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Posted on July 10, 2014 at 09:29:27 PM by BIRCH
Birch found in herself the iron core, that strong, steady spot inside of her where nothing could touch her. It wasn't the place of Feral Madness, a place Birch knew all too well, for that place was full of mindless hate and hunger, but it helped some. Birch grabbed a hold of her emotions, calmly wove them together into calm, and sighed as the grief abated. It would return with full force, of course, in the night and the silence, but Birch could focus on this woman for now, and that was enough to pull herself free. The proud warrior nodded at the girl's question, following her somewhat broken English with ease. English had not been her first language, either; though Fyren tongue was nothing like the girl's from what little Birch had managed to catch, it was enough for Birch to feel a very small connection with her at least.
"Aye," Birch answered in response to the girl's question. Her voice had mellowed out, not quite as jagged as it had been when she'd first spoken, and it was clear she'd managed to force back some of the heavier emotions. "Just the Ancient Creature up to her - its - tricks I suppose. I shouldn't have fallen for it, really." Birch sighed again, this one sounding more frustrated than sad, and her frown caused the scar across her eye to pull taut. She glanced up, studied the girl for a moment, and forced a small smile to her face. It was clear she was making an effort to be friendly, despite her encounter. Had the girl heard of the Ancient Creature yet? Had she, too, experienced its taunts? Or was she still too new to know of such things, to have come face-to-face with the horror that haunted them? "I'm Birch," she replied, in answer to the second question. "And you are...?" Birch's eyes drifted from the girl to the fox in the distance. The creature's patience was uncanny, just enough for Birch to draw the connection between the girl and the animal. Her familiar, then. Birch's lips curved just slightly at the thought. She'd been lost without her own familiar, an Oriental small-clawed otter named Rochambeau, and even now could feel him tugging at their bond, impatiently waiting for her return to the cabin she and her ward, Torram, shared. She was glad, though, that she'd left the beastie at home. Ro was too playful and silly to take the danger of a fox seriously, especially one who was also a familiar, and it was always better to be safe than sorry. "Are they a friend of yours?" Birch asked, tipping her head in the fox's direction. |
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