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| Burning Tree; Private Sel | |
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| Topic Started: Mar 16 2009, 10:48 AM (74 Views) | |
| Dugan | Mar 16 2009, 10:48 AM Post #1 |
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Explorer
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To say that Dugan had done his father proud was an understatement, a massive understatement. In the time that he has been on his own, he has been shot by arrows, twice; and beaten up by a bandit who also happened to be a woman. After that he had spent a good amount of time in a tavern until he finally started to roam around avalon again. But now his luck(bad luck more like it) had caught up to him, He had found himself lost in the outlands. He knew nothing of this place and night had fallen on the region. Snow had just begun to fall, leaving a light coat on the grass covered soil. The Bandit was out in a field, a feidl centered on the outskirts of a nearby forest. There were but a few trees growing out in that field, most of which being quite young. One in particular had found itself in the company of Dugan, who had set up camp near it. He had just recently set up a fire there and was finding himself a bit on the cold side with the falling snow. It was more than enough to make him wish he had brought more with him, rather than what he was wearing right now. His was the typical bandit dress and here it was lacking, very lacking. But his warmth woes would be short lived, just like his ego. An ember made the jump into the air, propelled by the fresh smoke and heat rising from the camp fire. That ember took a lofty path as it drifted through the air and landed on one of the leaves of the tree. That small ember soon became a small flame, which grew steadily; feasting on the leaf. As the flame began to grow, Dugan took notice. However he didn't really mind the small fire that was burning the tree to ash, for him it would be relief from the cold. If he had any idea of what was coming, Dugan would have tried to put out the fire as quickly as possible to avoid another beating. |
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Dugan Mac Owen Dugan's stash | |
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| Persephone Fallenheart | Mar 26 2009, 10:31 AM Post #2 |
Newcomer
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Persephone liked to think that the snow was beautiful. Other than the fact that it was so damn cold and wet, she agreed with the winter landscape: all the trees covered with a dusty powdering, and the ground a blanket of white as far as the eye could see. It was part of the reasons why she loved forests the way she did. They changed with the season, and their mystery & beauty only grew as time went on. There was always something new to do or see. However, with winter, came the danger of frostbite and succumbing to the snow sickness. She had heard stories of nymphs napping in trees who had never woken up, frozen solid by the cold. Gathering firewood for her den in the middle of a tree started early and never really ended. Since she refused to take fresh branches, she had to gather twigs and dead wood that fell naturally - it was the only way. Thus, she had a store of firewood for the winter, with no trees being harmed in the process. That didn't mean that everyone followed such a strict system. With winter came travelers, all of whom had no respect or common sense when dealing with the forest. They trekked through the woods, cutting down trees and warming themselves as the trees died and screamed in silent outrage. It was one such scream that woke Persephone from her slumber, her eyes flaring with anger. "Some fool has gotten himself in deep trouble, and I shall have to teach him a lesson," she thought as she sprinted through the branches, her feet barely touching before she had launched herself into the air again. Though short in stature, she made up for what she lacked in height with spirit and temper. She was quick to anger, and lighting a whole tree on fire would just about do it. Not to mention that it was cold: her usual leaf tunic did not suffice, and she had been forced to wrap herself in furs of fallen animals to keep warm, which did nothing to sweeten her mood. She could see the smoke in the distance, and could hear her friend screaming. There was nothing she could do; putting out the fire would do nothing now. Believe it or not, forests needed a fire every now and then: but winter was not the place, and nature took care of that need on it's own. They didn't need help. "You don't know what you've done," she whispered, landing on the ground, putting her hands on her hips, and glaring at the man who sat there peacefully. "Fool, show respect and rise. I shall have to teach you the meaning of pain."
Edited by Sir, Apr 9 2009, 03:03 AM.
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8:43 PM Mar 18
