Redsand Canyon Voithó

After his patrol with the newcomer Towhee, Arsenio had slipped down into the canyon in hopes of finding the dark pelt of someone familiar. He had tested the scent of the air, hoping that he might catch the herbal smell of the healer, but he could not find one among the other smells.

Padding to a cache that he had worked to create, the Greek pulled out a long hare and clutched it in his teeth. He carried the prey to a good area of the canyon, one where they could meet, and he searched the redstone for signs of anyone approaching. Mereo was quiet, that day. It was likely that they were all out tending to their duties.

Arsenio placed the rabbit at his paws and drew back his head to call for @Aquene. He hoped she might treat him to a sparring session.

At this point she was certain it was no secret amongst the pack that she had been training for a role she did not yet carry. Germanicus admitted that the structure of Mereo did not support both her job and the life of a soldier into one role, but she was promised that continued effort would eventually grant her recognition. She had been meaning to seek out the Greek to request a spar herself for some time, though her recent spar with Towhee had put a pause into that plan.
 
Even now, two days after, she was faced down with soreness in her limbs from pushing herself in ways she had never dreamed about doing before a month ago… except she heard his call, and she responded, offering a call of her own to signify that she was on her way. She left the herbal den, heading towards the sound of his voice. When she arrived, she offered him a warm smile. “Is everything okay?” That was her first concern, as a healer it would always be.

The woman appeared, friendly as ever.

Arsenio smiled upon her, waving his tail. He thought that the lady Aquene seemed mildly out of place among the hard-faced soldiers of Mereo. The Greek man was not someone who would scoff at such things. He had been the odd one many times before. Time had given him the serenity to have pride in such uniqueness.

All is well, all is well, he assured her with a chuckle.

I have come to see if you would like to train your body in the way of a soldier.

The redstone wolf’s eyes fixed on her curiously. If Aquene could master her roles as both a healer and a soldier, Arsenio believed that she would excel above the others. After all, what good was a soldier who only knew how to maim and defend?

The more she learned, the more Aquene believed that she could balance both. The ways of the soldier and the ways of the healer opposed each other, but existed in perfect balance and in harmony. She could be fierce on the battlefield while maintaining the calming nature she carried as a healer outside of a fight. She offered him a relieved smile when he assured her that everything was well. She had worried for a moment that he was ill, or that perhaps something had happened to his lovely wife who Aquene found herself quite fond of and considered a friend.
 
A spar? She grinned at that, an eager nod. “Yes please.” She was prepared to do whatever she could in order to improve. She’d been complimented on her speed and quick thinking in a fight, but going up against a man like Arsenio… well, that ought to be a challenge, yes? “I would love to.” She let that fierce determination and devious glint spark in her eye, shifting from the nature he knew of her by now to the nature she had so quickly captivated in her training, something fierce and determined to win.

The Greek man was pleased that she agreed so readily to his offer. He had not anticipated that she would turn him down, but he had captured her scent along the canyon claim and he found himself wondering how she was settling in with the other soldiers. Judging by the expression on her face, Arsenio believed that things were going well.

Polý kalá, he said swiftly, swaying his tail until his hips moved along with it.

We start at the beginning or are you versed in sparring, healer? the man asked her thoughtfully, hoping that they would not have to struggle through many of the basic movements. The times that he had listened to her speak, Arsenio would have wagered that Aquene had lived a large enough life to know something about the art of war.

She did not understand the first words to fall off of his tongue, but it triggered a reaction in her brain. Upon the question, in English, she found herself responding in her own native tongue without realizing it. “Да. Я готов.” She had seen spars happen in her life, and even now she had done quite a few with wolves in Mereo, particularly with Germanicus and Kallik as she started to learn the basics of how to properly engage in a fight. It was one thing to watch, and another thing to do.
 
She had seen much before, been through even more… and in her time, she had seen the way wounds had affected those she treated. In many ways, her role as a healer in the midst of a war had helped her greatly. She knew exactly where to hit in order to be effective, to take a man out at his knees if she needed to… the only question was if she was smart enough to find a way. She shifted, settling herself in a defensive position as she eyed him, uncertain if she should make the first move or not. There were still many things to learn.

The man did not understand her native tongue, but he was able to ascertain that she was ready. The smile did not fade from his features. He was pleased to have found such pleasurable company within Mereo. Before he had left the mesa, Arsenio had wondered if the Roman would be his only friend. The canyon had opened his eyes, though. There were others who were worth his time, worth his honesty. The Imperator had gathered a good group beneath him.

Arsenio moved into a prowl. His head was kept low, protective of his throat. The roll of his muscles was a practiced one.

When the mercenary darted toward Aquene, his teeth aimed for her cheek. He would hope that she would try to pull free from the strike and leave her neck open. If this was the case, he would greedily latch on with the softest pinch – just enough to draw a yelp.

Aquene had not realized the slip. It had been so long since she used the language in any capacity that she usually did not notice such idle slips. Still, the man seemed to get the point and was prowling. She set herself, remembering all that she had learned up to that point as she drew in a steady breath to even herself, exhaling as he moved towards her cheek. Better an ear than your life. The words had been said during her first spar with the Roman patriarch, but they had clung to her like disease on a leper.
 
She pulled back, her chin tucking as she shifted to slam her shoulder forward instead of pulling back all together. She had come to accept that injuries and bruising were a part of sparing and inevitable in a fight as well. Pulling away altogether felt more like a method to flee. She hoped to disorient him and catch him off guard with such a counter strike, aiming to nip at the top of one of his forelegs instead. She knew how in a real fight blood could ooze quickly from wounds to the extremities, and had to treat soldiers for as much many times. It would be a vulnerable place, and one she felt was often overlooked as well, at least in her own experience sparring with Germanicus and Kallik.

The mercenary was pleased and surprised by the healer’s willingness to face their spar with brazen confidence. She did not pull from his bite. Aquene seemed to dive into it. Her own teeth aimed for the man’s limbs. Arsenio was also not afraid of bruises or scrapes that pertained to a fight. He was eager to see the capability behind her figure, the sharpness of her skill.

The redstone wolf continued his push. Their bodies met and her teeth found purchase in Arsenio’s flesh. He found that the sharp prick of pain was familiar. It was not something that he had felt in many months, and it had sparked the man’s fighting spirit. How fortunate that Aquene would fight against a demigod. She would learn so much.

Arsenio’s arms were raised. He pushed with his hind feet toward her – the mercenary’s forelimbs were raised and stretched to grip her in a hold. The Greek was not afraid of being so close. He wanted her to feel the force of his body. The man breathed heavy with the efforts, but his spirit was invigorated.

It was another chance to learn, and she would take it with open paws. She locked onto her target and held it for a moment, feeling as his forelimbs stretched and wrapped around her which caused her to release her grip, one burning question in her mind: how could she use this weight to her advantage. She took that moment to relax her muscles, hoping that the sudden onset of gravity where her form had previously supported him would expose him and allow her to shift.
 
Her hope was to roll to her back and kick her limbs up in order to send him staggering back. If she could just knock the wind out of him then she could give herself some time. She had an excited grin on her features the entire time. This was proving to be quite fun… a word she never thought she would use for fighting. She had come to not only expect but also enjoy the bruising and cuts that came from spars, though she was not sure she’d like the injuries from a real fight nearly as much.

The woman rolled back, and Arsenio followed. He did not want to allow her to place distance between them. The more time that she had to regain her footing and thoughts, the more time there was for her to plan her counter.

Aquene kicked up against him. The air was knocked from his lungs. Arsenio hacked and coughed but did not cower against the touch of her feet. He shoved his frame against her own, pushing through the wheezing that he felt in his chest. The healer looked like she was enjoying herself, which was all that the mercenary could have hoped for.

The redstone wolf snapped at her with his teeth, not aiming to draw any blood. He hoped that he might nip at the underside of her throat to spark fear. There would not be much more sparring in them if they kept up at the pace they were going, but Arsenio hoped that she might have learned one or two things in the effort of it.

The man did not recoil like she expected, instead pressing his weight against her and she found a snarl escaping, the closeness uncomfortable and suffocating as she dropped one side of her body to go limp, the other pushing harder in hopes of throwing him off of her completely. His teeth snapped to nip near her neck and she drew her muzzle down, preferring to take a blow to that rather than a blow to the neck. It was easier to heal a maw than a life.
 
Fear coursed through her body with the adrenaline, though deep down she knew that Arsenio would not hurt her. She trusted him that much, and trusted that Tamar would not have been whisked away and married by such a man. It couldn’t fight that instinctual response… to protect her life. It was one she had been so used to feeling and yet had only truly felt a handful of times.

It was easy to get swept away in the heat of the moment, fangs snapping at each other, bodies dancing to avoid the brunt of any damage. Arsenio could feel the tightness that took hold of her. He understood that tangling that closely to each other would prove fatal to anyone who did not know how to shirk their attacker. Aquene could learn these things well enough – better that she do so with someone who’s intentions were friendly.

When the mercenary felt they had spat and snarled at each other, he sprang back. Distance was placed between them. Arsenio’s sides swelled with deep breaths. That was enough, he thought. It was enough for the first sparring session. There would be more in the future, no doubt.

You are okay? he inquired with a small huff.

She found herself withdrawing quickly from him, a guarded look on her features as she breathed in and then slowly out, calming herself in that moment as she kept the comfortable distance, nodding at first to his question with no verbal answer, taking a moment to formulate her words.
 
“Yeah, I’m good.” She assured him softly once she had caught her breath. “Where did you learn how to fight?” She asked curiously. Arsenio was clearly a talented soldier, and she had known that from the moment she stepped foot in Mereo and met him, but she wondered where he had acquired these skills. He was good… not that she really expected any less.

Aquene was guarded for several moments. The mercenary did not press her. He let her find a distance that was comfortable while holding his footing where he had landed. When she seemed to have caught her breath, speaking clearly, Arsenio plopped to a sit.

She wanted to know where he had learned to fight.

Where I am from, young men are turned to soldiers. My own father threw me from the cliffs and into the sea when I was only a year of age, he answered carefully. Since that day, I have journeyed to many places and have fought for many men. The red-furred wolf offered her a small smile, revealing only the tips of his teeth from beneath his lip.

It was tooth and claw that taught me. To fail was to risk death.

Separating her emotions from her actions and the moment was a skill she was looking to work on and improve. It had gotten the best of her before. She admired the control that the mercenary in front of her had. It had prompted the question, to know how he had developed himself into such a fighting machine. It seemed like every pack was military in nature… or perhaps that was, understandably, the sort of wolf that Mereo simply attracted. Her eyes widened at the revelation. “Off a cliff and into the sea? And you survived?” There was a hint of awe in her voice. She had never heard of such things before. It sounded much like a miracle.
 
Since then he had been fighting. Tooth and claw had taught him. Her eyes softened and with it came an admission of her own. “Women were not permitted to learn to fight where I am from. We were to be seen and not heard and certainly never lift a claw against another. I’ve learned what I know here at Mereo, but nowhere else.” She admitted again, valuing that which she had learned from the Imperator, from Kallik, and now from the Greek mercenary in front of her. “Were you ever afraid? Afraid of failing? Of dying?” The question came again and of a much more personal nature.

Aquene seemed awed by his answer, that he should be thrown from the peak and into the swirling waters of the ocean. The Greek man did not wish to laugh at her. He only smiled softly and nodded his head once. Survived and thrived, Arsenio had not been deterred by his father’s choice to banish him from his homeland.

The healer woman shared that her own people did not typically allow women to fight. He listened quietly, wondering why they would choose this path for their wives and sisters. Not all of them would seek battle, surely. It was not in the hearts of all men, so why would all women seek to draw blood? Arsenio thought to ask, but before he could say something about the homeland she had escaped, Aquene had asked him another question.

I was not. It seemed a simple answer.

I did not have anything to fear. What is death but a journey to the afterlife? I had already lost my home, so failure did not frighten me, he explained somewhat further. A quietness overcame him, and the redstone wolf slipped into something more thoughtful.

But things are different now. Now I have much to lose.

The woman had many questions but she bit her tongue, refraining from asking any of them. It seemed like it had been some time ago… surely it was a painful memory, right? What puzzled him more was his answer to her questions. A journey to the afterlife? She did not know if she could see death that way, having been surrounded by it for so long. It gave her much to consider. “I have always feared death.” It had kept her alive more than once, like fleeing the Trail where she would most certainly be dead by now had she not.
 
She brought a soft smile onto her features at his comment. “And there are others who would lose much by losing you. Tamar would lose a loving husband, the Imperator would lose a loyal soldier, and I would lose a friend.” She offered back. It was interesting to see the moment that wolves realized they had reasons to live for, reasons to fear death… her life had always been enough for her, but for others it simply was not… she supposed some religion or belief in the afterlife would do that as well.

I'm dreadfully sorry for having you wait, dear! I have cracked a few of my teeth and my little noggin is suffering from it. Every time I try to write I think about my aching mouth. 

I would LOVE another - slightly more current - thread with these two? Arsenio will want to check on her progress and know how she is doing. <3 If you're alright with that, I can write one up for us real quick. ^w^

Tamar, yes – Arsenio felt himself weighed with the love he felt for her. She was his world, everything that mattered to him in a caring and gentle-tongued package. The redstone mercenary did not know what he would do without her, after having known her. Love had bewitched him in a way that removed rational thought and logical decisions. With each passing day, as his love grew for his wife, Arsenio still hummed with hatred for the Pharaoh who had tried to break her.

You are surprisingly kind with your tongue, Aquene. For someone who is so sharp with her teeth.

The man offered her a toothy grin.

I believe our friendship will be a strong one. Arsenio did not doubt it. He thought the dark healer woman was a gift to Mereo, a gift to their people. She would adapt into something mighty, something fierce beyond reckoning. Behind her ability to fight would rest the knowledge of a medic.

Shall we return to the living quarters? Find something to eat, perhaps.

No problem! I've experienced that pain before take all the time you need <3

And YES I am always down for more Arsenio threads! Feel free to throw a starter. I'm in finals and graduating in about a week and a half so my responses might be a little slow for the time being

She let a soft smile on her features, a wink in his direction in a more teasing manner before she responded to his light jest. “Only those who get on my bad side deserve my sharp teeth, friends deserve the kindness they exude.” She countered back to him. Their friendship would be strong and she had much to learn from him just as she did the rest of the soldiers who resided amongst Mereo.
 
“Indeed. Some food would do us both some good, I think.” She offered, motioning with her head as she began the trek, her friend alongside as she no doubt rambled on about this or that. She had learned through her times as a physician how to fill the sound space around them when patients were too quiet for a conversation, and it carried into her social life.