Post by Trinea on Oct 10, 2010 9:04:31 GMT -5
((I know I haven't posted in here for forever (well, ever since Kinu died) but I still <3 you guys.
I saw Ish's story on Brok, so I figured I'd post something about Bear. Since the only other story I've written since involves him, uhm, torturing someone (I will post it if you want me to), you get this story! Hurrah. ))
Baril laid partly sitting up in a bed, the sleeping form of Errigal resting next to him. He sat there quietly, but clearly wide awake, listening attentively to the warlock's breathing as though afraid it'd stop.
For a while it had.
For a while Errigal had lain dead on the floor, while Baril was powerless to do anything except watch the healers do their work. That and yell at the one who he believed had hurt the warlock. For a while Baril thought he might lose him.
He froze as Errigal rolled over. He didn't move, barely even breathed until the steady, quiet rhythm of the warlock's breathing could be heard again.
Baril relaxed, but only slightly. He didn't want to fall back asleep again. He wasn't up to dealing with the nightmares.
Baril sighed quietly, slipping out of the bed. He needed to clear his head.
He dressed in pants, boots and a loose shirt before slipping out of the room. As he walked along a dark hallway, he remembered something Errigal had said. Stay out of the art gallery. There isn't actually any art in there. Well, what was in there? Probably something either ridiculous or horribly morbid, knowing Errigal.
But he had no idea where the art gallery was and he didn't want to stay in the manor any longer then he could help it. Baril paused outside a door after walking for an uncertain amount of time, not actually sure where he was. He looked around sheepishly to make sure no one was watching before he sniffed the air.
He smelled servants long come and gone, now probably asleep, along with various cleaning products and the pungent scent of lotus. Lotus? He smelled that on Syviel last night. Another sniff confirmed his suspicions. He'd wandered all the way over to Syviel's room.
He'd also caught the scent of that warlock that had tried to hurt Errigal, too, along with a whirl of tangled and confused emotions. Baril shook his head. At least he had an idea of where he was now.
Sure enough, a few minutes later Baril slipped out into the gardens. Not exactly where he wanted to end up, but at least he was outside.
A glorious half moon hung unchallenged in the sky. No clouds to obscure it and the stars dimmed in comparison. He cursed the pale light it shed across the landscape as he walked down a garden path, heading towards the forested area in the distance. d**ned if this place wasn't huge, and if anyone saw him he was sure there'd be talk.
There was probably talk already. A few people had seen Errigal when he first came into the estate, weak and leaning heavily against Baril. Some bodyguard he was, eh?
Despite the position being almost jokingly fabricated by Errigal to wave away his presence at the estate, Baril took it a little more seriously.
He trotted across the field with a smooth gait, wondering if anyone still hunted in this area. Baril couldn't imagine any of the Camilles doing it, though he had a feeling if any of the nearby farmers tried to hunt on this land the price would be a hefty one.
Baril felt himself relax as soon as he ventured under the shelter of the trees. He paused, looking back at the manor silhouetted against the moon.
Not your world, the cynical part of him thought bitterly. You'll always be a southern farm boy, however much you try to hide it.
He turned away and wandered deeper into the forest.
Baril walked without care as to where was going. At least here he was confident he could find his way back.
But he couldn't stop the feeling of guilt that nagged at him, as though he were betraying Errigal in some weird way by acting anything other then human. Well, not like he could do anything about it.
He stopped when he came upon something of a clearing, the sound of a water flowing nearby. He walked over to a large bolder and leaned against it, watching leaves float by in the river. They were all colors, brown, red, yellow. Autumn was fast approaching.
After a few moments he turned away, looking around. The manor couldn't be seen through the thick canopy of trees. He idly wondered how large this forested area was as he took his shirt off, setting it on the stone. Most of the wounds he received fighting the satyr had faced.
He took a few steps into the clearing with bare feet, feeling the leaves and dirt. He made a mental note to wash his feet when he got back in a moment before he grasped the amulet Dhalla had given him.
Baril was still unaccustomed to the fast Change, but he was getting better. It seemed only seconds went by before he was in his other shape, as opposed to long, agonizing minutes.
Baril shook his head, adjusting to the different viewpoint. While in his human shape he had improved senses, it was on an entirely different level as a worgen.
He stood there for a moment, then loped off through the trees...
Several hours later, Baril returned to the clearing in human form, dragging the bones of a small deer carcass behind him. He hadn't really intended to hunt, but it'd been there and he'd been caught off guard and when it started running the worgen had said chase...
Well, there wasn't much he could do except clean up afterwards. Light knew if people started shouting wolf or, this close to Silverpine, worgen...
Baril had lived in relative secrecy with the curse for two years by not being dumb. He knew even the slightest suspicion would probably get fingers pointed at him. If only he'd been around the estate longer...
He growled at the lack of a shovel, but through some creative breaking of bones and remaining sinew, he managed to fit the bones in a rather small hole. Again, he prayed no one hunted.
Hopefully the scent of worgen would be enough to keep any hounds away (though if they were wolfhounds, Baril was in trouble. He'd had more then a few nasty run ins with them and the scars to prove it.) and if they found the carcass no one would think to blame him, but it was very likely someone would suffer for his carelessness.
He patted the dirt over, scattered nearby leaves and foliage across it. Two years is enough to get good at most things, and soon enough it was hard to tell where exactly he'd buried the deer.
It was a strange feeling, he mused as he put his shirt back on, staring at where he was pretty sure the bones of the fawn lay. He hated having to hide like this, to be alone, to do this in secrecy when, but there was certainly the pleasure in a job well done. Good luck anyone trying to find him out.
After washing himself off as best he was able in the brook, he headed back towards the manor. He just walked across the field this time. He glanced at the sky. Maybe he'd sleep now that the sun was coming up.
Inside the house, he managed to find his way back to Errigal's room in a semi-reasonable amount of time. The warlock was still asleep, good. Baril wasn't up for explaining why he'd been gone all night. He took off his shirt and boots, slipping into bed with a tired sigh.
Baril drifted off into slumber as the sun rose.
I saw Ish's story on Brok, so I figured I'd post something about Bear. Since the only other story I've written since involves him, uhm, torturing someone (I will post it if you want me to), you get this story! Hurrah. ))
Baril laid partly sitting up in a bed, the sleeping form of Errigal resting next to him. He sat there quietly, but clearly wide awake, listening attentively to the warlock's breathing as though afraid it'd stop.
For a while it had.
For a while Errigal had lain dead on the floor, while Baril was powerless to do anything except watch the healers do their work. That and yell at the one who he believed had hurt the warlock. For a while Baril thought he might lose him.
He froze as Errigal rolled over. He didn't move, barely even breathed until the steady, quiet rhythm of the warlock's breathing could be heard again.
Baril relaxed, but only slightly. He didn't want to fall back asleep again. He wasn't up to dealing with the nightmares.
Baril sighed quietly, slipping out of the bed. He needed to clear his head.
He dressed in pants, boots and a loose shirt before slipping out of the room. As he walked along a dark hallway, he remembered something Errigal had said. Stay out of the art gallery. There isn't actually any art in there. Well, what was in there? Probably something either ridiculous or horribly morbid, knowing Errigal.
But he had no idea where the art gallery was and he didn't want to stay in the manor any longer then he could help it. Baril paused outside a door after walking for an uncertain amount of time, not actually sure where he was. He looked around sheepishly to make sure no one was watching before he sniffed the air.
He smelled servants long come and gone, now probably asleep, along with various cleaning products and the pungent scent of lotus. Lotus? He smelled that on Syviel last night. Another sniff confirmed his suspicions. He'd wandered all the way over to Syviel's room.
He'd also caught the scent of that warlock that had tried to hurt Errigal, too, along with a whirl of tangled and confused emotions. Baril shook his head. At least he had an idea of where he was now.
Sure enough, a few minutes later Baril slipped out into the gardens. Not exactly where he wanted to end up, but at least he was outside.
A glorious half moon hung unchallenged in the sky. No clouds to obscure it and the stars dimmed in comparison. He cursed the pale light it shed across the landscape as he walked down a garden path, heading towards the forested area in the distance. d**ned if this place wasn't huge, and if anyone saw him he was sure there'd be talk.
There was probably talk already. A few people had seen Errigal when he first came into the estate, weak and leaning heavily against Baril. Some bodyguard he was, eh?
Despite the position being almost jokingly fabricated by Errigal to wave away his presence at the estate, Baril took it a little more seriously.
He trotted across the field with a smooth gait, wondering if anyone still hunted in this area. Baril couldn't imagine any of the Camilles doing it, though he had a feeling if any of the nearby farmers tried to hunt on this land the price would be a hefty one.
Baril felt himself relax as soon as he ventured under the shelter of the trees. He paused, looking back at the manor silhouetted against the moon.
Not your world, the cynical part of him thought bitterly. You'll always be a southern farm boy, however much you try to hide it.
He turned away and wandered deeper into the forest.
Baril walked without care as to where was going. At least here he was confident he could find his way back.
But he couldn't stop the feeling of guilt that nagged at him, as though he were betraying Errigal in some weird way by acting anything other then human. Well, not like he could do anything about it.
He stopped when he came upon something of a clearing, the sound of a water flowing nearby. He walked over to a large bolder and leaned against it, watching leaves float by in the river. They were all colors, brown, red, yellow. Autumn was fast approaching.
After a few moments he turned away, looking around. The manor couldn't be seen through the thick canopy of trees. He idly wondered how large this forested area was as he took his shirt off, setting it on the stone. Most of the wounds he received fighting the satyr had faced.
He took a few steps into the clearing with bare feet, feeling the leaves and dirt. He made a mental note to wash his feet when he got back in a moment before he grasped the amulet Dhalla had given him.
Baril was still unaccustomed to the fast Change, but he was getting better. It seemed only seconds went by before he was in his other shape, as opposed to long, agonizing minutes.
Baril shook his head, adjusting to the different viewpoint. While in his human shape he had improved senses, it was on an entirely different level as a worgen.
He stood there for a moment, then loped off through the trees...
Several hours later, Baril returned to the clearing in human form, dragging the bones of a small deer carcass behind him. He hadn't really intended to hunt, but it'd been there and he'd been caught off guard and when it started running the worgen had said chase...
Well, there wasn't much he could do except clean up afterwards. Light knew if people started shouting wolf or, this close to Silverpine, worgen...
Baril had lived in relative secrecy with the curse for two years by not being dumb. He knew even the slightest suspicion would probably get fingers pointed at him. If only he'd been around the estate longer...
He growled at the lack of a shovel, but through some creative breaking of bones and remaining sinew, he managed to fit the bones in a rather small hole. Again, he prayed no one hunted.
Hopefully the scent of worgen would be enough to keep any hounds away (though if they were wolfhounds, Baril was in trouble. He'd had more then a few nasty run ins with them and the scars to prove it.) and if they found the carcass no one would think to blame him, but it was very likely someone would suffer for his carelessness.
He patted the dirt over, scattered nearby leaves and foliage across it. Two years is enough to get good at most things, and soon enough it was hard to tell where exactly he'd buried the deer.
It was a strange feeling, he mused as he put his shirt back on, staring at where he was pretty sure the bones of the fawn lay. He hated having to hide like this, to be alone, to do this in secrecy when, but there was certainly the pleasure in a job well done. Good luck anyone trying to find him out.
After washing himself off as best he was able in the brook, he headed back towards the manor. He just walked across the field this time. He glanced at the sky. Maybe he'd sleep now that the sun was coming up.
Inside the house, he managed to find his way back to Errigal's room in a semi-reasonable amount of time. The warlock was still asleep, good. Baril wasn't up for explaining why he'd been gone all night. He took off his shirt and boots, slipping into bed with a tired sigh.
Baril drifted off into slumber as the sun rose.
