"Dont need friends? Dont want them? You cant be that stupid can you?" he probably didnt mean to say it quite that way but he wasnt taking it back either. "Everybody needs friends, with out them the world is a very lonely place dove." Katharr ignored her question and concentrated on the matter of friendship.
"Next to love there is nothing like a good friend, someone you confide in, someone you laugh with, cry with, someone who is there with you and for you through good times and bad." looking a slight stupified himself he continued to gape at the young woman.
A Lonely Road
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Brenna let her hood hang over her eyes, obscuring her face. 'Well, I seem to have managed fine so far. I don't want any of the people I've met so far in my life for friends, that's for sure. And I don't want anyone else. I'm happy with the company of the birds and the trees and... nature.'
Abruptly, she stopped talking. She could feel a lump forming in her throat, and she didn't want to let go in front of this strange man. 'So, are you going to tell me or not? Or are you going to waste more of my time?' she asked angrily.
Abruptly, she stopped talking. She could feel a lump forming in her throat, and she didn't want to let go in front of this strange man. 'So, are you going to tell me or not? Or are you going to waste more of my time?' she asked angrily.
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Hoppy
"As a matter of fact, I am not going to tell you." there was an obvious pained look to his eyes and in his voice. "Perhaps someday, when you have opened your mind and your heart to the possibilities you will understand."
Turning his back to her he bowed his head "Im sorry, I have failed..." who he was talking to was unclear but it certainly didnt seem to be Brenna. "I hope in time that you can truly come to appreciate the value of a good friend, next to love there is nothing stronger than a mutual bond of respect and goodwill." he had turned back to her and she could see the moisture in his eyes as a tear ran down his cheek.
Then it happened...between blinks he was just...gone. "Safe journeys" came a whisper on the wind but when she looks there is no one within sight.
Turning his back to her he bowed his head "Im sorry, I have failed..." who he was talking to was unclear but it certainly didnt seem to be Brenna. "I hope in time that you can truly come to appreciate the value of a good friend, next to love there is nothing stronger than a mutual bond of respect and goodwill." he had turned back to her and she could see the moisture in his eyes as a tear ran down his cheek.
Then it happened...between blinks he was just...gone. "Safe journeys" came a whisper on the wind but when she looks there is no one within sight.
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Brenna looked around her wildly, her mind racing. She felt strangely sad and exhausted, and she sank to the ground. What had that been about? Suddenly she felt unsure about what she was doing. What was the point? If, as he had said, friendship was so important, then her life was a waste, because she was never going to have any friends.
Annoyance rose up inside her. What right did he have to make her feel so worthless? He was as bad as everyone else, but he had made her trust him. She frowned, cross at herself for having been taken in so easily.
'Who do you think you are?' she called out to thin air. 'I'm just fine on my own.'
She stamped her foot stubbornly on the ground, and angrily pulling out a sheaf of parchment and some ink from her pack, began to draw the sweeping landscape around her, her strokes dark and angry. A tear dripped down and splashed on the paper, blurring the lines, surprising her, but she kept drawing and ignored it.
As she felt the stress flood away, she wondered what she would do now. The forest is still there, elves or no elves, she decided. She stuffed the paper once more into her bag, and stood up, stretching, ready once more to trudge on.
Annoyance rose up inside her. What right did he have to make her feel so worthless? He was as bad as everyone else, but he had made her trust him. She frowned, cross at herself for having been taken in so easily.
'Who do you think you are?' she called out to thin air. 'I'm just fine on my own.'
She stamped her foot stubbornly on the ground, and angrily pulling out a sheaf of parchment and some ink from her pack, began to draw the sweeping landscape around her, her strokes dark and angry. A tear dripped down and splashed on the paper, blurring the lines, surprising her, but she kept drawing and ignored it.
As she felt the stress flood away, she wondered what she would do now. The forest is still there, elves or no elves, she decided. She stuffed the paper once more into her bag, and stood up, stretching, ready once more to trudge on.
Last edited by Guest on Wed Apr 07, 2004 1:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Hoppy
The funny old creature, neither man nor elf had gone and in his absence there was a disturbing silence that ate at the young woman's mind. There were no birds singing, no crickets chirping, not even the sound of the air as it blew on her hair and causing it to fall in her eyes more often than she would have liked.
Standing up to stretch and move along she was suprised by the sudden drop of moisture that fell against her cheek, and then her forhead and soon she was being harassed by a slight down pour of rain that threatened to soak her to the bone if she didnt hurry.
Standing up to stretch and move along she was suprised by the sudden drop of moisture that fell against her cheek, and then her forhead and soon she was being harassed by a slight down pour of rain that threatened to soak her to the bone if she didnt hurry.
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Guest
The rain was cooling to her skin after her strange conflict, but Brenna had no wish to become ill through getting to wet. Grabbing her pack, she ran towards the trees, sheltering under their towering greatness. Although trees were never the best shelter against the weather, Brenna had lived in the forest for enough of her life not to care about the odd drop which escaped through. Here, anyway, was where she felt most at home. The bark she was leaning against, familiar yet foreign, made her wish she could have put up with her mother's torments for longer, so she would not have had to leave the beloved woods of her home.
Making sure her hood was fully covering her head, she began to walk under cover of the trees, her pack feeling heavier than usual. Normally, the peace of the forests would have calmed her spirits, but as she walked she could still feel something disturbing or strange hanging over her. She couldn't work out what it was, but it was making her feel edgy.
Making sure her hood was fully covering her head, she began to walk under cover of the trees, her pack feeling heavier than usual. Normally, the peace of the forests would have calmed her spirits, but as she walked she could still feel something disturbing or strange hanging over her. She couldn't work out what it was, but it was making her feel edgy.
As Brenna was walking under the roof of great branches full of leaves, the sound of rainfall swelled in a mighty crescendo. The collective sound of the heavy raindrops crashing down nearly resembled a bariton voice. Soon, water was falling down in such quantities, that it was nearly impossible to see more than an arm length far, so thick was the glass curtain.
The ground started to get all muddy, as even the thick layers of leaves were no longer of any use as shelter. Brenna felt the moist soil sucking her feat, making rather vulgar sounds when she pulled her them out of the brown mass again. Every now and then a drop of rain fell down on her hood, hitting surprisingly hard. Not much later, she saw that instead of rain, hail was falling down now.
Just when she thought it couldn't get much worse anymore, the growling of thunder could be heard, and the storm didn't even appear to be that far away.
The ground started to get all muddy, as even the thick layers of leaves were no longer of any use as shelter. Brenna felt the moist soil sucking her feat, making rather vulgar sounds when she pulled her them out of the brown mass again. Every now and then a drop of rain fell down on her hood, hitting surprisingly hard. Not much later, she saw that instead of rain, hail was falling down now.
Just when she thought it couldn't get much worse anymore, the growling of thunder could be heard, and the storm didn't even appear to be that far away.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
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Brenna pulled her hood tightly over her head and hugged her arms close to her body. As the cold rain dripping down her face turned to the sharp pain of hailstones biting into her skin, the salty droplets of her own tears joined the water falling from the heavens. There's nowhere I can find shelter, she thought miserably. It reminded her of when she was stil at home, and she had to stay out in the forest in the day even when it rained. But at least then she had been able to build some sort of shelter, because she was out there so much. Travelling, she was not in one place long enough to be able to build anything. She just hoped her sketchbooks weren't getting too wet.
The growl of thunder comforted her, strangely. It felt like a message from someone, although she didn't know who. And I quite like lightening, she decided. It's light flashing through the sky had always seemed like a magnificent show put on by the gods.
She trudged on. There was no point in stopping, it would make no difference to how wet she got. Her only thought was that she might come to some sort of settlement soon. It seemed bizarre to her that, for once, she longed to find some sort of human life, but her desire for warmth was bigger than her fear of being taunted at.
The growl of thunder comforted her, strangely. It felt like a message from someone, although she didn't know who. And I quite like lightening, she decided. It's light flashing through the sky had always seemed like a magnificent show put on by the gods.
She trudged on. There was no point in stopping, it would make no difference to how wet she got. Her only thought was that she might come to some sort of settlement soon. It seemed bizarre to her that, for once, she longed to find some sort of human life, but her desire for warmth was bigger than her fear of being taunted at.
The wet sand that had entered her boots in vast quantities resulted in a very unpleasant sensation. For now, it was only dead skin being pealed of by the friction, but it felt like it wouldn't be that long before she would get some nasty blisters.
If it would continue to rain like this -the hailing had luckily not lasted that long-, it would be a matter of a few burns before her sketches would be totally ruined. All of a sudden, lightning crashed down, hitting a mighty oak tree that was only a few paces away. The tree fell down, not nearly crushing her, but making enough noise to scare her enormously.
Out of nowhere a beautiful squirrel jumped on her shoulder, clinging to one of her ears. It had a wonderful long fluffy tail, which felt very soft to her neck. Apparently, the animal had been frightened enough to act against it's natural instinct to avoid people. Or maybe the animal was used to being treated kindly by the elves or other forest creatures.
As Brenna was trying to keep her heart from ramming her chest, she suddenly noticed something very strange. Though the rain had not stopped -to the contrary, it had rather increased it's offensive even more- she couldn't feel a single rain drop hitting her anymore. Not only her neck was safeguarded, which could be explained by the marvellous tail draped around it. Her cloths, her boots, though t was all still moist, it wasn't getting any wetter.
If it would continue to rain like this -the hailing had luckily not lasted that long-, it would be a matter of a few burns before her sketches would be totally ruined. All of a sudden, lightning crashed down, hitting a mighty oak tree that was only a few paces away. The tree fell down, not nearly crushing her, but making enough noise to scare her enormously.
Out of nowhere a beautiful squirrel jumped on her shoulder, clinging to one of her ears. It had a wonderful long fluffy tail, which felt very soft to her neck. Apparently, the animal had been frightened enough to act against it's natural instinct to avoid people. Or maybe the animal was used to being treated kindly by the elves or other forest creatures.
As Brenna was trying to keep her heart from ramming her chest, she suddenly noticed something very strange. Though the rain had not stopped -to the contrary, it had rather increased it's offensive even more- she couldn't feel a single rain drop hitting her anymore. Not only her neck was safeguarded, which could be explained by the marvellous tail draped around it. Her cloths, her boots, though t was all still moist, it wasn't getting any wetter.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
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Brenna's eyes opened wider, although she was beginning to feel that things couldn't possibly get any stranger than the events she had already been part of. She put up one hand, half in wonder, and stroked the beautiful creature on her shoulder. 'It's alright, it's just a bit of lightening,' she whispered, although she wasn't sure if she was comforting herself or her animal friend.
Looking up, she could still see the droplets falling down steadily. How could it be that she wasn't getting any wetter? Was Katharr still playing with her head? She stopped walking and stood still and silent, looking around, trying to work out what was going on. She breathed deeply, trying to calm down, but the fluffy tail of the squirrel against her neck reminded her that nothing was usual.
'What's going on?' she whispered, her voice quiet and fearful.
Looking up, she could still see the droplets falling down steadily. How could it be that she wasn't getting any wetter? Was Katharr still playing with her head? She stopped walking and stood still and silent, looking around, trying to work out what was going on. She breathed deeply, trying to calm down, but the fluffy tail of the squirrel against her neck reminded her that nothing was usual.
'What's going on?' she whispered, her voice quiet and fearful.
At that point, the grim atmosphere started to dissolve. The dark grey clouds, almost blue, got lighter, and only a bit of rain persisted in falling down. Whether it was because of Brenna touching it, the passing of the tempest, or because it had overcome it's initial fear for lightning, the squirrel decided it had been staying long enough on Brenna's shoulder.
It jumped down and ran away, halting and turning his head in a very quick and nervous, very... squirrelish way, after a distance of several paces. It seemed to wait there for a while.
In the mean time, Brenna noticed that rain was touching her again, just as it had been doing a few flickers ago. However, right now that wasn't such a huge problem anymore, as these quantities were by no means a threat to her sketches or her health.
It jumped down and ran away, halting and turning his head in a very quick and nervous, very... squirrelish way, after a distance of several paces. It seemed to wait there for a while.
In the mean time, Brenna noticed that rain was touching her again, just as it had been doing a few flickers ago. However, right now that wasn't such a huge problem anymore, as these quantities were by no means a threat to her sketches or her health.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
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Curiously, Brenna watched the squirrel as it hopped away. She longed to whip out her sketch books and draw it's quickness, describe the long tail. Whenever she saw something new and exciting, in the back of her mind she mentally placed it in her book, and this creature would fit in wonderfully.
Her spirits lifting as the rain decreased a little, she stepped towards the squirrel. Perhaps if she followed it, the rain would stop and then she could draw it. Pulling her hood down over her face, she tried to step quietly so as not to scare the small animal. Although she had been protected from the downpour for a while... however that happened.... her hair was still stuck around her face in wet clumps and she impatiently scraped it off her cheeks. Why am I so self concious about what I look like? she asked herself. Deep down, though, she knew why. She's never going to leave me alone, the young girl thought angrily. I escape from her but still her voice is in my head, telling me I'm never going to be accepted. But I don't need acceptance here. There's just me, the trees and the animals, and they don't care. She half felt like sticking out her tongue in defiance at the spirit of her mother.
Concentrate on the important things, she told herself as she got closer to the squirrel. She stopped, waiting to see where it would go next.
Her spirits lifting as the rain decreased a little, she stepped towards the squirrel. Perhaps if she followed it, the rain would stop and then she could draw it. Pulling her hood down over her face, she tried to step quietly so as not to scare the small animal. Although she had been protected from the downpour for a while... however that happened.... her hair was still stuck around her face in wet clumps and she impatiently scraped it off her cheeks. Why am I so self concious about what I look like? she asked herself. Deep down, though, she knew why. She's never going to leave me alone, the young girl thought angrily. I escape from her but still her voice is in my head, telling me I'm never going to be accepted. But I don't need acceptance here. There's just me, the trees and the animals, and they don't care. She half felt like sticking out her tongue in defiance at the spirit of her mother.
Concentrate on the important things, she told herself as she got closer to the squirrel. She stopped, waiting to see where it would go next.
The little animal played a very strong game: it always stayed far enough to be out of reach, yet close enough so Brenna could follow it. They played that game for a while, until they arrived at a big open clearing in the forrest.
The clouds had dissolved in the mean while, and the blue sky with the gentle sun didn't show any traces of the preview storm anymore. The mixed smell of sweat, drying hair, fresh rain and forrest filled Brenna's nostrils.
In the middle of the open spot, there was a little hut constructed with big wooden logs. The door was open, and the strangely behaving squirrel hopped in without any hesitation.
This time however, it didn't look back to see whether Brenna was still following.
The clouds had dissolved in the mean while, and the blue sky with the gentle sun didn't show any traces of the preview storm anymore. The mixed smell of sweat, drying hair, fresh rain and forrest filled Brenna's nostrils.
In the middle of the open spot, there was a little hut constructed with big wooden logs. The door was open, and the strangely behaving squirrel hopped in without any hesitation.
This time however, it didn't look back to see whether Brenna was still following.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
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ooc: Exams are over, so I'm back in full force!
ic: Brenna had never been told any fairytales when she was small. Once, she had crept through the forests of her home and listened through the trees to where stories were being told around a campfire, but they were more tales of adventure and intrigue than children's tales. Still, the scene before her struck her as something slightly romantic, or at least out of the ordinary. Chasing the squirrel, she had walked faster and faster the further they had gone, and now stopping, she tried to catch her breath a little before she decided what to do.
She hadn't expected to find a house out here, and she wasn't sure she wanted to find out if anyone lived there. Yes, but you're still a bit damp, she thought. And anyway, the squirrel went in there. There's hardly likely to be anyone living there.
Pulling her hood further over her head out of habit, she stepped forward and peered around the door of the hut.
ic: Brenna had never been told any fairytales when she was small. Once, she had crept through the forests of her home and listened through the trees to where stories were being told around a campfire, but they were more tales of adventure and intrigue than children's tales. Still, the scene before her struck her as something slightly romantic, or at least out of the ordinary. Chasing the squirrel, she had walked faster and faster the further they had gone, and now stopping, she tried to catch her breath a little before she decided what to do.
She hadn't expected to find a house out here, and she wasn't sure she wanted to find out if anyone lived there. Yes, but you're still a bit damp, she thought. And anyway, the squirrel went in there. There's hardly likely to be anyone living there.
Pulling her hood further over her head out of habit, she stepped forward and peered around the door of the hut.
OOC: So are mine! One has to love this feeling, don't you agree?
IC: The atmosphere around this place was indeed very much like a faery tale. The squirrel didn't behave remotely as the normal squirrel does, and the scenery around the hut was more that of a painting than like reality. Very appropriate for sketching, though.
She stepped inside the hut. "Ah! Wonderful! Our most exalted lady has arrived at last! please be seated, Your Majesty!"
What Brenna saw, was very unreal. There was no way this hall could possibly fit in the hut. Apparently, she was in the middle of a high society "bal masqué." Moreover, for some reason, people thought she was the guest of honour.
"May I say, Your highness, that your mask is truly hilarious! And you even came in a peasant costume! Wait until the marchionesses of Flopsburough and Gwebbleshire see this! It shall smother their faces with envy! Truly, you prove once more your supremacy, Queen!"
Brenna had no idea who this obsequious man was, but even with her limited knowledge about noble's fashion, she could see he looked truly ridiculous. Apart from a -nice and sober- black and white mask, there was a wig on his head that equalled it in height. Furthermore, he was wearing a shirt with a flower motive under a vest in another loud combination of colors. His socks were pulled up to his knees, his pants tucked into them, and nice red lacquered shoes finished the picture.
A quick glance around the room was a pain to the eyes, as apparently all of the at least two hundred guests shared this outrageous taste with him. Humongous hats, skirts with the diameter of a mighty oak tree, and make up so thick one could write in it with a finger were but some of the features.
"Oh please, m'lady, be seated now, before your feet get to tired. There will be plenty of time for strolling around and a little dance later on!" He took her gently by the arm and forced her into a big throne of marble, silver, gold, three types of carved exotic wood, and some parts of it were painted too.
Once she was seated behind an enormous table on the stage, the servant gave a signal to the trumpeters. They produced a nice regnal chord, and then the servant spoke up: "Silent, ye all, for Her Majesty wishes to speak!"
Two hundred and thirty five faces turned to Brenna, and all was eerily silent.
IC: The atmosphere around this place was indeed very much like a faery tale. The squirrel didn't behave remotely as the normal squirrel does, and the scenery around the hut was more that of a painting than like reality. Very appropriate for sketching, though.
She stepped inside the hut. "Ah! Wonderful! Our most exalted lady has arrived at last! please be seated, Your Majesty!"
What Brenna saw, was very unreal. There was no way this hall could possibly fit in the hut. Apparently, she was in the middle of a high society "bal masqué." Moreover, for some reason, people thought she was the guest of honour.
"May I say, Your highness, that your mask is truly hilarious! And you even came in a peasant costume! Wait until the marchionesses of Flopsburough and Gwebbleshire see this! It shall smother their faces with envy! Truly, you prove once more your supremacy, Queen!"
Brenna had no idea who this obsequious man was, but even with her limited knowledge about noble's fashion, she could see he looked truly ridiculous. Apart from a -nice and sober- black and white mask, there was a wig on his head that equalled it in height. Furthermore, he was wearing a shirt with a flower motive under a vest in another loud combination of colors. His socks were pulled up to his knees, his pants tucked into them, and nice red lacquered shoes finished the picture.
A quick glance around the room was a pain to the eyes, as apparently all of the at least two hundred guests shared this outrageous taste with him. Humongous hats, skirts with the diameter of a mighty oak tree, and make up so thick one could write in it with a finger were but some of the features.
"Oh please, m'lady, be seated now, before your feet get to tired. There will be plenty of time for strolling around and a little dance later on!" He took her gently by the arm and forced her into a big throne of marble, silver, gold, three types of carved exotic wood, and some parts of it were painted too.
Once she was seated behind an enormous table on the stage, the servant gave a signal to the trumpeters. They produced a nice regnal chord, and then the servant spoke up: "Silent, ye all, for Her Majesty wishes to speak!"
Two hundred and thirty five faces turned to Brenna, and all was eerily silent.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
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Completely amazed, Brenna stood stock-still for a moment, unable to move or even speak. Your Majesty?!? she thought, dumbfounded. This had to be a dream. She stumbled a little as she was forced into the throne, her mind moving faster than the wind itself.
Her mask? She put her fingers to her face, wondering in confusion what he meant. As realisation dawned, she felt the familiar pang of shame and anger whip through her, but strangely, it passed away again fast. Everybody thought it was a mask, whoever they were. And even if this was a only a dream, it meant that for once she didn't have to worry about it. A smile spread across her face and she pushed her hood back off her head completely.
Her eyes focussed on the crowd, and her heart almost stopped as she suddenly realised what they were expecting. What should she do now? Hoping her face had not turned to white, and that her legs would hold her if she stood up, she got shakily to her feet.
Um..., she thought. 'Thank you for such a welcome,' she called, hoping her voice did not quaver. 'Everyone has made such an effort with their costumes... very...' She bit back the word 'tasteful', and in doing so her grin returned. 'Very impressive.'
How to finish off? 'Um.. That is all.'
She sat down quickly, feeling slightly faint. How could they think she was a Queen? Surely her accent, her choice of words, would immediately tell all and sundry that she was not who they thought she was. Unless they thought she was putting it on to go with her costume.
And if this wasn't a dream, who were they all? And where in Tazlure had they all come from?
Her mask? She put her fingers to her face, wondering in confusion what he meant. As realisation dawned, she felt the familiar pang of shame and anger whip through her, but strangely, it passed away again fast. Everybody thought it was a mask, whoever they were. And even if this was a only a dream, it meant that for once she didn't have to worry about it. A smile spread across her face and she pushed her hood back off her head completely.
Her eyes focussed on the crowd, and her heart almost stopped as she suddenly realised what they were expecting. What should she do now? Hoping her face had not turned to white, and that her legs would hold her if she stood up, she got shakily to her feet.
Um..., she thought. 'Thank you for such a welcome,' she called, hoping her voice did not quaver. 'Everyone has made such an effort with their costumes... very...' She bit back the word 'tasteful', and in doing so her grin returned. 'Very impressive.'
How to finish off? 'Um.. That is all.'
She sat down quickly, feeling slightly faint. How could they think she was a Queen? Surely her accent, her choice of words, would immediately tell all and sundry that she was not who they thought she was. Unless they thought she was putting it on to go with her costume.
And if this wasn't a dream, who were they all? And where in Tazlure had they all come from?
All of a sudden, she noticed she was speaking to an empty hut. There was little pool of water on the floor, probably from the strom, but the hut was in perfect condition otherwise. There was a little stove, a big supply of wooden logs next to it. Brenna herself was seated on a wooden chair next to a pinewood table. There wasn't really any room left for anything else in the shack.
The unique smell of a forest just after rain was blown inside the hut by a forest breeze, the leaves on the trees applauding. The sun was shining now, already drying the moist grass outside the hut. The door was still open. There was no sign of the squirrel.
The unique smell of a forest just after rain was blown inside the hut by a forest breeze, the leaves on the trees applauding. The sun was shining now, already drying the moist grass outside the hut. The door was still open. There was no sign of the squirrel.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
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Brenna relaxed. A dream, that's all it was. She must have sat down on this chair as she entered the hut, and fallen asleep.
This story didn't quite seem to fit with what she remembered, but what other explanation could there be? Despite herself, she looked almost fearfully at the door. Shaking her head, she pulled off her cloak, which seemed still a little damp after the rain, and put it on the floor with her pack.
She pulled out her sketchbooks from the top of the bag. They didn't seem damaged at all, and she flicked to the first empty page of her most recent one, her damaged face twisting into a half smile as she noticed the last picture, drawn at her last rest stop. The bird was so free and alive, just like she had meant to be once she had escaped. But still she felt haunted by her past, and somehow she knew that her appearance would stop her from being accepted, wherever she went. So I dream about freaks like myself who have accepted me, she thought glumly. Well, that explains that.
She wished now that it had been real, rather than simply what she assumed it had been, a subconcious expression of her damaged self.
Leaving the books on the table, the girl knelt by the stove and began to build a fire. Perhaps she would be able to sleep the night in this hut, since noone seemed to be there at the moment. It was a shame that the squirrel had left, though. She would have liked to have drawn it. Through the door, the idyllic clearing was perfect for sketching.
'Maybe I could stay here a few days and draw?' she murmered to herself.
This story didn't quite seem to fit with what she remembered, but what other explanation could there be? Despite herself, she looked almost fearfully at the door. Shaking her head, she pulled off her cloak, which seemed still a little damp after the rain, and put it on the floor with her pack.
She pulled out her sketchbooks from the top of the bag. They didn't seem damaged at all, and she flicked to the first empty page of her most recent one, her damaged face twisting into a half smile as she noticed the last picture, drawn at her last rest stop. The bird was so free and alive, just like she had meant to be once she had escaped. But still she felt haunted by her past, and somehow she knew that her appearance would stop her from being accepted, wherever she went. So I dream about freaks like myself who have accepted me, she thought glumly. Well, that explains that.
She wished now that it had been real, rather than simply what she assumed it had been, a subconcious expression of her damaged self.
Leaving the books on the table, the girl knelt by the stove and began to build a fire. Perhaps she would be able to sleep the night in this hut, since noone seemed to be there at the moment. It was a shame that the squirrel had left, though. She would have liked to have drawn it. Through the door, the idyllic clearing was perfect for sketching.
'Maybe I could stay here a few days and draw?' she murmered to herself.
"And what, if I may ask, are you doing in my hut?" said an angry voice. It belonged to an elf who was pretty tall for his kind. He was holding two dead rabbits by the ears. "I would like you to leave my home immediately."
There was a bow in a quiver on his back, and a belt with a dagger around his waist. The elf looked like he knew how to use those things too, dressed in a green hunter's outfit. He wasn't ugly at all, but when looking as angry as he did, everybody looks repulsive, save little children, who look even cuter that way. His hair was invisible, tucked away in a green hood, unlike his dark brown eyes, that were apparently capable of a remarkably penetrating gaze.
"Well?"
There was a bow in a quiver on his back, and a belt with a dagger around his waist. The elf looked like he knew how to use those things too, dressed in a green hunter's outfit. He wasn't ugly at all, but when looking as angry as he did, everybody looks repulsive, save little children, who look even cuter that way. His hair was invisible, tucked away in a green hood, unlike his dark brown eyes, that were apparently capable of a remarkably penetrating gaze.
"Well?"
Verum et factum convertuntur.
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Flustered, Brenna stood up hurridly. She felt exposed without her cloak, and she hunched over, trying to shield herself from his angry gaze. 'I... I'm sorry... I was wet, and there was... a squirrel...' she trailed off from her babbling, realising how strange and incomprehensible her explanation sounded.
She grabbed her hood and shoved it over her head, shoving her drawings into her sack and making for the door almost in one movement. 'Wait...' she muttered, stopping suddenly. 'An elf?... but Katharr said that all the elves were... gone?' Forgetting to run, she stopped in the doorway, gazing at the adhiel, her hood askew across her face and her bag slung haphazardly over one shoulder.
Is feeling confused going to be my way of life from now on? she thought grimly, her bemused mind trying to find something, anything to latch onto that had a vague semblance of normality.
She grabbed her hood and shoved it over her head, shoving her drawings into her sack and making for the door almost in one movement. 'Wait...' she muttered, stopping suddenly. 'An elf?... but Katharr said that all the elves were... gone?' Forgetting to run, she stopped in the doorway, gazing at the adhiel, her hood askew across her face and her bag slung haphazardly over one shoulder.
Is feeling confused going to be my way of life from now on? she thought grimly, her bemused mind trying to find something, anything to latch onto that had a vague semblance of normality.
"I see, a squirrel and wet, a fine tale indeed, but I want you to go now."The man spoke some words in a language Brenna didn't know, but it was pretty clear to her that it wasn't some nice poem he was reciting. Already, he ignored Brenna, yet not in a way that could be interpreted as "Alright, you can stay then."
At her remark about "an elf" he turned around again, his eyes now resembling that of an angry serpent. "I am not 'an' anything, hear me? Not 'an elf', 'a citizen', 'a friend', ' a follower', understood? I am nothing but 'me' and I don't want to be addressed as anything else. Now be gone!"
He stepped in her direction in a very threatening way, until they reached the door. He pushed her out, then slammed the door. Brenna could still hear some words in the gibberish the man used, but apart from that, all was still. The wind made the leaves of the trees sigh.
At her remark about "an elf" he turned around again, his eyes now resembling that of an angry serpent. "I am not 'an' anything, hear me? Not 'an elf', 'a citizen', 'a friend', ' a follower', understood? I am nothing but 'me' and I don't want to be addressed as anything else. Now be gone!"
He stepped in her direction in a very threatening way, until they reached the door. He pushed her out, then slammed the door. Brenna could still hear some words in the gibberish the man used, but apart from that, all was still. The wind made the leaves of the trees sigh.
Last edited by Finodborn on Wed Jul 21, 2004 7:27 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
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ooc: Gah! Knew I was forgetting something somewhere! Sorry!
ic: Hastily brushing away the tears which had welled up in her eyes, Brenna stared at the trees for a burn. She should be used to being rejected by now, but it still hurt. She sighed. At least that was only because of me being in his hut, and not my face, she decided. She tried to push back the other thought which had popped into her head. Would he have let me stay if he hadn't seen what I look like?
He hadn't explained Katharr's strange comment, either. Well, she'd guessed he wasn't to be trusted. But now what was she going to do? At least she had dried off a little. Brenna looked wistfully at the trees shivering in the wind. She wanted to draw them but she didn't think the elf... or whatever he wanted to be called... would like her sitting outside his house. Perhaps she could stop and draw further into the trees. It didn't matter where she went, anyway. She had no idea where she was.
Trudging off into the forest, a strange thought struck her. He wants to be alone, like me. Or like I say I do. But I don't. Maybe he doesn't either. She stopped, and looked back at the hut. Part of her wanted to turn around and knock on the door. But she had no idea of what she would say if she did, and anyway, she was probably reading far too much into it.
ic: Hastily brushing away the tears which had welled up in her eyes, Brenna stared at the trees for a burn. She should be used to being rejected by now, but it still hurt. She sighed. At least that was only because of me being in his hut, and not my face, she decided. She tried to push back the other thought which had popped into her head. Would he have let me stay if he hadn't seen what I look like?
He hadn't explained Katharr's strange comment, either. Well, she'd guessed he wasn't to be trusted. But now what was she going to do? At least she had dried off a little. Brenna looked wistfully at the trees shivering in the wind. She wanted to draw them but she didn't think the elf... or whatever he wanted to be called... would like her sitting outside his house. Perhaps she could stop and draw further into the trees. It didn't matter where she went, anyway. She had no idea where she was.
Trudging off into the forest, a strange thought struck her. He wants to be alone, like me. Or like I say I do. But I don't. Maybe he doesn't either. She stopped, and looked back at the hut. Part of her wanted to turn around and knock on the door. But she had no idea of what she would say if she did, and anyway, she was probably reading far too much into it.
OOC: No prob at all!
As if the Father was after her in person, it started raining again upon the slamming of the door. On her way to the edge of the denser growth, she had her feet all wet again in but a few flickers. It was truly a miserable day.
There was nothing to be heard but the -now gentle, but still wet- rainfall, and her nostrils were filled with the sour smell of a wet forest. When she stopped, and turned back to the hut, a faint smell of roasted meat fought to be noticed in the burlesque background of pine and rotten leaves. Then again, the smell was faint enough to be a product of Brenna's imagination.
From the little chimney of the hut rose a little bit of smoke, only visible in the rain because of its dark grey color. The strange squirrel was not to be seen.
As if the Father was after her in person, it started raining again upon the slamming of the door. On her way to the edge of the denser growth, she had her feet all wet again in but a few flickers. It was truly a miserable day.
There was nothing to be heard but the -now gentle, but still wet- rainfall, and her nostrils were filled with the sour smell of a wet forest. When she stopped, and turned back to the hut, a faint smell of roasted meat fought to be noticed in the burlesque background of pine and rotten leaves. Then again, the smell was faint enough to be a product of Brenna's imagination.
From the little chimney of the hut rose a little bit of smoke, only visible in the rain because of its dark grey color. The strange squirrel was not to be seen.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
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The water squelched between her toes. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the smell she thought she could detect made Brenna's taste buds water. It was a while since she had eaten anything like real food. The hunger helped her make up her mind. The lonely girl stepped out of the forest, back into the clearing, and walked towards the hut.
She knocked on the door, this time pulling her hood well over her face and arm. In her mind, she rehearsed what she would say, if the elf... man... whatever he wanted to be called... answered it. I apologise... no! I'm sorry... I didn't mean to offend you. Could I wait here until the rain stops?
She couldn't ask him for food. That would be too much. But maybe he would offer her some, if he even let her in.
She knocked on the door, this time pulling her hood well over her face and arm. In her mind, she rehearsed what she would say, if the elf... man... whatever he wanted to be called... answered it. I apologise... no! I'm sorry... I didn't mean to offend you. Could I wait here until the rain stops?
She couldn't ask him for food. That would be too much. But maybe he would offer her some, if he even let her in.
As Brenna came closer, the delicious smell became stronger and stronger. Apparently the hermit elf was an excellent cook. Brenna hadn't eaten in a while, and she had made quite a tiring walk.
There came no response from the hut as Brenna knocked on the door a couple of times. Perhaps the man had a hearing condition. More likely he was ignoring her.
There came no response from the hut as Brenna knocked on the door a couple of times. Perhaps the man had a hearing condition. More likely he was ignoring her.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.