Post by chalice on Sept 30, 2015 15:37:28 GMT
(08:32:26 )
..More real than the law..
Chalice
....of Red Fjord....
Gor - Imagine Chat
You are in the deep northern forest. You hear Kur growls
says to ALL:
She hated him.
It was just that easy, Chalice thought as fear and anger knotted her belly to an acidy twist in
the sounds of the predawn forest where shadowy branches seemed to stretch and shift beneath a
restless wind with the menace of a clawing fingers against the silvery sky. If the Outlaw who
seized her from a willful day’s little detour in the Fjord had to die, the decency to do it a
damn sight closer to home would’ve been nice. Yet as it was she was she’d been traveling for
days, the meager supplies from the hovel the Bastard never returned in an old half-ripped tunic
whose sleeves now crossed a loose tie over each shoulder as did the twisted tails of the huge
garment that wrapped a soft cling on the tattered kirtle beneath a large fur that nearly covered
the girl from tip to booted toes.
Deft fingers lifted...casually combing thru small sections of the wild spill of fiery strands
that played soft against the fur's irritating heat with each move of the young woman’s cautious
steps, a spring green gaze vigilantly scanned the twisting path's faint trace deeper into the
forest's canopy of shadows watching for signs of life, and death, for that matter as carefully
placed feet recalled her hunter’s training to move silent as the shadows when seeking your prey.
The memory itself allowing a smile's wry hint to curl the corner of what was known to be an
occasionally willful mouth. Reminded of her mother’s exasperation when permitted to learn the
hunt, the simple survival need in North when Men went to raids and everyone pulled together.
She’d still argued it wasn’t the place for a young girl, yet her Father permitted the bow
training and helped define a sharp-shot with rocks beneath the warmth of laughing eyes she
desperately missed sometimes. Re-focusing quickly as the rough bump of root, rock and branch
warranted attention, a slender form continued move quiet through the forest.
(09:14:24 )
..More real than the law..
Chalice
....of Red Fjord....
Gor - Imagine Chat
You are in the deep northern forest. You hear Kur growls
says to ALL: Adjusting the old tunic's sleeves from their bite into tender flesh at her
shoulders, the small makeshift sack settled again to the natural grace of a lengthy spine beneath
the fur's heavy warmth..a muttered cuss cursed Odin’s laughing eyes when a jagged rock caused
lanky strides to stumble. Quickly righting herself again...the noise deafening in the deep
forest's silence...she held absolutely still..except for the barely there breath spilling a soft
cling of steam from the warm altar of her mouth...listening intent for any o.t.h.e.r. sounds
answering her own...before she'd breathe normal and try to calm a trip-hammer heart tattooing a
healthy heaving chest.
She long since had known she was Odin’s damn chew toy..a scowl narrowed snapping green eyes ad
that mix of fear and anger warred internally for first place in Chalice’s spirited mind. Slowly
the stride carefully again, a smooth rhythm of breath gently drawn and blown out slow..she'd
really feel much better if even the smallest dagger..a kitchen knife pried from a block
table...anything..might've been gained from the Outlaw's hovel before she left but it was there'd
been nothing there. Tonight, if she lived until the night, she’d gather a few branches and begin
to sharpen their edges with one of three flat rocks she was happy to have in her pocket, not only
for a little protection but the rapidly dwindling of jerky and food stuff. If nothing else, she
had to find the river she’d caught a glimpse of coming down of the mountain a couple days ago.
The river meant fresh water, fishing with a sharpened branch, hopefully a chance to wash the
remnants of the Outlaw’s putrid touch from her skin, and a path to follow..to either outlaws or
trade Outlaws and Trade, to an outpost where a she might might find shelter.
..More real than the law..
Chalice
....of Red Fjord....
Gor - Imagine Chat
You are in the deep northern forest. You hear Kur growls
says to ALL:
She hated him.
It was just that easy, Chalice thought as fear and anger knotted her belly to an acidy twist in
the sounds of the predawn forest where shadowy branches seemed to stretch and shift beneath a
restless wind with the menace of a clawing fingers against the silvery sky. If the Outlaw who
seized her from a willful day’s little detour in the Fjord had to die, the decency to do it a
damn sight closer to home would’ve been nice. Yet as it was she was she’d been traveling for
days, the meager supplies from the hovel the Bastard never returned in an old half-ripped tunic
whose sleeves now crossed a loose tie over each shoulder as did the twisted tails of the huge
garment that wrapped a soft cling on the tattered kirtle beneath a large fur that nearly covered
the girl from tip to booted toes.
Deft fingers lifted...casually combing thru small sections of the wild spill of fiery strands
that played soft against the fur's irritating heat with each move of the young woman’s cautious
steps, a spring green gaze vigilantly scanned the twisting path's faint trace deeper into the
forest's canopy of shadows watching for signs of life, and death, for that matter as carefully
placed feet recalled her hunter’s training to move silent as the shadows when seeking your prey.
The memory itself allowing a smile's wry hint to curl the corner of what was known to be an
occasionally willful mouth. Reminded of her mother’s exasperation when permitted to learn the
hunt, the simple survival need in North when Men went to raids and everyone pulled together.
She’d still argued it wasn’t the place for a young girl, yet her Father permitted the bow
training and helped define a sharp-shot with rocks beneath the warmth of laughing eyes she
desperately missed sometimes. Re-focusing quickly as the rough bump of root, rock and branch
warranted attention, a slender form continued move quiet through the forest.
(09:14:24 )
..More real than the law..
Chalice
....of Red Fjord....
Gor - Imagine Chat
You are in the deep northern forest. You hear Kur growls
says to ALL: Adjusting the old tunic's sleeves from their bite into tender flesh at her
shoulders, the small makeshift sack settled again to the natural grace of a lengthy spine beneath
the fur's heavy warmth..a muttered cuss cursed Odin’s laughing eyes when a jagged rock caused
lanky strides to stumble. Quickly righting herself again...the noise deafening in the deep
forest's silence...she held absolutely still..except for the barely there breath spilling a soft
cling of steam from the warm altar of her mouth...listening intent for any o.t.h.e.r. sounds
answering her own...before she'd breathe normal and try to calm a trip-hammer heart tattooing a
healthy heaving chest.
She long since had known she was Odin’s damn chew toy..a scowl narrowed snapping green eyes ad
that mix of fear and anger warred internally for first place in Chalice’s spirited mind. Slowly
the stride carefully again, a smooth rhythm of breath gently drawn and blown out slow..she'd
really feel much better if even the smallest dagger..a kitchen knife pried from a block
table...anything..might've been gained from the Outlaw's hovel before she left but it was there'd
been nothing there. Tonight, if she lived until the night, she’d gather a few branches and begin
to sharpen their edges with one of three flat rocks she was happy to have in her pocket, not only
for a little protection but the rapidly dwindling of jerky and food stuff. If nothing else, she
had to find the river she’d caught a glimpse of coming down of the mountain a couple days ago.
The river meant fresh water, fishing with a sharpened branch, hopefully a chance to wash the
remnants of the Outlaw’s putrid touch from her skin, and a path to follow..to either outlaws or
trade Outlaws and Trade, to an outpost where a she might might find shelter.
