endlight

/ while he avoids settlements when he can, he does occasionally make himself head into them to look for jobs and bounties that he can fulfill. he doesn't care to enrich himself. hunting a beast down and besting it is reward enough for him (—he'll still take the coin tho) 

/ his mentor figure ( /the grizzled old ranger who came across this half feral runaway in the woods) wasn't the most learned man, but he taught the boy everything he knew. he turned him into a skilled hunter and tracker, a fighter who can go toe to toe with the deadliest of beasts. 

/ so his speech may be disjointed and awkward because not only is he unaccustomed to being around people, but he often has almost physical difficulty speaking thanks to his lovely little childhood  

(ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱˡᵈᵉʳⁿᵉˢˢ﹖) {ʸᵉˢ﹒ ᴮᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᴰʳᵘᵗʰ﹒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉʳᵉ ˢᵒ ˡᵒˢᵗ﹒} (ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐˢ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᵗᵒᵒ. ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ʸᵒᵘ, ˢᵉⁿᵘᵃ.)
            
            Her posture relaxed with the other's. She took a look to the left and right. A cautious instinct to observe before engaging. Then she stepped closer. She was simply dressed for survival. Patched furs and leathers held together in rugged fashion. Her earthly green scarf protecting her neck. Her upper arms up the shoulders were exposed, though her forearms were wrapped tightly in linen. Her thickly braided hair flowed with her head movements. A few cords of leather and blue beads shinning though the mass of hair. A headband featuring a triskele inbeded in its center kept the hair out of her face. "I... I was following a path, trying to clear my head." She looked behind her for a moment, as if trying to retrace her steps. "I must have lost track in my thoughts." She reached into a travel poach strapped to her sword belt and revealed two pieces of dried meat. She sheepishly stepped closer and offered one of the morsels. "Are you out here... willingly?" 

@FuryLed ,
            "nor did i," he says once he catches his breath and his heart no longer feels as if it will break through his ribs. surely, she didn't mean to surprise him so. and surely he didn't mean for his immediate response to be one of panic. how long has it been since he saw another living person? since he heard a voice that wasn't his own? he tries to count the days... or should he be counting the change in seasons? his grip tightens on his bow, then loosens, the length of yew sliding through his hand until the end plants into the ground. at ease, not a threat. he swallows hard, and for a moment, seems to struggle shaping the words. "i didn't think anyone else came out this far. willingly— I didn't think anyone willingly came out this far." 

@taverntunes ,
            
            the corner of his mouth twitches and it's unclear if the intention is an attempt at a smile or a grimace. or, simply the unfortunate side effect of being isolated in the wilderness for so long that one has forgotten how expressions work. his eyes, a sharp shock of pale blue, never linger on anything for too long. they flick away to the drink, to the other patrons, to the stained and scuffed surface of the table, but rarely rising to meet that of the stranger. 
            
            "i've never been here before," he admits, forcing himself to take another drink. "i only came into town this evening. heard there was work—" he cuts himself off with a wince. nope, he has already said far too much. he lifts his drink, tips it towards the stranger as if that's enough to draw attention away from himself. "so you travel .. and play music. do you make a lot of coin that way?" anything to draw attention away. 

@endlight 
            
            that almost casted a laugh out from his throat , though the bard was quick to catch himself .  knew better than to let out even the smallest of snickers from someone ALMOST making a fool of themselves .  “ right..  perhaps i misjudged .  ” he answered , rubbing his chin lightly as his lips were firmly pressed together .  “ ah  ,  yes !  forgive the intrusion .  i’ve simply came out of curiosity .  can’t say i have ever spotted you here before .  then again..  i am indeed new to this tavern .  ” he stood up more straight , however continued to press a palm into the table .  “ i’m a traveler you see .  i play music to whoever may listen..  or doesn’t .  not that it matters .   i simply enjoy the act of playing my lute .  and coins..  mostly coins .  ”

@taverntunes ,
            
            "hm?" the voice tears him from his reverie and he nearly spills his tankard as he startles back to awareness. to the hum of voices, the smells of spilt ale and unwashed bodies. a tavern, busier than he remembered it being. "no, i'm brooding," he says with a nod, clearing his throat and lifting his drink to his lips. "very broody.." he mumbles into the rim as he wonders how long he had been daydreaming. the drink's gone flat and far too warm and he tries very hard not to make a face at the taste of it on his tongue. "uh. is there something i can help you with?" 

@lykhaos ,
            
            there is a pause that spans several seconds when a breath is drawn, words perched upon the young man's tongue before he bites them back. "not that long," he murmurs. "an hour and a half, at most."  but is matters not in the end. he is well and truly lost and going in circles. and it would seem his mishap has not gone unnoticed. he turns to face the woman with heat rising to his cheeks and a gaze unwilling to completely meet her's. "maybe .. alright, maybe i am a /little/ lost. if you could—-" a sharp breath and he shakes his head. "if you could help me out of here, i would .. appreciate..  it." 

@endlight  
            
            i’m sure you are. after all, you have been walking in circles for what? a few hours now? 
            
            [the witch hummed, seeing through his lie. so much pride and for what? getting lost in this forest that frida knew like the palm of her hand.]
            
            i’m here because i live here and i know the way to the closest village. but since you know the way, i supposed you don’t need me to show you. 

@lykhaos , 
            
            "i'm not lost."  the words come muttered under breath as he trudges to the bend in the forest then stops, swallows hard and grips the yew bow tight in his hand. he isn't lost, he tells himself. and yet he knows he's been here before. passed through and the cursed forest turned him back around. the knots in the wood like eyes staring back at him. he exhales, blows a loose strand of hair from his face, then turns. "i meant to go this way," he lies, poorly. "why are you here?" 

@espinasin ,   
             
            ..the first thought is pain. the second thought is that the head of an arrow can pierce skin as cleanly as a knife and his quiver is within arms reach. the arrows spill onto the ground as he seizes one from the bundle, a messy and uncoordinated display but there is still power beneath each movement, in the way he holds himself. an animal caught in a snare, an arrowhead mere inches from parting the skin. then the other speaks, and only then he relents. "i don't.." he shakes his head, confusion knitting his brow. indeed, there is a void where time should be. he does not recall where he is, how he came to this place, and if the one before him be friend or foe. he does not drop the arrow. "i don't .. know you. do i?"