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[TOL] I Cannot Bear It Any Longer

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Ulvar on | Personagens dnd, Animais místicos e Arte fantasia

 

The sun beats down upon the earth in oppressive, stifling heat. Pervarus does not seem to be bothered by it at all despite his long hair and the wild mass of flowers on his head, swaying ever so slightly as if dancing to a summer breeze. The staff in his hand thumps against the ground as he walks forward, keeping time to an unspoken rhythm. 

When the words come, they are faintly inquisitive. "So, I hear from Missy Gwen that yer somewhat of a fighter, hey?" He smiles at his companion, eyes scanning the length of the other man's form in consideration. "Well, not in the exact words, but it counts."

A pause. "What weapons do ye use? I don't see anything else beside yer trusty backpack and yer tree branch and the strength in yer hands."

And yes, those do appear to be strong, weathered hands. Gwen had made mention of the boy possibly hailing from the mountains; anyone living in such harsh, unpredictable environments would have to have been carved from the hardiest of rocks and stone. 

"Pardon my question, of course, if it is too forward."

 

@Milke

 

 

 

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@vielle

Phew!

As the sun beams down on the pair, Owen is left high and dry, considerably less resilient against the lurid bearings of the summer stanch. The boyish mountaineer was dressed for the cold, harsh environment of his mountain home, not the pleasant warmth he shared with Pervarus here. Despite all his faculties the boy feels like he'll melt if he stays out in the heat too long! Wiping the sweat from his brow with a be-gloved hand, the young man manages a meek smile for his hunting partner. "I usually use a sword, fella. However, I like to avoid killin' whenever I can." Softly, Owen swings his branch hither and tither. "If we can beat some sense into this bear and run 'em off, I'll be happy."

The lad kneels down and doffs the bag from his pack, hands plunging and fishing through the clutter and cluster as he searches for something in particular. "Oul Gwen wasn't pulling your leg or nothin' though! I am a fighter of sorts. Name's Owen Sloan; do you happen to know what a rune is? Aha!" Whatever he was looking for, Owen seems to have found it!

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Owen holds up a pointed, ovular stone, bearing the image of a softly glowing blue arrow on its flattest side. The stone gently hums with an enigmatic and arcane energy, as the hardy lad holds it up and above him in one of his rugged hands! The entire time he beams just as brightly as his ostensibly treasured rock; "Don't worry, I ask quite a few questions meself! So I don't mind answering some from time-to-time."

Standing tall, the strapping young man points the end of the stone highlighted by the runic arrow towards the branch after he's returned his pack to his back. "This...is the weapon I use the most--my trusty inscribing stone! We'll trounce that bear no problem so long as I've got this beauty. Though these hands got plenty strength in 'em too!" He gives a hearty laugh, slinging his stick over his shoulder. "So don't count me out if I wanted to wrestle this beastie with my bare hands! No pun intended~"

Suddenly feeling the heat beat down on his brow again, Owen tugs on the collar of his burlap shirt beneath his heavy overcoat. "We should get a move on; otherwise I'm gonna faint out here in this heat, before we even get to the bear!"

Edited by Milke

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Ulvar on | Personagens dnd, Animais místicos e Arte fantasia

 

"If we can beat some sense into this bear and run 'em off, I'll be happy." 

A loud, hearty chuckle spills out of Pervarus' mouth, utterly amused by the mental image his companion has provided. "Surely, if we may do so, then I'd be all the more glad for it." If only such adventures would run so smoothly, so easily, he thinks, then the world would be altogether a safer place.

Out comes the rune from Owen's pack, and the tall man peers at it with a look of interest. "Ah, yes, I do know of runes from the tomes of my people, but I have never seen one such as this." The other man begins explaining that it is his inscribing stone, whatever that may mean, and Pervarus hmmhs and ahhs as he studies the rock in Owen's grasp.

It glows the faintest blue: quite a fetching color. His crystal staff glows an entirely different color, however.

"Now, I am entirely curious of this here's yer stone," he tells Owen, humming as he continues to move, albeit somewhat more swiftly after the man's proclamation of perhaps fainting under the heat. "Ye must tell me more about it before we ever encounter the bear. Vaddock tells me the site where it is frequently spotted is but a few more minutes from here." He points somewhere on the horizon, further along the path where the treeline begins to thicken. "We have some more time yet, hey?"

 

@Milke

 

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@vielle

A permissible smile graces Owen's lips at his companion's curiosity; he holds the rune-scarred stone up for Pervarus' viewing pleasure as they both walk along. With their destination only a short ways away, the lad hastily begins to explain his abilities as best he can. A swift swing sees the branch tucked beneath his arm; he pinches it there so he can free up both of his hands for the coming explanation. Owen points his index and middle finger towards the glowing blue rune emblazaned upon the hand-sized stone.

"I'm a Rune Knight...or well a Rune Knight in training at the very least. Me grandfella was teaching me all the ins and outs of the practice; it's a secret and sacred art held in high regard among our people, so you won't see nothin' like it in flatlands and valleys." He taps his fingers against the stone, a small, crackling current of arcane energy arcing between its surface and his fingertips. "An inscribing stone bears the mark of creation. With it I can draw any rune I like..." As an example, Owen carefully scribes a sequence of runes down the front of his armor.

The line of runes marking his chest softly ebbs and glows, until it disperses on the thick, leather surface of the lad's chest piece. A hardened layer of frost forms in a flash, adorning Owen's overcoat in thick icy sheets as steam rolls off the magically formed armaments.  "...and in turn I can give me gear a bit of a boon! That's a pretty handy trick. innit?"

As their boots tread on against the beaten path, softly thudding across the loose dust and soil, the conjured cluster of ice begins to wane and fade underneath the sweltering summer heat. At the very least it seemed to be keeping Owen nice and cool. He sighs; "It ain't an easy path to walk but...grandfather said it's the one that'll never lead me astray. As of right now I've only managed to master the simple sequences, hopefully if I survive the run in with this bear here I'll be able to continue learning."

He shakes his head and removes the stick from underneath his arm, once again holding it in his left hand before bringing that inscribing stone the branch now. "What about you? That staff you got there has a pretty stone at its head; you a mage of sorts fella?"

Edited by Milke

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Ulvar on | Personagens dnd, Animais místicos e Arte fantasia

 

Pervarus listens with rapt attention as Owen explains the characteristics of his inscribing stone, watching the etched symbol on his companion's chest bloom into icy trails of frost on his armor, an invisible elemental artist sketching out a sheen of ivory on his person. "That is quite a handy trick indeed, and one that would serve you well should we ever beat some sense into the bear, as you say," he chuckles lowly.

As a student of magic himself, the heavy fist of interest in learning something new about the arcana holds a steady grasp on his soul, and perhaps, he imagines, it would be the same for Owen. The only proper course is to reciprocate.

"Ye may call me a mage, if ye so wish," he tells the young man with a teasing smile, "though we are known as druids among my people." He lifts his staff, pointing it to the heavens and murmuring foreign syllables under his breath. The crystal shard begins to glow a faint purple, and by Pervarus' feet sprout a few tiny daisies. "I do not have much tricks such as yers up my sleeve, but nature may consider me their friend," he explains proudly, before they continue moving onward.

Within a few more moments, the treeline begins to curve forward into the path, narrowing it down and darkening the road in dappled-tree shadows. The dusty path tapers off into faint patches of green, grass crumpling under their feet. They emerge into a clearing, the remnants of what appears to be a recently-made campsite greeting them. The branches on the campfire still smolder a deep orange, and there are torn pieces of cloth throughout the grounds, as if something had ravaged them.

Pervarus considers the area before nodding to himself. "Let us look for clues on what may have occurred here. Perhaps footprints, or ye heavy tufts of bear fur."

 

@Milke

Spoiler

Feel free to push the story forward by revealing some "clues" or discovering some findings that'll lead us to the bear! 😁

 

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Owen's brow quirks and dances above his eyes inquisitively as the ever-curious young man watches, listening to arcane utterances with intense focus. His sharp and uncommonly attuned senses easily discern the very hum and thrum of magic amidst the unknowable words Pervarus speaks, his expression even seeming to light up with a smile as he watches the flowers sprout by his companion's feet. The magic of nature and life engendered with such a simple gesture; it's enough to charm the lad. "A druid, eh? I guess that makes yeh a bang on outdoorsman, maybe I don't even need ta strike this poor beastie! Maybe yeh can talk 'em down." He returns Pervarus' teasing with a wink of his own.

Upon their emergence through the narrow gap of the tree line and into a proper clearing, Owen's attentive gaze is allowed to wander the camprounds. He takes in the ramshackle and makeshift nature of the scene, nodding to Pervarus with a small frown as he notices the torn and tattered cloth strewn about. "By the gods...I hope nobody was cut-up 'ere!" After a short spell of scanning the area, the boy's attention is grabbed by a peculiar sight. 

Quickly, Owen runs up and skids to his knees in the grass, before fussily fawning over ostensible indentations in the ground. A nervous lump forms in his throat, a little sweat dotting his brow naught for affliction by heat, but fright. "Oi! Check these out. Drag marks." He calls out his findings to Pervarus, brushing aside the shredded fabric to better uncover the trail. 

Looking towards the direction it leads, Owen traces the length of the trail with the end of his branch. "Recent, not too deep too. I don't see any blood so...if 'twas a person the thing drug off at least they ain't injured." The young warrior suddenly stands tall--he dosen't look so laid back or lethargic from the heat anymore. Fierce determination colors his countenance, brow furrowed and glare deathly serious. 

"...but we don't know how long they have. We should hurry." His hands ball into tight and quivering fists, the few visible knuckles turning a little pale as their circulation falters. Owen looks over his shoulder right at Pervarus; the lad doesn't say anything further, should the druid meet his gaze that would tell him everything he needed to know.

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Ulvar on | Personagens dnd, Animais místicos e Arte fantasia

 

The tall man moves about the camp grounds with liquid steps, taking the other side of the clearing opposite the area that Owen chooses to search. He regards the ripped pieces of cloth and twigs strewn about with a frown; there might've been people here, just recently, and whatever had occurred that the previous occupants would leave their belongings in such a mess as this might not be very benign nor natural at all.

"Oi! Check these out. Drag marks." 

Pervarus glances over to his companion, turns on his heel to approach Owen as he shows him the trail he had discovered. The image that is painted with the young man's theory makes more and more sense with every passing moment, his explanations pointing to the possibility of the demon bear potentially being close by.

When he stands back up and turns his gaze up, Pervarus is pleasantly surprised to see a fire burning in his companion's eyes. Such courage, such determination. That is always something good to see on another person's countenance.

"Yes, yes, we must hurry," he agrees, mumbling a quick incantation under his breath—with a simple spell, their footsteps might quicken as the earth bends to the will of their footfalls. "Let us follow the trail and see where it leads. Be ready with yer stone, and I with my staff. If it is the bear, it might not be very friendly."

 

@Milke

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@vielle

With fleet of foot, Owen takes off without even a moment's hesitation. His focus is narrowed and expression furrowed, as the soil underneath his boots propels him along. "Aye! 'Tis probably not keen on making kind, this bear! I'll teach the brute some manners!" The lad looks over his shoulder to give Pervarus an affirmative nod as they dart down the trail left by the monstrous bear.

The brave and brash boy dashes right into the tree line with his hunting partner in tow, dodging, ducking and weaving around slender trunks and hanging branches. His steps thump furiously, crunching and snapping leaves and twigs underfoot as he thunders across the forest path.

Owen takes it upon himself to point out to Pervarus, the large claw marks nicking up some of the thicker oaks and spruce. "A territorial display, no doubt. Look at the size of 'em things! It's gotta be a grizzly or somethin'! A really BIG one!"; his announcement is cut short as the young man comes to a screeching halt. All that noise he'd been making between running through the woods and hollering his head off ceases, and in its place the sounds of a large and frustrated animal can be heard.

Guttural growls quake the earth beneath the intrepid pair, the bear's bellows echoing across the bent and broken stumps of the surrounding woods. A resounding thwack marks the contact of sharpened claws scraping against stone, the sheer power carried in these sounds enough to chill the average man to the bone. While Owen is unsure he thinks he can hear a fearful scream amidst it all.

Once again he doesn't even spare a second thinking his way through his next course of action. No thinking, just doing. Owen's body moves on its own, shunting forwards with powerful strides until he breaks through the brambles with a leap! His legs held up and arms draped over his head before finishing with a tuck and roll! If Pervarus is still in tow, he and Owen both would bear witness to the large shape of a towering brown bear trying in vain to reach something cowering beneath a narrow, craggy rock ledge.

"Hey ugly!" Owen announces their presence to the bear, striking his runestone against the stick he's been carrying. With this single motion he finishes the runic sequence he'd been preparing while they walked. Like a swelling storm, the branch suddenly crackles to life with teeming, arcing electricity!

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Ulvar on | Personagens dnd, Animais místicos e Arte fantasia

 

He is known to be quite a nimble man despite his age and lumbering stature, but even then, it takes a fair bit amount of effort for Pervarus to match Owen's speed. With his spell taking effect on their feet, they make swift time through the forest as they follow the trail of drag marks; he hears the other man shouting his observations at him, but there is no time to give a reply when he's slightly panting with exertion.  

They finally burst into the clearing, grass and twigs flying in the wake of their arrival. And by the gods, but that is a massive monstrosity of a bear.

Owen yells an insult at it, and despite the creature swiveling its great big head towards them, Pervarus has to spare a moment to gaze at the sudden spark of electricity crackling through the branch his companion carries with wonder. He would've taken the time to applaud, but then the bear sniffs the air and locks its beady eyes onto them. 

Time to make use of a spell he'd been learning recently.

"Have this, ye scoundrel bear," Pervarus calls out, his crystal glowing bright as a thickened vine of enlarged thorns weaves itself around his staff. With a few more murmurs, he strikes the air in the bear's direction, and the jagged points spiral out across the clearing.

The hail of thorns connect with the bear's fur, stabbing deep into its skin like knives and causing it to writhe in pain. It shakes its whole body as if trying to stave off the pain, letting out a murderous growl as it launches itself to run full speed at the two men.

"Look out!"

 

@Milke

Spoiler

Let me introduce you to the Dice Rolling Thread! 😊 This nifty thing is just like the D&D dice mechanics, if you're looking to add an element of chance to an action/event. All you need to do is make a post in the thread and it automatically generates rolled results for you! As you can see here, I've used it to see if I can hit the bear. 

1 minute ago, vielle said:

Rolled a 1 (d2), 3 (d3), 4 (d4), 3 (d6), 6 (d10), 5 (d12), 7 (d20), 57 (d100)

d2 to hit the bear (1 - hit, 2 - miss)

You don't need to use it right now if you don't want to, but just wanted to share it in case you wanna make use of it in the future. 👌

 

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@vielle

Owen digs his heels into the ground and raises the supercharged tree branch over his head, seemingly unflinching even as the half-ton mass of fur, claws and muscle barrels towards him and his companion. The young mountaineer is nothing if not bold and with a penchant for dramatics; he seems to simply enjoy the act of heroics, despite the overbearing peril of facing down inexplicable terrors such as this one. "I see 'em!"

With a flick and swipe of his stick, an arc of lightning fires straight into the bear's chest! The shock is enough to shoot pain throughout the hairy, hulking monstrosity, but not enough to kill of course. Even now Owen is adamant to carry out this task with as little bloodshed as possible. 

A shame then that the bear doesn’t quite share that sentiment, the painful jolt upsetting the poor beast more than intimidating it. Owen’s stick has lost its electrical faculties, the magic he’d infused it with spent up after firing that stinging current! The bear stumbles during its charge, giving the lad just barely enough time to dodge, tuck and roll out of the way to the side! 

“Oi! We’re just pissing it off! You got a way to put the fear of gods in ‘em!?” Owen starts frantically scribbling down another sequence of runes down the side of his branch, sweat dotting his brow as he intensely splits his focus between his impromptu weapon and the angry animal.

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Ulvar on | Personagens dnd, Animais místicos e Arte fantasia

 

Owen follows up on his attack with one of his own, a jolt of electrifying current spiraling through the air into the bear's body, but its rage surmounts its pain. It quickens its stride towards them, and Pervarus dives towards the bushes in the other direction his companion had dodged.

"Oi! We’re just pissing it off!"

He's inclined to agree. The bear's hide seems far too thick to be pierced by long-distance potshots as they've been doing so far, and already, it is beginning to shake off the thorns, the lightning that had struck through its body. They'll be going nowhere if the bear continues to move about, and so—

"A way to put the fear of gods in the bear?" A string of chattering non-syllables flows out of Pervarus' mouth, his staff's crystal glowing bright enough to blind. "That'll have to be ye, lad!"

Pervarus turns, and now that the enraged creature is closer to them than ever, he can see the telltale marks of a prior wound—a bright pink scar across its snout, just barely visible amidst the black fur. This is their chance! 

"Owen! There's a scar on its snout! There!" As the words take flight into the air, the spell under his breath finishes; he points his staff towards the bear again, and a mass of twisting, binding vines begin to crawl up and around its limbs, keeping it immobile for the time being. It roars and yells its fury at the sudden obstruction, but the vines hold tight, hold firm. Pervarus grits his teeth, turning his gaze to Owen with a wild look in his eyes.

"Go! Finish it off!"

 

@Milke

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@vielle

"Finish it off!"

Those three words echo in the young man's mind, bringing a sudden lucidity and calm to his actions in the heated midst of Pervarus' inclination. The beating of one's heart could sometimes become the loudest sound, rocketing off from within the chest and hammering directly into the brain. A lurid rush of adrenaline, the harsh pumping off blood, hoarse and haggard breathing. Owen doesn't hesitate, it's now or never!

Owen rockets off the forest floor in a burst of speed, flourishing the branch at his side as he rushes down the raging flurry of fur and muscle! There! The scar on its snout, perhaps a wound from prior territorial disputes? It would certainly follow that such a towering monolith of a monster was no stranger to combat. Taking advantage of the sore point on the bear's countenance, Owen finishes his rune with deftness, dexterity, and haste!

A familiar burst of cold envelops the branch mid-swing, encasing it in a layer of hardened frost before the bitter beatstick swings right into the restrained beast's scar! A resounding THWACK rings out over the trees, the bear once again given pause at the sheer shock of being repeatedly battered in quick succession. Except this time the brute got the message loud and clear, pain proving to be an excellent teaching tool. Owen's blow follows through, the momentum continuing along the arc of his swing and even drawing blood which spatters through the open air!

After this, that bear hits the ground with a dull thud, not dead but gazing up and between the pair with wide eyes and frenetic energy. Although it's normally impossible to tell, perhaps these two wild men an be afforded some brief insight into the beast's state of mind; it's afraid, of them no less! The nature of its struggles against the vines has shifted; now it's doing so in a desparate bid to get itself free and flee for its life! It's breath is raspy and infrequent, guttural roars of panic filling the space above its head as Owen is kicked away!

The hind paw of the bear catches his chest piece and pushes him onto his back, eliciting a meaty grunt from the boy as his back makes contact with soft soil and damp detritus. However, he's in no further danger it would seem, the bear far too concerned with attempting to scramble away rather than continue this bout.

Owen sits up as quick as he can, looking to Pervarus and giving him a small nod, and an even smaller smile. "Methinks he's had 'enough fella, let 'em loose!"

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Ulvar on | Personagens dnd, Animais místicos e Arte fantasia

 

He hurries over across the clearing to check on his companion, having witnessed the bear kicking him straight in the chest. "Are you alright?" He is about to offer to heal any wounds the other man might've incurred, but then he sits up and gives him a reassuring smile.

Let 'em loose. Pervarus tilts his head to the side, gaze calculating as he glances back and forth between the bear and the man on the forest floor. His eyes narrow minutely, an idea sparking in his mind that makes him immovable to Owen's request.

A test? Perhaps. He is not a guardian of these wilds for nothing.

"Ye do not wish to slay it?" Pervarus's face takes on a faintly curious expression, the crystal still glowing brightly as the bindings on the creature do not relent by even an inch. "It is right there, ready to be killed for its fur pelts, and so that it may no longer harm any travelers roaming around these parts." He raises his eyes to the rocks above, the terrified screams of earlier having petered off into quiet whimpers, and then he looks back at Owen. "Whoever is on that ledge up there, they have been terrorized by this creature, and ye will let it go?"

He lets the question hang in the air for a while, and then continues. "I am offering ye a chance to slay it and take the credit, else I will release it as ye wish." The tall man hums, and the vines tighten around the bear's body as if to hold it still on a silver platter for the taking. "Ye wish to let it roam freely once more, with the possibility that the bear may continue its streak of terror moving forward?"

 

@Milke

Edited by vielle

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@vielle

As Owen sits with a slightly pained wince spread across his face, his sanguine and cheery smile turns into a frown at Pervarus' words. Not for any confusion or wavering on part of his stark optimism and gentle nature, but moreso out of distressed befuddlement. The mountaineer is no stranger to hunting, gathering, skinning and tanning animals. However, something about simply killing this beastie doesn't sit well with the lad. 

"It is right there, ready to be killed for its fur pelts...

No. To kill for such petty gain, to take not for necessity but out of pure want or retribution. That's not the way the boy was raised; thusly, Owen shakes his head at Pervarus' inquiry, the mighty hunter fancying himself a merciful sort. "Where I'm from, humankind is an extension of nature, just like the birds of the air and the beasts of the woods." 

The boy starts to sit up despite the discomfort in his chest, a hefty sigh heaving from the very depths of his being. "As generous as the offer is fella, I cannae kill this bear nor would I wanna take credit for takin' its life. The bear is my brother and I his. Just like I'd trust a person to take their lickin' and run, I trust this beastie too. Even if he did knick me somethin' nasty! I believe the bear has purpose for acting out like this, animals ain't exactly malicious." His peppy smile and demeanor returns full force as he looks off the whimpered cries beneath the crag. 

"I'm sure you understand my reasoning better than most. Killing...it can be needless sometimes. So, please let 'em go? If this one ain't learned 'er lesson I'll foot the bill for its damages, come back, then whip 'em into shape myself!" He declares, beaming up at Pervarus with a thumb pointed right into his chest. "There's an old mountainkin proverb; "An eye-for-an-eye leaves the whole world blind", y'see? Maybe it's just my soft heart playin' at me..."

"In any case, there's something important we gotta take care of." Owen brushes himself off, canting his head aside as he notices three claw marks going down and across his armor. Seems his brief encounter was little closer than he'd thought! Nevertheless the optimistic lad shrugs this off and starts heading towards whatever poor soul was hiding away from the bear. He peeks underneath the crag with a warm smile, hand offered forwards into the dark. "Hello? Don't worry, you're safe now."

It appears Owen likes to prioritize helping others. "Are you hurt? I have a friend who might be able to help if you are."

Edited by Milke

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Ulvar on | Personagens dnd, Animais místicos e Arte fantasia

795068fb6c707ed02351f3fc25118b35.jpg

 

Pervarus cannot help the smile that ticks up at the corner of his mouth as the words fall from Owen's mouth, the evidence of a soft heart and a just mind slowly making itself known in the space between them. Why, it's just as he's expected.

"May ye keep your heart pure, lad," he whispers almost to himself, watching the man hasten forward towards the rock ledge. Pervarus waves his staff, and the tendrils of green slowly curl away from the bear's form, bonds loosening and allowing the creature to burst free, running off into the darkened undergrowth of the forest.

"Are you hurt? I have a friend who might be able to help if you are."

There is silence for a moment, and then an elven woman pokes her head out from the darkness, her eyes wild with fear.

"Oh gods," she says, limbs shaking as she ventures out of her hiding spot. "Is—is it gone?" She turns her head this way and that, looking around the clearing as if waiting for the bear to suddenly pounce forward and gobble her up. When nothing comes but silence in the wake of her query, she slowly takes Owen's proffered hand. 

"I'm not—I'm a little bit hurt, but nothing—nothing too serious," she huffs, a trembling smile on her mouth. Her hand uncurls from her arm, showing off a small gash up the length of her skin. Suddenly, she points towards his armor and the scratch marks visible. "Ah, but you're hurt too! Are you okay?" 

 

@Milke

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