May the Leaves of Your Life Tree Never Turn Brown

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by M.Crowe, Mar 16, 2013.

  1. "Fuck!" the elven woman screamed, drawing her bow as far as possible before releasing the triplet of arrows at the dragon she'd run into in the forest. It was miles away from town and there was no possible way any person in said town had heard the cries of the dragon. "Stop catching-" she shouted, pausing to shoot an arrow into its eye. It had landed earlier and was heading for its den when it stopped to fight off the elven woman, "-this forest on fire!"

    Almost in a response, the dragon roared and breathed fire at her. Though the two had ended up in a rocky, moss-covered clearing in the forest, the dragon was much too large for its fire to miss the trees.

    'Already wounded...' she thought, noticing a tear in its wing, dripping blood more and more as it fought. It had slowed exponentially, growing weaker with its blood loss. It dropped its head, readying itself to breathe fire at the elf again. She stilled her hand, her arm shaking lightly as it held the readied arrow at the dragon's mouth. She watched as it opened its gaping mouth, watching the sparks glow in its throat. She fired and all was silent.

    "Shouldn't have wandered into this forest, my friend," the elf sighed, combing her long, wavy brown hair behind a highly pointed ear. Slaying and skinning a dragon was rough and took time. "I wish not to kill your kind, but I thank the Great Mother that she brought you to me. With your help, I will eat for weeks. Your soul may rest now and your body is greatly appreciated. With you, my friend, I will have scale armor like no other, a covering for my home, and meat for my stomach." The woman paused, closing the beast's eyes before she continued to skin it.

    Night was falling and the elven woman had let her mind wander dangerously as she performed the meticulous task of skinning the dragon for it's scales. She wiped her tattooed brow with the back of her wrist and heaved a sigh. 'How did you hurt your wing?' she wondered, furrowing her brow as she cut at the meat, 'Certainly not on your own... Did someone hurt you. friend?'

    "What a day.." she breathed, wrapping the meat she'd cut from the beast in sheep skin and leaves. She cut one large steak into strips and drenched the strips in salt before wrapping those as well. "To the market tomorrow. I will sell the majority and keep what I can carry." The elf often spoke to herself, finding it nicer than sitting in the silent forest. Figuring she was alone, the woman tugged at the buckles of her pauldrons and leather curaiss. The leather armor fell off her chest, allowing for her chest to be relatively exposed except for the piece of leather that tied much like a strapless bikini top that covered her breasts. She pulled at the buckles of her swords' sheaths and folded them neatly together, setting them beside her as she seated herself on a fallen tree to take her leather boots off as well. The woman winced, noticing a cut just below her knee before turning her gaze to the remains of the noble beast she'd slain.

    "Aa' lasser en lle coia orn n' omenta gurtha," she whispered, wishing the dragon that the leaves of its life tree to never turn brown, in hopes that it had bred at least once before she had slain it.

    Vulnerable, tired, yet accomplished, Evsarafel poured the water from her leather pouch on the last flame of the forest that the dragon had started. The rocky clearing had grown from only about thirty feet in diameter to a hundred or so, but the elf felt as though it was her job to take care of the forest. She could not save the dragon that had sought shelter in the forest from its hunter, but she could save the forest around the beast's final resting place. Surely, someone was seeking the dragon and the smoke billowing up from forest was a good clue as to where it had gone. Fel only hoped she would have the strength enough to defend herself when the hunter arrived. It was a long walk back to camp.

    She kept her quiver on her back and her bow close by.
  2. Rowan had been following after the trails of smoke for days. The twenty seven year old was on a mission and his goal would be met. The smoke could only mean one thing: a dragon was nearby. The ranger had never seen one in person, only ever seeing the damage they left behind and hearing tales of older members of his troupe. Rowan had grown up in a small village until he was sixteen, just his mother and younger brother as his family. His father had disappeared when Owen had been three, making Rowan himself only nine years old. Once he had become of age, or at least was viewed a man in his village, Rowan left home and joined the rangers, honing in on his fighting skills as well as tracking. He'd risen quickly through the ranks and was now equal to a lieutenant before he was thirty.

    His shaggy hair stuck to his brow. All this running had him breaking a sweat. It'd been a week of tracking this dragon now. This meant a week since he'd had a proper meal, a week since he'd had a bed to sleep in, and a week since he had been able to do more than wash his face in the mornings. Rowan was looking forward to all of those things and more once he returned to the dwellings of the rangers. More having the name of Analinde. The twenty three year old had become a constant in his life for the past few years. He enjoyed her company greatly, but Rowan didn't want the things she'd been hinting at for a while now. He wanted to be free to do as he wished. A wife would change that. Besides. Rowan could never be a father. He'd done that job as a child. Now he just wanted to be, well, Rowan.

    It was near nightfall now and the column of smoke was so close he could taste and smell it. The dragon must have made a home close by. Why else hadn't it moved on from here? As he come to the clearing, Rowan sensed that someone else was in the area. Was it a hunter? Or was it just a passerby? Or was it even another person such as himself, just full of curiosity? The scruffy man drew his sword silently, holding it at the ready in case of ambush. He entered the clearing, ready to fight whether it be another person or the dragon. Rowan knew the dangers of the beast he was trying to find and knew it may come down to him killing it to survive but he was ready for that risk. However he was met with a sight he wasn't expecting. An elven woman was there. A bow and quiver strapped to her nearly nude upper body. The thin material hardly covered much and Rowan was almost left gawking. He was a man, after all. But he'd learned self control years ago. He pointed the sword at her. She was armed, after all, and one should never rule out a woman and her fighting abilities. He knew a great number of woman who could go head to head with him in a battle.

    "You there. What is your purpose here?" His voice was deep, and somewhat gravelly. It bore his exhaustion from his travels. Rowan's eyes caught sight of the dragon's carcass, and his ember eyes narrowed. "Did you kill it? Did you do this?"

    [[I am so so sorry about the delay. Rowan gave me plenty of troubles away and my mom and I have been off and about.]]