this point most of his navigation was through sound and letting the current take them rather than using his sight, there really wasnt much to see. He knew she wanted answers but Taurean did not dare speak too much yet he still wanted to put more ground between them and their pursuers. He did answer her question though. I have bruised, cracked or broken ribs. He stated as if such an occurrence were commonplace. He could also feel a line of blood trailing down his cheek, probably from where he had impacted the tree trunk. And various scratches and cuts. Nothing particularly unusual. He added, unsure why she had inquired, what did she care, and furthermore why he even answered her. Paddling the boat hurt his ribs, the repetitive movement sending jarring pains throughout his chest, but never once did he complain. Rather his senses were for the most part trained outward, listening to the lapping of the water against the bank. Listening for turns in the river. Feeling for obstacles with the paddles as much as by spotting them with his sight or sensing them with his hearing. He inhaled, and realized that that fool Grennen had been right, that she did smell of Lavender. After he had given her his cloak, this left him in his tunic, with the leather armor vest over it. Both died in greens and browns, with a healthy amount of black thrown in to aid him in being invisible both at night and in the daytime. With her rapped in his cloak, he hoped they were more difficult to see now, that had been another reason he had given it to her, aside from the simple desire to keep her warm.