New Friends

[NightSteel]

Having never encountered Quincy, the elf had gone down to sleep near to the lake. As was customary for him, he camoflaged himself to do so.

Sleep hadn't come too easily to him, after his little fiasco with poor Sawyer. He had overstepped a line, or at least toed it fairly hard, in his own mind. He had given a lot of thought to it, and had finally managed to sleep once he determined what he was going to do about it.

When he came to again, the sun was shining, the light filtering through his cover. His eyes opened.. to find a little pair of beady black eyes staring right back at him, behind twitchy little whiskers. A mouse had found its way into his little hidey-hole, or perhaps vice versa, and bravely stood his ground, challenging the elf for his space. Well, maybe not quite so bravely.. some elves did seem to have a kinship with animals, and though the bard kept none, when he did encounter them it seemed to hold true for him.

"Hello there, little friend," he began, quietly. "Now, are you invading my space, or have I invaded yours? If it's the latter, I'm sorry," he offers. Carefully, making no fast movements, he fishes a piece of hard bread from a pocket of his vest, which was lying nearby. He broke a piece of it off with his thumb, put the larger piece in his own mouth, and laid the other one before the little mouse, sharing a morning meal.

The rodent's nose twitched uncertainly at the offering, but soon picked it up in his little paws, nibbling away at it. Darrin bit into his own, relaxing as life came back to his body. In general, he woke easily, but that didn't exactly mean that he was also a morning person. He preferred to languish, when he could, and being out, with the sounds of the birds, the wind in the trees, and the splash of the lakeshore.. Well, it was quite tranquil. So, then, was he.

Of course, he couldn't very well eat without polite conversation with his guest (or host), and so he continued on between bites, still quietly. "Mmm, for life to be this simple again. Oh.. where are my manners? I'm Darrin, pleased to meet you," he offered the mouse, reaching out his hand again and carefully extending a hooked finger towards the little one.

The mouse proved to be quite the little lion-heart, temporarily discarding the bit of bread to rise up on his rear paws. It landed upon the elf's finger with its fronts, snuffling about, before becoming disinterested and dropping back down to the bread. That was good enough a handshake for the elf, who next retrieved his waterskin, taking a swig of it before pouring some into a nearby depression in a solid rock.

Of course, the mouse meandered over to have a drink once the last of the bread had vanished, and the elf smiled. "Well, I suppose now that our meal is over, I haven't got any more excuses to lay about." Carefully, slowly, he began pulling on his things beneath his cover; pants, shirt, boots, vest, belt and customary glasses. The mantle and the big weapons would wait until he stood up.

Finally, he peeled back the cover. The little mouse didn't seem too concerned by the sudden onset of light, which caused his glasses to darken a little, gold turning towards a light amber. Time to face the day..

[Pharris]

On days like today - and even some that weren't - it wasn't so uncommon to find the ranger down here, in the mornings. Aside from the Dagger, the lake was just about the only place you'd ever find her - unless you wanted to go trekking after her into the woods.

Of course, most weren't around here this time of day - not that Sawyer had ever seen. It made it an ideal time to enjoy the water, and cleanse herself.

These morning baths had originally come out of a sense of filth - the feeling that the infection was dirty, covering her. Although she had come away from that, the baths were still fun, and the swimming was good exercise. And the water was cool and relaxing on those horrific scars.

Of course, if she'd realized a certain elf were dozing under camouflage not so far away, she'd have likely crawled into the water with something on.

Huddled near the shore, with water up to her chin, Sawyer was sat - she'd had much swimming already, and now was quietly reflecting on her own matters, eyes drawn closed.

[NightSteel]

Some time ago, he and Sawyer had joked about him coming upon her in such a state. He had stated that if he wanted to do such a thing, he would simply walk up to her clothing and stand beside it, or something similar, and she would be too embarassed to come get it. He'd joked that eventually, the lake would steam away from the heat of her blush.

Well, now was as good a time as any.

The elf sat up in his hidey-hole, taking a look around, and there she was. A quick appraisal of the bundle of her clothes that was laid nearby told him everything he needed to know, and so he stood up, lifting up his camoflage cloth, shaking it out to dislodge bits of debris. The mouse crawled onto his mantle, meanwhile, making itself at home.

"Good morning, Sawyer. I hope you slept better than I did."

[Pharris]

Sawyer had been rather enjoying herself. The sun was warm on her wet hair, the light kind on her freckled face. Cool water enshrouded her and soothingly whirled about the marks of her unholy infection. It was always the most relaxing time of day, for the ranger.

Of course, relaxation became panic as a familiar voice called her name. Eyes did not open slowly - they were wide in a flash, and there was a mighty splash as she half turned in the water, to face him. Her wits were, of course, about her, as arms were immediately wrapped about her chest and knees were risen, heels pulled back; her posture was keenly defensive. And why not! Here she was, caught at her most vulnerable. Of course, there were far worse people to be caught by - but far better, too. The blind elf Aislinn would've been nice - she would not have been able to see the colour crawling into Sawyer's face, perhaps even visible in her shoulders beneath the water.

"Da-Darrin!" she squeaked in fright, ducking face just a little. Water lapped at the ring which hugged her lower lip.

"Wh-what a-are you do-doing here?!" Silly question, it wasn't as if she owned the lake. Eyes flitted to her clothes, oh so near him.

Oh, evil, evil elf.

[NightSteel]

"Waking up," he replied simply, smiling. He didn't stare, didn't leer, didn't even make a point of facing in her direction, oh no.. just smiled serenely as he went about cleaning up his 'campsite'. She couldn't blame him for this one! He was in the clear. He folded up the cloth and tucked it away in one of the many pockets of his vest, then started hauling up his weapons. If she was sharp, she might notice that he was missing one of his swords.

Quiver and bow were hung upon his back, and he next picked up his mantle--carefully, since the little mouse was still on it--and swung it around his shoulders. The overlarge weaponry just seemed to disappear into it, as usual, and he fastened it around his neck. The little mouse skittered from one shoulder to the other, and he produced another little bit of hard bread, passing it up to the brave little rodent idly.

"Enjoying your swim?"

[Pharris]

He was teasing her. Sawyer was used to this, being the object of his sense of humour - she'd gotten used to it, and on some level, had learned to enjoy it.

Of course, right now her sense of modesty kept her from offering a quiet smile - that would only be encouragement. She was sinking down, to just her eyes.

Gaze was flickering over this scene - Darrin cleaning up his belongings, and offering a treat to his new pet. It was a cute little thing - Sawyer'd have been quick to coo over it if the circumstances were different. Cheeks were brilliant. A deep breath taken through her nose - risen out of the water first - and then expelled as bubbles. Calming. Then she was slowly sitting up, until lake surface lapped at her shoulders. Folded up as she was, there wasn't much he could see he hadn't already, after all, right? What was there to be embarrassed about?

Well, everything.

Still, she was trying to relax, deep breaths, expelled soothingly. "Y-yes, I... a sw-swim i-is good f-for me e-every day. I-it's..."

Silly small talk. Quite simply, she had something else she wanted to ask - she and Larune had conversed long into the wee hours and much of the subject had been...

"Wh-why did y-you run away la-last night?"

[NightSteel]

Once he was finished gathering his own things, the elf stepped over to hers and picked them up. He had a fair idea that this in itself would alarm her, but thankfully, his intentions were (more or less) sterling. He walked down closer to the waterside to leave them upon a high rock, so they would be closer to her, and then turned around to sit on that rock, facing away from her. He had, of course, anticipated her question, it was what had kept him awake into the night. He had an answer for her, thankfully.

"I have been trying to, well, be nice. There was no malice in me when I reached to trace your leg, but.. I found your reaction pleasing. I wanted, at that moment, to do it again. The thought, of course, came into conflict with my better sensibilities, and I was unable to resolve the conflict at that moment. All I knew was.. I couldn't stay. I didn't want.. to make it any worse by repeating my action, or.. saying something I would regret in my frustration."

He set one elbow upon his knee, leaning on it.

"Afterwards, I came down here to think on it, and sleep. I.. had planned to ask your permission to kiss you, as I said I would," he admits. "But, I think the circumstances aren't quite right." As the saying goes.. the truth shall set you free. He felt better already.

"I am sorry. It seems that I wasn't entirely correct when I said that I am not weak, and that I don't need you." He stared at nothing in particular, the little mouse running up into his hair and climbing, after finishing its second breakfast. The elf smiled a little. He was enjoying his new companion.

[Pharris]

Well, she'd been in the water long enough anyhow; as he faced away, she was quietly crawling from the water. Of course, she had nothing with which to dry herself, Sawyer had always let the sun do its job in that respect. Still, her undergarments were appropriate, at the very least, and she was quick to retrieve these and put them on. They'd dry well enough in the sun.

And then she was sitting down by the rock, leaning back upon it, trying not to curl in upon herself, as that would only halt the warmth filtering from the sky of its duty.

With some semblance of modesty regained, she was now free to reflect upon his words. Brow would furrow ever so mildly, and a soft sigh was ushered.

"I..." she began, hesitantly. I, I, I. A little sigh. Always so selfish. At least, that's how she felt - always thinking about her own suffering. Never quite enough about the suffering of others. Sawyer had thought this was... behind them, shamefully. The woeful discomfort of these quiet, awkward moments.

"I d-don't... I don't... u-understand," she'd sad slowly, carefully. Fingers would lift to tug at her exceedingly small undershirt, up towards her chin, carefully adjusting it for modesty's sake. And then hands would fall to the grass, sweeping back and forth slowly as she half turned, to glance his way. Then eyes were back up towards the sky.

"Y-you don't... d-don't really n-need me, I me-mean... Y-you're smart, a-and strong... Y-you're b-better than me at e-everything. Y-you're hea-healthy, and kn-know more th-than I pro-probably ever w-will." He had, after all, already exceeded her life expectancy. "Y-you're t-tall and h-handsome, a-and could proba-bably have a-any woman y-you wanted."

A shake of her head, brows furrowed. "B-but I'm... I'm sm-small, a-and... weak. I-I'm not v-very smart, a-and I'm so-sort of a c-coward." She was drawing her knees up to her chest, now, crushing her breasts against them. A little sniff, although she wasn't crying, or even close to it. Just a tired sniff.

"I-I t-talk f-funny, a-and don't kn-know many things. I'm no-not good at m-much, and I-I'm always cr-crying. A-and I'm... I'm..." At this, she was extending her arm out before her, to behold the scars. "I-I'm sick. A-and ugly."

Now she was turning her head away from him further still, to rest her cheek against her knee, arms clutching her legs close.

"I-I do-don't underst-stand why y-you are s-so i-interested in a wo-woman l-like me..."

And abruptly she was looking towards him, half turning, peering over her shoulder. Hair was wet, clinging to her features, away from her eye - the mismatched stare, green and white death, was there to behold. Only one eye could look sad. The other held a perpetual, disquieting apathy.

"I-if y-you c-can... c-can e-explain t-to me wh-why I... I'm wo-worth s-so much a-attention... th-then..." A deep breath, slowly released.

"...th-then y-you can k-kiss me."

[NightSteel]

Well. Not only shall the truth set you free, but honesty begets honesty. He listened to everything she had to say, continuing to face away for her modesty's sake. There were lots of potential answers to the challenge she had issued, but there was only one answer to all the negativity that she had leveled against herself, after heaping him with such praise.

"I see you differently than you do, just as you see me differently than I do." As for why she deserved his attention.. "I see in you a kindred soul. I want to know you better." Of course, that doesn't address any of the specific things of which she had spoken, but he apparently didn't feel the need to. "Now that I think about it, though.. I don't think I want to be allowed to kiss you. I'd much rather be wanted. So, I suppose you're safe." A wry, self-deprecating smile crossed his lips.

He stretched out his arm, then, in no particular direction. The little mouse ran down to the palm of his hand, where he again produced a tiny bit of bread from between his fingers. He was going to make the poor little thing fat. Of course, this made for a handy distraction, during which he wiped at his eyes a bit with his free hand.

She had kind of a point, in all honesty. He didn't know her *that* well, it wasn't like they'd spent a lot of time together. He was simply.. quite taken with her. He wanted very much to know her better. And he did see her quite differently than she saw herself. A slight chuckle escaped him, as another thought came to mind.

"I know you don't believe me, but I'm not a liar, and remember, elves are wise."

[Pharris]

'I'd much rather be wanted'. Her head hung a little bit, and shoulders hunched. That was the hitch of it, wasn't it? As much as he desired her, she couldn't work up the same in return - she liked Darrin, sure, a great deal. He was a valuable friend who she enjoyed easy moments with. Yet... she did not feel desire in return. Why was that?

There was a sense of loss - of lost opportunity. Her challenge had been more or less evaded; she'd been really told nothing that she'd not already heard. Many people said to Sawyer they saw her differently than she saw herself. But why couldn't they ever tell her what it was they saw, exactly? There was passing examples. "She's brave", "she's intelligent", "she's strong"... But none of these Sawyer saw in herself, no matter how she was told.

And it certainly wasn't that she thought he was lying...well, not exactly. Perhaps, though, she felt he was embellishing the truth. It was just unfathomable to her that she could truly be an object of desire. Every time Sawyer reflected on the idea, those same negatives she'd just explained came and slammed her again, reminding her of all her glaring failings.

How many had needlessly lost their lives due to her failings?

A bit of a tear was welling in her good eye now, hands lifting to clutch at her hair softly. "I-I'm not wo-worth it," she'd assure him in a choked voice. "I-I'm not w-worth th-the stress a-and h-heartache, Da-Darrin." Now it broke loose, her freckled features stained by the salty wet of a tear.

"I-I'm just a mo-monster wh-who shouldn't b-be a-alive."

[NightSteel]

What could be said, to something like that?

He turned his hand over and over, the mouse running circles around it. His answer really hadn't been an evasion. It was simply the most succinct way he could think of to explain himself. It seemed.. pointless to try and explain to her, in some ways. It was so hard to change the things that people believed.. he knew it well. There simply were no easy answers, no one-shot lines that could make it all better.

Finally, he slid off the rock, down to sit beside her, the rodent returning to his shoulder. "What would you have of me, Sawyer? What part of me could possibly address your concerns? Shall I launch into loquacious rebuttal? Talk about the adorable way that you peer from beneath your hair? Your sunny smile? Your fetching form? Your lovely laughter? How about the way you have at making me smile, or laugh? Or the way that your precious heart shines through in everything that you do? Don't think that I couldn't. But would it change your mind about yourself? Could anything I say do that?"

He took a breath, then continued, shaking his head. Meanwhile, he reached up to toy idly with the little critter on his shoulder, letting it crawl between his fingers. "It is so easy to mistake meanings when speaking of such things.. Please don't mistake me, my friend. I see beauty in everything about you. And I will still admit that I am taken with you.. but it is not something that you should even be worrying over, much less crying over, for my sake. I am not important to you.. You should be important to you. You're no monster, and I hope that someday, you will see. It's such a terrible waste for you to think that way.. if for no other reason than while you are busy worrying, life passes you by."

Finally, he reached out with his free arm, to place his hand upon her non-scarred shoulder. "You should be living it, not running from it. Chase your dreams."

At that moment, he wanted to hold her. But doing so would have been counterproductive; he didn't want to smother her. So instead, he simply remained there, nearby, just hoping that his presence was even a tiny bit as reassuring as he intended it to be.

[Pharris]

Selfish, selfish, selfish. And why?

Because those were exactly the sorts of things she wanted to hear.

Sawyer was forever stressing the value of simplicity - and it was these little things, tiny compliments, that swelled her heart. Small words that made her sound... made her feel human.

Eye would turn sullenly to the elf, still dripping with tears. Her sob was a quiet thing, the hitch of breath catching in her chest. She really did cry a lot, didn't she? It wasn't hard to set her off. Emotional to a fault, that was Sawyer...

Chase her dreams. He was right, of course - she spent so much time feeling sorry for herself, so much time just huddled, stagnant, letting life pass her by. Maybe she wasn't supposed to be alive; but she'd been given this chance. She was alive.

Something had to happen - Sawyer was alive. She had dreams, desires - and was going nowhere, content to just sit and rot in misery for nothing. She was alive, human, with... a fetching form, a sunny smile, a precious heart. Her tears redoubled, and she swallowed a sob. Emotional to a fault. They were overwhelming, so many feelings, and she felt her chest might explode with the cumulative force of joy, hope, sadness, misery. The scars burned, and tingled, all at once... Too much to contain. Her face would crumple pitifully. Something... had... to happen.

And suddenly she was turning, throwing herself against the elf, arms encircling his neck. Eyes would draw to a close as scarred lips would move to steal his own.

[NightSteel]

The mouse squeaked in protest as it was swept off his shoulder by the flying Sawyer, tumbling down the back of his mantle, catching to hang there for a moment before scurrying the rest of the way down, with another squeak. How rude!


The elf's reaction was somewhat less indignant, which is to say, it wasn't indignant at all. He was surprised.. but he didn't have all that much time to think about why, with her lips upon his. Carefully, very carefully, he circled one arm around her still-damp back, to grasp her non-scarred shoulder. His other hand settled perhaps a bit forwardly, but lightly, low on the unblemished side of her waist. His back met that high rock after a moment.

The kiss of his fine lips was a tentative thing. Of course, he responded to her, holding her shoulders firmly and her waist gently. There was.. a need in him. But, the beautiful ranger's innocence, her simple purity of heart, was part of her draw to him. There was nothing he would do to risk damaging that, not even maybe kissing her a little too deeply.

That didn't keep him from losing himself in her, though. The red-haired bard regretted his glasses for just a moment before his own eyes closed. He took a deep breath, drawing a lungful of Sawyer's earthy scent, and his heart sang in his ears. He felt safe enough to encourage her, ever so gently, to climb into his lap, inviting her with both arms.

In that moment, when the world fell away, life was.. perfect.

[Pharris]

Sawyer often became overwhelmed. She often spoke of it, often endured it - how things became too much for her. How her emotions ran amok and she simply shut down.

Tears were still crawling over her cheek, and thoughts of a wasted existance tormented her mind. On the other hand, there was a safety, a joy - how human Sawyer felt in this instant. How much... a woman, she felt.

There was a need in Darrin. In Sawyer, there was desperation. Her own kiss was not tentative. She'd eagerly crawled against him, kneeling across his legs. Arms tight, her mouth was greedy, chest heaving for breath and convulsing with hiccups.

Arms and legs were a tangle, and the ranger could feel her scars so keenly - being held, being brushed by clothes. It made her spine crawl with chills, body shake with trembling.

All the while, mind was a chaotic whirlwind - here she was, alive. Not dead, alive, and she'd been wasting this. Hadn't she? So many opportunities, no doubt, that she'd already missed, or forfeit, for her wretched self pity. Yet it just couldn't be shaken - Sawyer could not set aside her faults and fully embrace her better qualities.

So much heat in her body - there was still a subtle burn to the scars. It was only faintly helped by the dampness of her swim. Elven hands were on her shoulder, at her hip. How wonderful it felt to the ranger, to be held, to be shown that despite her disfigurements, she could be an object of desire.

She, she, she.

Sawyer often became overwhelmed.

It struck her like a slap in the face, eyes opening with a start. This was selfish - nothing had really changed. She wanted to be held, to be kissed, to be treated as an object of love. And Darrin had found the words to swell that desire into action. Yet, how much had her feelings changed?

Her horrific realisation was that she was, at this moment, only using him.

When Sawyer became overwhelmed, she shut down. This... was just a new way to shut down.

Tears redoubled, and lips parted abruptly. Auburn-and-white hair would dance between their faces as she was struggling free of the embrace, forcibly pushing loose, wobbling swiftly to her feet.

So, so selfish. How much hurt would come of this?

There was an audible sob. Her scars still tingled, her whole body trembling with those overwhelming sensations.

Sawyer often became overwhelmed.

"I-I'm so... s-s-so s-sorry...!" Sawyer would blurt to the elf, backing away. There was horror in what she'd just let herself indulge upon - how far would she have gone! That thought was too much. Hands flew to the sides of her head, which continued to shake in horrified disbelief.

"D-Darrin, I...!" she began. When a sob interrupted her helpless stuttering, it was too much. Sawyer would turn, and dart off toward home, forgetful of the bundle of her belongings - desperate only to flee from her terrible crime.

Sawyer often became overwhelmed...

[NightSteel]

He had, far in the back of his mind, wondered if such a thing would happen. In truth, it had been a little selfish of him to *let* her kiss him--there was a small measure of using her in doing so, letting her become lost in the moment. But, though he was not human, he came close. He knew that those around him could see it in him. He was calm, stable, and even warm, where most elves were aloof. So, it stood to reason that he inherited some human flaws, too.

All the humanity in the world could be of little consolation to him, though. Heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears, he reached out for her, his pleas for her to wait lost on her ears as she turned and fled. He hoped that she would forgive him, and herself. After some moments of calming breath, he spoke to nobody in particular, shaking his head.

"Well.. that could have gone better."

He was left with the admittedly not unpleasant sight of Sawyer running in her underwear, and a pile of her things. If only the situation could have been more pleasant, he might have been able to appreciate it.


The little mouse climbed up on his knee, then, twitching its whiskers in the air, its round little eyes staring up at him.

"Love me and leave me.. Just like a woman," he lamented to the little rodent. He chuckled, reaching out to let the little mouse climb back up to his shoulder. Carefully, he stood up, brushing himself off, and turned to Sawyer's things. How does one fold clothing that is only half there? He managed, somehow, coming up with a length of twine to tie the bundle up. He tucked it all under his arm, then simply began walking after her. She would probably try, but she couldn't avoid him forever.

Well. Unless she actually wanted to.