Sure steps of brown brutality stepped into the bend of the river. Red eyes searching, flitting from the moss covered trees, hanging down like tendrils of soft pelage. The barren, skeletal fingers reaching forever for the sky.
Deep even breathing is loud in the silence. A heavy foreboding thing, that lay against his fur like electricity wires. Digging, swirling. He lay tattered ears to his head and back up again, trying in vain to hear anything, but the absolute echoing quiet all around them.
There was nothing, even a hushed whisper that would brush, and sway his ear tips, would sound like a foghorn here. The leaves crumbled and fluttered beneath him, staining his brown legs, gray. Nothing stirred, but he and the Saga
@Khasni, as they continued their search for the poisons that would lay on her white skinned fur. That would bring death to any who dared to touch her, if Dreven didn't get to them first.
With the known rarity of the flora she sought, their search would likely be a lengthy one. Though, she couldn't help but silently admit how little she would mind the wait given the current company she held.
Ears swiveling to and fro often, small grunts escaped her here and there. The insects today were relentless. Every so often, she'd even nip at the air in attempt to frighten them off. Rancid pests...
Khasni muttered beneath the fold of her breath.
Now turning her attention to the harbinger, the Saga curled her lip in a more humorous notion. Grown tired of the walk yet?
After all, he was a hulking beast compared to herself. Surely the length of traveling would tire him eventually, considering all the weight he carried. We search for foxglove, a decently sized purple flower. If touched by the tongue, it can cause irritation, nausea, and severe headaches. But then if ingested, fatality is likely, if not definite. The idea is to mush it into a paste and spread it thinly across whatever fleece I choose to wear.
The thought itself — death via poison — sent a crude, pleasurable shiver down her spine. If, upon finding it, she may even consider feeding it to some creature or another just to see it in the works.
Surprise colored the dark beast as he realized, he was enjoying himself. Very rarely did he get to go out in search of something, and enjoy the company and the time. Normally the pit of despair and wariness would dig deep into his chest and stomach.
And he had to admit the noise that would leave the lips of the Saga, made his brain run, but he kept silent about that. Though he could understand her irritation. Bugs he could handle. There had been many in the pits. Creepy crawlies whom preferred the dark and damp to the light and warmth, so they rarely sought out him and the others there.
Though even there, there were some that you needed to watch for. Careful. Careful they used to murmur when they'd see one. Pinchy nasty things that would curl at yours ears and then be forced off, always leaving a chunk in their mouth from your ear.
But these flyings ones, they were a new type of hell. Buzzy and little. Swarming and collecting. At eyes, ears and mouth. Disgusting. Vile. Little Gnats.
Dreven could not stop the smirk that settled upon his mouth, or the gentle inflection in his voice. Showing both his humor and his honesty at once as he spoke, looking down at his partner.
My stamina is renown. I am fine. I assure you.
Though he would grow tire before her, he knew. There was a sizable difference between the two, and though his frame was used to carrying him. He was more for bursts of speed, versus long treks, but he would keep quiet about it.
Tattered ears turned down towards her, and he looked down at her at she spoke again. Foxglove, he searched his mind for such a poison and could not remember it, though he wondered if it was the one that looked like a star burst.
It is the one with many little cupped flowers?
"My stamina is renown. I am fine. I assure you."
You say that now,
She mused, nose wrinkling with a light sense of amusement. I trust it won't be much farther.
Then again, humor didn't bode well with her demeanor if left too long. Oft she would switch from such to straight seriousness in a matter of seconds. It was confusing to keep up with, even for her.
Khasni grew surprised as the harbinger described the sought out plant in, almost perfect, detail. Yes... something like that. You really do know much of flora.
He was a beast of many talents, so it seemed.
He gave her a wolfish grin, but didn't say more. Their little spirit speaker was not one to hold a joke long. He had inferred. He knew eventually, he may push to far one day and ne soundly abraided.
He shook his head. He only knew some things. Nothing paramount. I only know what green eye father shared
He nosed a the water edge. Where does it grow?
"I only know what green eye father shared."
A question rang in her mind, but she would save until after his next one had been answered.
"Where does it grow?"
It fills in the gaps of the ferns. Where you see tall growth, look carefully for the vibrant purple-pink shade. There is white too, but I do not desire it now.
Perhaps later it would become of use, but the other was far more effective.
Green eyed father...
Now she returned to his former statement, mimicking the way the beast had called the sire of his creation. Why do you call him this?
Khasni wondered silently if it was a sensitive topic. But then, if it was, he could simply refuse to answer. Though, she hoped he didn't. It was time she learned more of the harbinger.
Dreven nodded and moved towards the ferns. He only moved close enough, and with a stick he grasped in his maw, he gently moved the ferns apart. He knew that it woudn't do much if he were to touch it with paw, but he didn't want to touch it with wet nose. He looked for the object.
Dreven looked at her surprised. Because the queen took his name. He had no name, but green eye father. He taught me of plants and gods and goddesses. And blood sacrifice, and how to protect and fight.
The fondness for his sire, dripped into his words. His other family he hated, with everything, and there were days he even hated his father for giving him life. For making him live the existence he had, but then at the same time. He had learned and grew. Because of him.
"Because the queen took his name. He had no name, but green eye father."
None can take a name. When it is given, it remains. Whether marked by title of power, it was not something for her to take.
He could scorn her all day for speaking against the authority of his former matriarch, but that did erase the fact of truth.
As the harbinger plucked away at the poisonous stems, the small woman reached between the ferns and collected them one by one, tucking them into a large leaf she'd found laying nearby.
Address him by his known name. Respect your father for who he was to you-.. not some entitled queen.
A soft-spoken command. He could choose whether to listen, but she would acknowledge none without a proper name.
Dreven was want to agree, but the queen had taken it. His father had no name. None that he knew. It wasn't even whispered by him or his queen or his mother. There was nothing.
Dreven shifted allowing her more room to gather while he kept the stems away from her. He would not have their quarry poison.
Dreven shifte and looked down at her.
I cannot. I don't know it. It never crossed his lips. He only answered to father on a good day or seer.
Dreven swallowed thickly. For a moment lost in the dregs of time.
I only have.
His voice was a whisper of a thing, silent and unsure. He studied the little spirit seeker below him.
I only have what he gave me. I have been given a name 3x in my life. Once by my mother on my birth. Once by green eye father, and the queen bestowed a name..
He stared at her red eyes boring. She would know something Malacath did not if he gave her his 2nd. Though he knew by now she would know his first.
My first as you know is Dreven. My second given by green eye father is Layre for his father. He gave it to me on my 2nd birthday.
Pretty sure she'd know his first name by now. Al uses it all the timr. Lol