A Viking and a Celt

More thoughts flickered across the Norseman's mind and he smirked. Best push those thoughts aside. Save them for later. She was strong as he found out earlier, but now the challenge of taming her was before him and it was very hard to pass up.

"Alright, a bear then." He laughed. "Maybe that's what the dream meant. I'll never have you as my own, which I don't want to, by the way, but a bear will take you instead." He grinned at her. He liked the fact she could take a teasing with the best of them.
 
Aithne smiled at his teasing but shook her head with a sad look. "No, I doubt it. I have yet to ever hear tale of a man becoming beast and walking among them. If ye ever hear, shall ye promise to tell me?" Aithne gave a hopeful look, but quickly set aside her absurd thoughts. Of course she had dreamed of love, but she never had longed for it. She found solace in the Wilds, and never had the need to be in a man's arms to find comfort. Her family never understood that about her. They did not understand that she did not need a man to make her happy. Does not mean that she dreamed about it though.
 
"I have heard tales of such men. But that's all they are. Tales. Stories. Things to frighten children into staying in their beds at night. Wolves that turn into men on a full moon and walk among us. And if you drink water from their footprints in the same moon, you will turn into one of them. A man who turns into a wolf and roams the flocks at night, culling the herd, eating the chickens..."

He shrugged. "But they are just stories." He gave her a sort of sideways look. "At least, that's what I make sure everyone thinks..." He said, waving a hand as if it was just an idle comment.
 
"If those tales were such truth, I still do not know that I would want to fall in love with a beast who has no control when the moon would rise her full glory in the night." She shrugged again and looked at her dirty feet. Why did she always go bare foot? She did not know herself.
 
"With your skill, you could no doubt control him during those pressing times." He laughed and shook his head. "You do not find men attractive in the least?" He asked, petting one of his hounds that came up, just wanting attention.
 
Aithne blushed despite herself and slapped a hand over her cheeks. Why is my face so hot all of a sudden? she wondered. "I am attracted to men, aye. Why do ye ask?" She gave a suspicious look;
 
He shrugged. "You're going on about it like you've never looked at a man and felt the urge to crawl into his bed." He said, looking over his hound's head at her. He shrugged. "Odd is all. My sister's a bit different. I guess I can't judge all women by what my sister does, though."
 
"I have thought about bedding someone, of course. But I have not ever had the urge to." She shrugged. Was it really so strange to not have those urges?
 
"Never had the urge? Huh..." He shrugged. "So, you've never bedded someone before?"

Damn it. Why was his interest in her growing? All for the wrong reasons, too. One touch and she could tell him his future. He needed to remember that. She was something he should be trying to stay away from, but...but he was finding it rather difficult...
 
"No," she said without any trace of embarrassment. "Should I have?" She was not accustomed to the way she should "act" as a lady, she more or less did as she pleased. She noticed the funny look that Torgeir was giving her though so she scooted a little closer to see what his face meant. "What is wrong?"
 
"Well, I suppose not." He leaned back away from her slightly. "I hear some men value that aspect of a woman on their wedding night. Personally, I don't care either way...better blood on other's beds than on mine." He laughed and looked at her. "Nothing's wrong. Why do you ask?"
 
"Oh, do they?" She was innocent that way. She was wise and beyond her years in most things, but the mention of bedding someone... she knew hardly anything. "No reason, you just looked deep in thought is all." She noticed him lean away. Did she offend him with her scent? Perhaps she could use a bath
 
"Ah, well, you'll find I can be deep for a man of men." He smirked. "And a werewolf." He was still teasing her. That just seemed easiest right now. Best get off the conversation before he let slip he wouldn't mind taking her for a roll-around....
 
She smirked at him, but remembered how he had moved away from him. Perchance she did smell? "I-I think I will go and bathe." She got up and started to head to the nearby stream that she knew was there
 
"Alright." He smiled. "Water's cold." He warned, as if the water were ever warm. He stayed in the clearing and watched over the stew and his hounds, thinking about what was going on with him. He was attracted to her, sure. Who wouldn't be? With as little as she wore and the ferocity with which she pounced...He sighed and shook his head a little, looking at his hounds. "The gods are playing a cruel joke on me, surely..." He muttered to them, shaking his head.
 
She washed away all of her confusion. Since when did she blush? Hardly ever, if ever! She did not understand her body's reactions to the new man. What did it all mean?

She washed her arms, back, stomach and legs with some rolled up leaves and then used flowers petals to wash her breasts and other parts. Once shw was done, she crawled out of the stream as a sopping wet, shaky mess. Why had she thought to take a bath in this cooling weather?
 
Torgeir eventually got bored waiting and moved to sit with his back against a tree, his kilt wrapped hap-haphazardly around him so he was sitting on it, it was covering his lap, and so it was between his back and the tree. He was near the fire, so he wasn't too cold, and was pretty dry from his own bath.

He got bored while she was gone so he started singing idly, poking the fire now and then and stirring the pot. The only problem with stew was that it took so long...
 
She got out and started to back on her leather gear which was no easy task when you were soaking wet. She never thought to bring any cloth with her to dry off with.

She stepped through the clearing and found Torgeir sitting against the tree. She made the mistake of looking down at his kilt, and saw more than she had wanted to. There was doing it again! Blushing! So she smacked a hand over her blushing cheeks and turned away from him. The sunlight caught he droplets of water on her skin and gave her skin an ethereal type of glow.
 
Drustan looked up at the slap. He looked at her, looked at himself, then looked at her again. He smirked. "You have a nice bath, Oracle?" He asked, that teasing tone in his voice.

This was another sort of hunt he liked that never ended in bloodshed. Well, maybe once or twice, depending on the experience of the girl, but that wasn't the point. It was hunting, and he enjoyed hunting. Maybe more like fishing sometimes....
 
"Aye, I-I did." She refused to meet his eyes and found a very interesting leaf up above. She focused all of her attention on it and noticed a sudden chill in the air. She wrapped her arms around herself, and was still looking at the damned leaf
 
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