One with the Trees (Drama x DoctorRed)

[DRAMA]

The sun had set only a few hours ago and the forest seemed more alive already. The oaks and birch trees seemed to let loose all of the nocturnal life all at once. Rodents came from their burrows in search of a meal as did their nemesis the owls. Larger predators were waking up and were now on the move. The occasional howl of a distant wolf could be heard while the moon overhead was almost full. Few clouds seemed to be about this fine and comfortable spring evening, allowing the light from the lunar orb to illuminate the grounds below.

Three days had passed since Weebee had been taken captive. The amalgam of feathered equine satyr and fey made her quite strange for anyone outside of the forest, but the druids were good friends with her. After all, her mother had left her with them to raise her. Being bound and practically starved for her entirety of her imprisonment, Weebee had been growing weaker. The orcs who had tricked and captured her didn't seem to notice or care. She had pleaded with them several times for something to nourish her, but the crude humanoids weren't interested in her 'whining', as they called it.

With the sun long gone, the orcs' campfire seemed to shine so much brighter in the dark. The smoke from the young trees used in it was thick and gray, billowing out of the deciduous canopy. The lead orc, a male who Weebee had deduced was named Keldern, already had his small band setting their crude tents up for the night while he oversaw the dead animal being cooked for dinner. Several times Weebee had tried to lay down, but Keldern insisted she stay standing as long as everyone else did. This had made things far more tiresome to the fey female as she wasn't a hardened and muscled brute.

Leaning against a tree, Weebee sighed unsure of what to try next. The last time she had tried to speak with the orcs, she had been gagged for a few hours. That was after her attempts to barter her freedom in exchange for some magical services she came to find they didn't care about. She was trying a new angle with Keldern tonight. Maybe he would be a little more receptive this time. Even though her arms had been bound, Weebee had been put on a tether to allow her some freedom to use the restroom in privacy if needed. Walking to the end of her tether, she called for the lead orc.

"Keldern? Could I speak with you?" Weebee called to him. The larger orc male looked up from the fire with a tired face. He grimaced as the frail fey called out his name. He let out a deep sigh of frustration and ordered one of the lessor orcs to keep working on burning the dead animal. With rather heavy steps and the tinkling noise from his chain mail, Keldern grabbed the fey by her restraints and marched her back to the tree where she was tied.

"Fey, I have no interest in your tree magic. I will not let you go. I will not give you anything we have to eat as you did not help kill it, you do not eat it. What more is there we could talk about?" he said with an annoyed tone. His heavy hand rubbed his face, trying to clear the aggravation from it. Weebee looked a little dismayed, but knew she had to try something. She was tried to avoid eye contact with the orc as she spoke, but she found she had to look at him to try and convince him.

"Keldern, I understand your position. I understand why you need to take me to your tribe. But I honestly have objects of power that are worth far more than my flesh could ever provide. Please, unbind me and I will prove my words. You or one of your men can hold a knife to my throat to keep me honest. Just hear me ou--" she was cut off by the orc's sudden movement. His hand came to rest on her throat. He seemed to growl a little as he spoke.

"Fey, none of you can be trusted. I demand silence from you." Keldern stated rather close to her face. Weebee had reached up and grabbed at his arm as he clamped harder on her throat. Slowly, she felt herself losing consciousness as the life was being drained from her. Keldern wouldn't kill her, just knocking her out without all that knocking. Her slowly breathing body rested at the base of the tree. The night disappeared as she 'rested'. However, the means in which she would be awoken wouldn't be something she wanted to remember.

Weebee came to with her mouth gagged worse than before. The soiled rag smelled musty and down right disgusting. She didn't bother to move her arms knowing they would still be bound, but then the realization her body was moving, she tried to sit up some to regain her senses. It was then she realized there were three of the seven orcs were standing around her... and through the haze her eyes were still in, she could still tell they were rubbing their arousals. Then the sensations hit her. There was an orc violating her most intimate of places.

Immediately she attempted to stand to pull herself to her feet, but the strong hands on her thighs pulled her back down into his member. Her genitalia could handle him, but she didn't want this. It hurt and it was he worst thing she had ever experienced. His thrusting and clawing on her hindquarters stung. Her struggles only brought the attention of the other orcs. One of the masturbating males came forward and grabbed a handful of her feathery hair, shoving his member against her cheek, rubbing it on the soft flesh. Weebee could only break down in tears as none of the orcs would stop, even if she could plead to them.

At some point, her clothes had been discarded, further violating her. One orc had pulled her body up to double penetrate her with the orc who'd began raping her first. By the end of their 'session', she was a pile of crying quivering flesh; orkish semen dripping from her groin. Sobbing into her gag, which she discovered was made from the under clothing of one of the orcs, she just curled up as best she could hoping they would kill her before violating her again.

[DoctorRed]

The dark is deep, and full of terrors. The words rang in his ears, the sodden torch in his hand tucked into his belt as  he leered down at the mess under him.  Even wearing the shadows cast by canopy and cloud, he knew the form and it's origin was no mystery to him.  The realm weeps for monsters and unnatural things where men fear to tread. It was a trifling thing, to him, but he remembered a time when he might have fled, in fear of it's nature. But that was years ago, and he was no longer that man. The man now was accustomed to the unnatural and strange. He drank with the bizarre in the evening and in his nightly journeys, he made his heart harder by slaying demons.

The night was indeed full of terrors and he knew too many of them by name.  Had he always been fighting monsters, or only outside of the castles and cities, where the pillar that was man seemed more like to crumble than prevail? He wasn't sure. Sometimes it was the men who were monsters, and the monsters who seemed troubled by shadows. This troubled him at times, but the days of weeping as his blade cut down those who did unjustice were behind him. A long stay among the tribes out in the wilds had taught him that, and he was better for it.

An exiled knight, he'd been discarded for what was considered 'bad advice', though he knew it was truly the close-mindedness of his own people that sent him here. The king himself had decreed that the man who'd been his left hand, Sir Brandon Hillfire was to be stripped of his honor, his house, his lands, his wife and his titles. No more future lived in the society he'd been apart of, so, like his forebearers before him, he found himself a ranger. It had been the source of many japes and taunts in the first year, when he often came upon those who had been men he'd held dear so long ago. They had joked that his father had been half a giant himself, and as a bastard monster, it was no wonder he'd sunk to butchery in the dark of night, and they were shocked to find he'd risen to his place before revealing himself as a turncloak and a wild-man. He let the words slide off like so much wind, discarding the commentary and taking only the teachings of those who had a mind to teach. Learning from the shadows and taking their secrets into his own teachings. He found it a thousand times more satisfying, japes or no japes.

It had been four years since he'd been cast out, and from the rags of his exile, he'd flourished into some man he'd scarcely have recognized, if only he'd a wizard to allow himself to meet the boy he'd been. Sometimes Bran wondered if he would look upon a stream and find that he were a wildling, one of the barbarians to the north, or even some strange orcish face peering back, yellow eyes in the blue waters. He supposed not,but his doubts lingered sometimes as he found himself in the wilds, far removed from the humans he called kin. The four years an outcast, and twenty years in service to the king made him twenty five.

Thick leather boots made the base of the ranger, thick and worn things that had walked many miles, carried the man across mountains and through bogs.  His raiment had once been foreign to him, but now he wore as though it were his own skin.  He'd traded the knightly garb of the steel  and iron for the  skins and mail of a ranger. His cloak still bore the colors of his house, though the clasp was plain, as with many of the things he carried. Down to the bone, he'd been stripped and his  clothing was that which he'd earned by serving smallfolk in the hills and near forests. Much of it was an imitation of what it'd been, the gleaming and polished steel of a champion, but it had all been proven in battle, something the ornament of man would have withered and cracked beneath.  His hair remained, long and uncut as the day he'd been cast out, but now it was dirty and unkempt, much the way of his beard and facial hair. He supposed it made him look fearsome, but the truth of it was that he simply couldn't be bothered with vanity. An hour shaving in the morning was an hour not moving and not moving int he wilds was death to even the well-groomed.

The creature he now tread upon had been a scout of sorts, he was sure, and it's body was writhing still as he stepped on the throat, earning a good long spasm of pain. He watched for a few moments, the way a lizard watches an insect before snatching up. So snatch he did, his bootheel twisting, crushing the windpipe in earnest, the Orcish scout flickering and dying as he looked around. He supposed there were a good bunch left. He wondered to himself what they must be doing here, and decided it didn't matter. The night was full of terrors, what were a few less?

When he'd arrived at this forest where  he'd once known druids to live, he found a rape in progress. Someone had defiled the forest in a manner that made him grind his teeth. Man-shaped tracks had led him deeper in, and it'd been a long ride into the forest before he'd abandoned his mount and gone afoot, begrudgingly passing by the paths that might have taken him to see the druids, he supposed they'd be more willing to treat with him if he found the source of the devastation.

The sight of death under his feet, bleeding among the leaves was a welcome one. He may be half a wildling now, but he still felt his heart flicker when he drew steel on a human. No man is as accursed as a kinslayer, so what was he, who shook off his kin and cut down those who crossed him in the darkness? He supposed he might well have been a terror himself, ranging into the unknown and learning as he dealt out help as often as he dealt out death.

The orc had been a scout of sorts and he'd cut off the arm that had reached for the axe. Relieving him of the weapon had been easy with him no longer around to question it, and he'd made his way back in his footsteps, lurking along the way he knew elves to. His proficiency with creeping was diminished by his race, but he'd been adept at watching and learning and it drew him up to another scout with passable stealth. They were large, but not a troubling amount larger than he was himself, and he wasn't one to be cowed by a creature larger than him. They said he was half a giant, and who was to argue? He was upon him before the creature drew again, though this one had the sense to howl as he struck out, the creature gagging on blood as he moved past it, discarding the creeping for speed, his sword in his off hand and held  handle up.  The stolen hatchet in his hand, poised to be thrown at his next opponent, wherever he should crop up.

The fires were a ways off, but it didn't daunt him. A single fire meant a smaller camp, and a smaller camp he could handle himself. He stode forward and reached into his cloak, producing the horn he'd kept from the mountains before it. He blew, and the sound echoed through the darkness, stirring the deep terrors and calling up the courage that he buried in his heart, stepping forward before he turned to the side, prepared to take them unawares at the flank, if need be.

When he arrived creeping in the camp, another guard fell to a stolen orcish axe and he turned to look upon the fires that were burning. He wondered if flames had ever seemed so uncouth before he'd been cast out. Here in the forest, watching the smoke proclaim the crime, he would almost weep at the sight of it. He'd half a mind to kick dirt over it and hesitated as he looked over the shoddy tents. He supposed he ought to look through them for loot or something, but it wasn't often that a warhorn went unmanned and he was certain they'd be back shortly. He took up a burning log in a mailed fist and set about, laying along the edges of tents and watching the lot going up in flames, the crimson glow licking along the dried skins and supports. He was pleased at his work and turning to go, leaving the way he'd entered when he saw the creature.

"Cry out, or scream, and burn as well." She looked curious to him, and strange, but he recognized some parts. He also recognized what had happened as he knelt nearby, reaching up tentatively as he snatched away the gag, casting it aside, his words uttered in the shadows. He had his sword in hand as he looked upon her, the firelight bathing him in the orange glow as he watched her. He paused before swinging the bloodied blade, but not to end her misery, only to free her from bondage, cutting down the tether and then the bindings, though he took some care not to rend her asunder doing it, rising to make for the trees, his back on her. She was naked and raped, weaponless and alone. If she were going to kick him with her hooves as thanks, he supposed he'd earned it otherwise, he'd made right the wrong of the orcs for now. No sense in staying around to play with the remainder as he slipped off into the darkness, his hunger for terrors sated, at least at the moment, cloak brushing along as he stepped past narrow trees.

[DRAMA]

She had only a little while to rest before the din of a crude horn bellow tore through the soothing cracklings of the campfire. Keldern and the orcs were on the prowl again, their hunger never diminishing. They had left her with a few laughs and a dwindling fire, but the snaps and crackles of the wet wood burning eventually had soothed her to a dreamless nap. How her muscles ached as she lay on the ground after such a moment.

The horn had pulled her from the light slumber. Confused and aching, she shifted her weight to try and figure out why this horn was being sounded. She knew the orcs did not possess such an instrument, so she was both excited and scared as to who or what could now be so near. It wasn't long before she could smell him.

A man came from the shadowy brush, turmoil and emotions unknown upon his bearded face. She pulled her spindly legs closer to her, unaware of what his intentions could be. Soon, he revealed his disgust for the orcs as he torched their tents. Weebee was glad to see he wasn't on their side, but was still cautious as he wasn't on hers either.

The man approached her and spoke firmly. This was no young male, but a man who had lived. His voice carried sorrow and anguish, but she did not let that influence her feelings about him. She remained quiet as she had no desire to get in his way, however, once freed and standing, she was now more than capable of handling the mess of orcs. She then realized how tall the man was once he had freed her. He was quite tall for someone of his appearance, making her stature seem rather dainty and frail.

Without saying a sound, she backed into the tree she was tethered to, melding into the bark and pulp of the aged maple. Soon only her eyes were visible. Then she waited.

It wasn't shortly after before a pair of the orcs returned to find the man. Seeing the fey was missing, they knew he was to blame. For the sake of their honor and place in their raiding party, both raised their weapons and growled at the man. Charging at him would be their last mistake.

Off in the bushes still, Keldern watched the two rush to their death. With his advanced age, he wasn't as stupid as the younger dogs were, not as foolish. It was then he decided he and the other orcs remaining would call this raid a loss and return home to shame from their elder. To live another day was Keldern's prerogative and fighting this man was surely fatal for the orc. At a heavy pace, they fled.

Weebee waited until one of the younger orcs came into reach and forced the maple to thrust a buried root out of the soil. It quickly became a wooden tentacle with wild agility. She stabbed at the orc, hoping to throw it off guard to strangle it, but it took as swipe at the tendril, missing. The two of them exchanged stabs, whips, and misses while the larger man took on the other.

[DoctorRed]

The man frowned at her disappearance, having turned to leave. He wasn't like to enjoy being attacked by any further orcs, but it was less out of fear than the need to move on. He was in the middle of something and needed to return to his task. But he found druids more agreeable when you fought for them, at least in his experience. He stood there and glanced around, wondering where she could have gone. The poor naked and broken thing was vanished and not following him, though he'd expected her to come along. He shrugged at that. Centuars, who knows? They were pretty skittish to begin with on their own and it wasn't often they took to humans, so it was of little consequence at the time.

He'd stepped from the clearing when the pair of orcs laid eyes upon him. A thought crossed his mind that they were the last two and wondered to himself that maybe he ought to have just strode into the camp as it it pleased him and crushed whoever got in his way. Oh well, it had been easier this way, fighting them one at a time, then crushing the pair at the end. Or it will be. Bastard sword in hand, he turned to fight, his face a snarl in the firelight from the smoldering tents not far from them. When they charged with axe and club, he parried the axe and stepped aside from the club. A shove had the shorter creature sprawling and roaring up at him, but a jab from his blade sank his screams in a gurgling death. He turned and leered at his final opponent, who looked to have given up the club for a different weapon.

He'd snatched up a bow and turned it on him, his fingers struggling  to notch an arrow and loose it at him.  Bran turned upon him with a fury he'd forgotten for a while, a battle roar gurgling up as he charged the creature who'd put him in his sights. He felt as though the arrow slid past him as he cut down the creature, whose hands had risen to protect him, sure to slash them off in his fury. When the scattered parts stopped trembling he reached down, and his palm found the arrow lodged in his side. He grunted at the sight of it and wrapped his gloved hand around it, giving it a jerk and tearing up the flesh beneath as the arrowhead was dislocated from his muscle and flesh.

He staggered a bit at the sudden pain and flung the arrow aside as blood pushed down over his leathers and trousers. He bit back and fury as he turned to see if they were gone.  The last one he could see seemed to be doing battle with a druid of some sort, the tree making him work hard for a kill that he couldn't see. He grunted at the sight of it and grinned to himself. Hopefully he'd come upon one, as he needed someone to bind the wound. He stalked away, moving from the camp in slow steps. Carefully here, he didn't want to find a raider with a dagger in his back so he warily made his way to the edge of the camp, making his way out of it. No more seemed to be approaching him from the firey camp as he move away, sheathing his longsword clumsily and staunching the wound with his palm for now.

[DRAMA]

Weebee could see the large man dispatch the orc she wasn't slapping around. She also could smell blood that didn't belong to the orcs. He must have been hit. Mentally, she frowned. It was bad enough she had suffered at there hands, but here her savior took a hit. A little angered by this, she focused her magic to strengthen the maple root.

She balled the ends up like a blunt mace, the commenced with the beat down. Smashing the root ball into the orc's stomach, doubling over, now winded. With him bent over, she walloped the root ball into the beast's spine. The nauseating thwump pushed the bestial fiend to the ground, gasping for breath. With sudden finality, Weebee plunged the root ball into and through the skull of the orc, leaving the corpse to twitch in the fire light.

With these two orcs gone, Weebee knew that this wasn't the last of them. She knew there were more, but she couldn't immediately sense them. She would have to commune with the trees at dawn to see where they had fled, but more pressing matters entered her mind as the smell of the man's blood rushed her nose once more.

Emerging from the tree, she stepped gingerly out onto her cloven hooves, enjoying the smell of maple sap as she exited. Raising her equine ears, she tried to listen out for the man, but she could detect nothing. A few short prancing leaps about the camp site, she peered into the dark forest. Her kind had limited ability to see in the dark, but the moon wasn't out and the fire light was more of a hindrance to her delicate low light vision.

After a few hesitant moments, she decided to call out to the stranger. Warily, she spoke hopefully loud enough to be heard.

"Hello? Stranger? Do you need help? I can aid you if you need it. I won't stay here long..." she offered out to the stranger in the darkness.

[DoctorRed]

Bran Hillfire had fallen against a tree, his blood smeared against the bark. His rage had compelled him to tear out the arrow, but it was a foolish idea. Every part of him was cursing the flare of temper he'd had, a beasts' instinct. He sagged against the wood, breathing heavily as he tried to keep his palm against the slickening fabric, growling a few words to himself as he staggered. He hadn't gotten far when he saw the creature he'd rescued, looking for him, he assumed. He watched her approach, the silhouette against the fire illuminating her enough that he could discern where she was. 

As her voice rang out, he stiffened, reaching for a dagger. The orcs had her bound and raped, but that didn't make her less dangerous. He wondered for a moment what the reason for her approach could be, but he let her get closer before responding to her, his voice rough, the effort strained a bit. He mentally cursed his own foolish behavior.

"Wait. " he called out, gripping a low-hanging branch and dragging himself to lurch on his feet. He took a step towards her, still holding his side. "I'm sorry, I've been shot. I can't... I can't go far without loosing blood." he told her. He wasn't sure if he should have a dagger in his hand or if he should be holding out his palm. "Are you... Dangerous?" he asked, trying to set his feet and get ready if she charged him or attacked. He was worried about her nature. She sounded charming enough, but something about her made him a bit nervous. The night was full of terrors, and many of them wore the face of innocence.

He bit the words a bit as he spoke, both in pain and shame as he said them. "Help me," he begged, sagging a bit against the bloodied bark.

[DRAMA]

The proximity of his voice startled her. She had expected he'd be farther than this, but it dawned on her that maybe his wounds were worse than what she had assumed. Weebee listened to him speak before stepping closer.

"I'm only dangerous if you draw your blade against me, stranger." Weebee spoke softly as she came to face him. His shoulder was a mess and the blood smeared on the maple holding him upright. She approached and knelt before him, trying to get a better view of the wound. "I'm afraid you're going to need to remove your upper garments... you don't feel like an enemy of the forest, so magical healing shouldn't fail... unless you're of demon kin." she said with slightly squinted eyes.

Weebee offered a smile. "Oh I'm toying around. I know you're not." she said trying to lift the mood. Waiting for him to remove the armor and shirt, she laid upon the ground near him. Picking up a twig, she squeezed it, forming a ball of light at the end. As she held it longer, the bright it got. The dim golden glow pulsed much like a heart beat, illuminating the immediate area around them. Now she could see all the details of his face. He sure was a large man.

[DoctorRed]

He felt satisfied that even in the shadows, bleeding out, he was still a terror in the darkness, but hte satisfaction was of little condolence to him when he felt himself bleeding still. He grinned at her rogueishly in the shadows as he watched her.

"I only bear my blades on the ones who bear them at me. That, and evil. It seems to me you have no... blades," he murmured, his breathing heavy as he watched her in the shadows. Truth told, his nightvision was better than average, but still a lot of what he could see and could not see were left up to his hearing and touch to fill in. When she knelt before him, he tried to still his breathing to no avail, letting his breath come in huffs as he listened, nodding.

"Demon...kin?" he asked, before grinning a little.  Pausing as he unclasped his cloak and held it out to her, before tugging at the buckles and straps that held his weapons in place. The bastard sword he kept close, but the rest fell away, followed by his armor, tunic and the other things. He was left naked from the waist up, his body scarred and bruised. He was a large man, with a thick patch of light hair on his chest, dyed red from the smeared blood. He fell to his knees before her, dizzied as he breathed softly, his eyes focused on her. He was large, but the arrow had torn up a lot of him, ripping away and making him bleed much more than it might may if he'd punched it through instead.

In the light, he focused on her better than he had at camp, his eyes rolling along her body, though he noted her very... female form and averted his eyes a bit. He flushed a little, on his knees as he moved his eyes to rest on  her feet, his still-gloved hand moving to the wound. "I'm only a man... but you..."

[DRAMA]

She watched him as he removed his garments, she noted the the wear and tear upon his body. The stories of struggle, pain, and victory were etched in his flesh. She was very thankful that she hadn't lived that hard of a life. His garments rested on the ground before she entered his personal space.

Placing the glowing twig in her feathered hair, she interlocked her fingers and placed the ball of fingers over the gaping arrow wound. She nodded at him and pressed into the wound. Weebee knew it hurt like hell, but moments later, he would feel the pain subside. A warm electrical feeling flooded his torn shoulder and radiated out from her balled hands. The sensation of maggots wriggling around in flesh became more and more intense. Only a few moments later, she pulled her bloodied fists from his shoulder.

Grabbing the twig from her hair, she held it close to the wound. The wound was no longer bleeding, but it wasn't flawless skin either. The wound was closed, but raw pink skin remained with traces of blood visible as blood blisters. The sensation of crawling bugs lingered for a few seconds before being replaced with a nagging ache. Satisfied with her work, she sat back to give him a moment to test his flesh.

"I could do more, but I wouldn't remain able. You've already saved my hide once, I don't expect such luck to go my way twice." Weebe said with a faint smile before arranging her legs more comfortably. For a moment, she was quite, but then explain herself. "Demon kin. Kin of demons. Enemies of nature. Since you haven't tried to kill me on sight, I know you're not of them. Demons can't resist attacking fey. And as for myself, I'll state that I'm not a typical fey. My mother had an odd taste in lovers that only fey seem to... reproduce bizarre amalgams of everything. In short, mother is a nymph and my father... a hippogriff." she concluded almost embarrassed, but felt the need to define her appearance to him. Most mortals liked definitions.

[DoctorRed]

He saw her eying her as he stripped down and shifted a bit, uncomfortably but made no mention of it. With her healing him, he wasn't about to make a remark that was like to get him left behind to bleed here. He doubted any orcs remained, but he wasn't particularly interested in being found in this condition. Watching her, he shifted a bit and gasped, his palm curling in the soft earthen heap of grass and leaves at his side, clutching at it in agony as she shoved fingers into the open wound.

His mouth opened wide for a moment in pain before his teeth snapped back together with an audible click and he ground his teeth for a few moments, a dark snarl on his face as she healed him, the maggots making his eyes roll a bit, as though he were still in battle, searching for the next opponent, though finally his eyes rested upon her, his palms still clutching at the earthen floor beneath him. When she drew back, he let his teeth unclench slowly, his mighty chest heaving slightly as he enjoyed the dull ache where her agonizing healing had once been. When she explained himself, he waved a bloodied hand feebly, a wry grin on his lips.

"I understand. I thank you for your help," he said to her, his eyes on hers as he spoke. He gave himself a few moments before speaking. "It was nothing. I'm only glad you weren't a monster in disguise, waiting to take me unawares when we left," he said to her, shifting a bit to lean back against the cool bark. After a moment or two, he reached down and snatched up his cloak, the tattered crimson cloth swirling it up over her head and laying it on her shoulders. Her nakedness was... distracting, to say the least, and he wasn't sure how long before he was able to make japes about such things, but the discomfort he felt now was genuine. He averted his eyes a bit.

"They fey are mysterious," he admitted, looking at her. He supposed her definitions soothed him a bit. Man was a foolish creature and often seeking to label and identify things, but he supposed it was a functioning system to him. The books he carried were all patchwork tomes and volumes of different types of creatures he might have found. Most of it was absolute rubbish and silly mentionings of creatures he wasn't like to come across, but he he supposed it was better to have too much than too little. "Are you also a druid?" he asked, gesturing to the mysterious light she held, his free hand moving to pick at the pink flesh she'd healed for him. He supposed it might seem a bit ungrateful, but he couldn't help it. He was only human and though he'd been taken care of before, but it was never easy to deal with, not for him.

[DRAMA]

Weebee watched him mess with the freshly healed wound and grimaced slightly. Shrugging, she grinned a little.

"Yes, I am a druid. My mother didn't have the wits to raise a child like myself, so she did the next best thing. Abandon me with the elder druids. They are kind folk and knowledgeable far beyond what I'm able to know." she said placing the pulsing twig back in her hair. By this time, she had become aware of her nudity, but being a fey, it was the most natural thing to her. It was after a few avoiding glances from the large man before she became fully aware.

Excusing herself for a moment, she scavenged through the unburnt debris of the orc camp. After a few moments of searching, she procured a bit of tattered canvas. Apparently, the filth of the tent fabric didn't allow the flames to completely annihilate its entirety. Taking an arrow from the dead orc and making a few slits in the fabric, she wrapped her chest to cover her nakedness. She didn't feel particularly comfortable, but she knew the man wouldn't be so put off from the sight of her breasts.

"I apologize about all that..." Weebee stated as she joined his company once more. Knowing his injury could be worsened by any sudden physical exertion, she pointed in a south westerly direction. "I don't have the knowledge to mend your flesh, but my elders do. If you wish, we can pay them a visit and get you all taken care of. Your choice, but know, Keldern is going to die by my hands. So make up your mind, mortal." she concluded with a twinge of wrath.

[DoctorRed]

Hillfire listened to what she said and leaned against the tree, sometime still reaching up and itching at the wound where it had been closed as he watched her. He grinned a bit, shrugging his shoulders, and wincing at the soreness there. He laughed it off, looking at her now taht she'd clothed herself. The depraved thoughts were dwindling, the reminder that he hadn't been with a woman in so long now banished from sight.

"Fine like this," he told her with a wave to the pink flesh, shaking his head. "I know that they would heal me well enough, but I hate to waste any of their time when this will do just as well. I thank you for your help," he added, his eyes on hers as he tried not to look her over. The wonder of her attracted him as much as her female form. He supposed that was a bit of fey in her, evoking such thoughts and he can't say it wasn't welcome.  Her amalgam appearance was enthralling to him. He wondered much about what she was, what that meant for her. Crossbreeds weren't exactly mythic or bizarre to those who knew the darkness, but the ones that didn't become terrors from it were a delicacy his eyes rarely feasted upon.  He chose not to comment on her heraldry. He wasn't one to talk, bastardized by his own house. He wondered idly what it was like, to consider the people he knew, as the same where the creatures out in the night all considered one another different 'peoples'. He'd heard tales, and thought on the matter, but...

When she returned, he had stopped fussing and pulled on the tunic and leathers, returning his cloak to his shoulders and clasping it back on, replacing the steel fangs he carried at his hips and back to their rightful place, his sword laying across his knee as he listened to her. approach in the shadows. He looked up at her and had to smirk at the clothing she'd roughly hewn out. He supposed he could have offered her more, but he wasn't much for weavig branches or tanning hides like some, so it would have been an empty offer.

"Who is Keldern?" he asked, frowning and thinking on it. "Was there an orc in the party back there that I missed? None approached in sol ong and you've been to the camp and back. Any orc with the sense not to rush in to die would be on his way back home by now, not waiting around for me to cut him down like the others," he told her. "I don't think it wise to seek him out if that's the case. You've been abused and you're angry for it, I know, but would your risk it again just to make an end of it? It won't heal your wounds. It won't bring your maidenhood back. It can't make you forget." he told her, his eyes distant in the shadows cast by her glowing twig. He was silent a while before he spoke.

"I'm not one to range with..." he dug around for the right words, the inoffensive ones that wouldn't wound her pride." ... others, but if you were so determined as to ignore my words, as a man I cannot let you go alone. I will go with you, but in return I need you to promise me payment," he told her, his voice stern as he locked his eyes onto hers.

[DRAMA]

The conversation was welcome to her, however, she didn't wish to hear everything he had to say. Some of what the man said was very much true, but mortals weren't known for understanding a fey's wrath. The orc had taken more from her than what she could put in words. Never had she known the anguish that his men caused and especially, he allowed. The bestial blood in her boiled fueled by the erratic emotions passed from her mother.

"Yes, at least Keldern is alive. The orcs that were dispatched were only under his orders. They were a rookie group who got lucky. Ambushed me while I was praying, filthy pig-blooding demon kin." she spat on the ground. Her feathered hair stood on end a little, making her look like a ruffled bird. One of her rear hooves pawed the earth a little as she paced touch. "Mortal, don't you forget so easily the wound in your shoulder. And you surly witnessed the tree roots removing the life from one of the beasts. I'm not incapable of protecting myself unless my hands are bound." she said while flustered in an attempt to defend her ego.

Weebee turned from him, walking back towards the camp. Pacing around the fire, she kicked at the coals. The human expected some sort of payment for his company. He'd already proven his combat prowess and was a large human at that. She knew he would be useful, but she didn't really have possessions or currency.

"I don't know what you expect me to pay you with. I can promise the spoils of the orcs, once they're removed. Other than that, I have nothing..." she said waving her hands at her body, but almost instantly granting herself an idea. "... unless you have a carnal desire for the flesh of fey, then that is about all I have to offer. As a young druid, I'm not permitted to have a hut yet nor am I allowed to own. All I have is my knowledge and my body. And rarely do humans crave knowledge of the forest." she concluded.

Maybe he would be interested in such and offer, but Weebee wasn't thrilled about this bargain. At least offering herself in this manner was consensual, she told herself to accept this arrangement. Being part nymph, Weebee knew she would enjoy the sexual turmoil the human male would endure.

[DoctorRed]

He knew what he said wouldn't be what anyone wanted to hear, but it wasn't the first time he'd come upon a woman alone int he woods or  in a similarly dire situation. He sat patiently as he watched her.  A sigh escaped his lips as he herd that news and nodded. The story she told wasn't one unknown to him, nor was it the first he'd ever chanced into.

"If they did that to you with just a handful, what hope can you have if Keldern reaches his villiage before you can slay him?" he countered, his face darkening as she mentioned his own wound. "I haven't forgotten, but the power of sorcery and druidism are not infallible. If he were to burn the tree with you in it, would you not burn as well? Or perhaps I am a stranger to druids and wizards a like," he said, his voice stern and edging on coolness as he rose slowly, rising to his feet on unsturdy legs at first before he willed himself to stand upright and forcefully before his eyes sought her and found her returning from the camp.  

It was a few days ago the villagers south of the forest had paid him in gold to take the seeds from the harvest to the druids in the forest. He'd been loathe to sleep there, and when he'd stayed, they insisted that they take payment and the seeds, despite his wishes not to be a part of their ritual, wether it made sense to him or not. He was half a mind to send it with her, and consider the deed done. The gold was given, not earned, but he had made good on his part of at least coming to the forest north of them and sought them out. He was between things now, and he flushed when she spoke of him having her body as payment, his eyes rolling over her for only a moment before he glanced away, as though seeking Keldern in the darkness, rather than lecherously leer over her body.

"That's... That's not something I would ask for you to pay me with. It'd be uncouth as a man to ask that of you," he added, glancing back to her face, resolving to look only to her face and eyes. Not that they were unappealing to look upon, only that he was a man, with a mans weakness, and in the night so full of terror, weakness was a sword in the back. "Whether or not you know this, my people don't... Well, they do, but..." he ground his teeth, floundering for the words a few moments. "I will help you on your quest to slay this Keldern, but only if you will take me to the Druids afterwords. I have business with them, but a few days time won't harm anything," he said to her, his eyes locked on hers. "But if Keldern makes it to his village and you ask me to help you slay the whole of them, we'll be revisiting the matter, and your payment will be very steep," he reminded her, his face darkening. He was loathe to fight when he didn't have to, but the slaying of a few orcs were payment enough to curry favor to druids, in his eyes. Would so many more win him more favor? He wondered at that. But on top of those fancies, he had other, more pressing wonders before him.

He pondered the implications, and his hand itched,a  burning desire to draw out his book and learn more of her. He wondered what fey were like. What were Hippogriffs? Were they in his book? Would she know to read and catch him researching her, as they sat? He pondered that and decided he could wait. It was agitating, him a man and so out of place, and her a woman, yet more at home here than beyond stone walls. He pushed the thoughts of the book aside.

"Are those terms acceptable to you?"

[DRAMA]

Weebee saw him dancing in his clothes. She knew she hit something in him. Good... she listened to him and nodded, placating him with little response. He was lost in a thought for just a split second as was evident by the micro expressions he couldn't hid. She narrowed her eyes and nodded.

"I accept these terms, however, I'm curious what business you have with the druids. Explain yourself as we may very well have to consult them before we tear out Keldern's throat. You've made a good point and perhaps the elders can advise me." she mentioned. Her thinking was to clear the man's mind of what ever business he had with the druids so he could focus on the hunt. On the other hand, she also needed to see about acquiring some sort of aid for this journey.

"Come, explain yourself as we move. The longer we wait, the sooner the pig makes his way home." she said with a little venom. She pranced around a bit to flex her muscles and then lept into the brush. "Speak up if I move too quickly!" she laughed as she darted into the night.

[DoctorRed]

The exiled knight made a face at her response and grinned at her curiousity as he spoke, moving to follow along behind her. "The villiage to the south sent me with their harvest seeds, for some blessing." he explained, patting the sack on his hip as he walked, moving into a long stride to keep pace with her, then a brisk jog, his long legs moving deftly along the brush. "The way I'm told, it's nothing special, only that the woods are a fearsome place to them. A ranger was a good coincidence, so I agreed to handle it," he said as they moved, keeping behind her and making a face at her jape. He was sure she could far outstrip him in speed, but he'd prove to be a more formidable power as far as distance went than she might expect. He dressed and acted knightly at times, but his body was made of stronger stuff than most of the Metal Men the orcs and other terrors were used to.

"I am Richard, formerly of HIllfire." he asked, his pace taking him near her as they moved, keeping an eye on her in the shadows." What is your name, maid?"

[DRAMA]

So that's what brought the man into the forest. This made sense. The village he spoke of was something the druids had arranged oh so long ago. She had heard the tales growing up and knew that this time of year, they would be making the ceremonial trek to see the druids. At least the man had a purpose for being here, outside of saving her white hide.

"Weebee, like 'we be of the forest', but with more letters." she said bounding in zigzag patterns through the brush. As she lept and bounced, she held her hands out to caress the leaves of bushes and trees. The sound of night life was a gentle melody to her and the sensation of the greenery on her fingertips was a familiar pleasure.

Slowing her gate, she eventually paused so the human could rest and catch his breath, if need be. Searching the boughs of the trees near by, searching. It wasn't long before she found what she was after; the bounty of fruit from some older fig trees. Plucking several from the primitive branches, she bounced back toward the human, offering some to him.

"Best time of year for the figs. Almost over ripe and perfectly juicy..." she said with a grin and bit into one. The sweet pink purple flesh was sweet and heady. The fruit had a wonderful smell and danced across the palette. A few more weeks and they'd be on the verge of rotten, far too sweet to eat. Enjoying the treat, she made sure this Richard had several to feast upon.

[DoctorRed]

"Weebee," he repeated, following behind her a he ran, keeping a good pace but he knew she would leave him behind a bit, with those more adept legs for running along, he followed her melody, the rustling leaves and branches through the shadows and darkness, his long legs taking strides at his own pace. The worst case scenario would show her leaving him too far behind to find her, and then all he would need to do was return to the orcish camp and then go to the druids himself. That was less favorable. Even as a ranger, his heart went out to her, just a little bit. Seeing her tied up had irked him more than he realized, as he pondered the madness of leading a ranging into what may well be an orcish stronghold, rather than letting it be. He supposed it was pity, but a voice in him cried for justice, twice as loud.

He found her stopped at a tree and peered at her curiously as she reached in. In truth he half expected some new magic to be revealed, some druidic trickery to show it's head as he watched her, but instead she drew down a much more welcome gift of an armload of figs. He smiled gratefully and took one, biting into it and marveling at the taste. It wasn't often he found figs at a good ripeness, more often he found them too young to be too delicious but these... Perhaps one day, when he was too old to fight anymore he would have to live in the village and eat figs in the evening as the sun set. But not now. He wiped the juice from his chin and mouth with the back of his glove and drew deep from his skin of water. Once, many years ago it had kept his wine, but a drunk ranger was no more than a vagrant. And terrors preyed upon the vagrants drunk and sober alike.

He held out the skin to her, with half a grin. "They're... incredible," he admitted, accepting a second when he'd devoured the first with his marveling pleasure, his eyes on her as they stood, and suddenly the whole scene of them amused him. He grinned a bit more and laughed softly, chuckling as he shook his head.

[DRAMA]

Weebee smiled at this Richard. She was glad to see him enjoy the fruits. They were divine, in a way. Absolutely delicious and nearly perfect. The fey split the few she had left in her hands with the human and welcomed the water. The skin itself had a foreign odor, not entirely unpleasant. Returning the water skin to the human, she nibbled her remaining figs.

"Not much farther..." she said with a playful fey grin before bouncing back off into the brush. The woodland spirit was playful and always enjoyed a little fun. This time, instead of keeping it at a pace the human could keep, she bounded ahead, losing him for a moment. Bounding back into view, she lured him this way and that, and even into a crude circle before totally disappearing from sight.

Slipping into a tree, she watched him pass by. Giggling, she reached out and tugged his cloak with a lower tree branch before exiting the tree's opposite side. Bounding around him for a few moments, she joined him back at his side.

"You're good fun. I like that." she said with a big grin. Again, she lead the way, this time in earnest.

[DoctorRed]

He was grateful for the fruit, and enjoying their small meal. He supposed it was strange to sit and enjoy the water and figs with her, but it just didn't seem to mater to him. He was finding pleasure in the darkness that was normally so full of horror and terrors. He tucked away the waterskin and stood, brushing himself off a bit as he did so, moving to keep after her, though he recognized her speed before too long, and kept his own pace, changing only when he caught a glimpse of her, not letting her taunts get the better of him too much.

He frowned as she led him a long, the crude circle not going unnoticed. He vowed silently to pay her back tenfold, but it was a half-hearted thing in his mind. He couldn't honestly say he was like to truly hold it against her. He understood her need for freedom, and had to respect her high spirits. Even after what had happened, she was still able to smile and laugh and play. He wondered a bit when the last time he 'played' at anything was and shuttered at the thought, jarred by the branch that snatched at his cloak. He stopped and laughed aloud, grinning down at her.

"You're pretty good fun too, Weebee. I'm glad to have been your playmate, if only for a moment," he told her, moving along with her, though he gave her a good swat to the flank with his gloved hand, moving along with her, his eyes forward again.