Forlorn world [open]

[Cryto }]

O, spiteful fallow,
injured by a deep black sword,
lurks forgotten; lost.


BENEVOLENCE ---

Waiting, watching, writing... The three W's, as his brother had told him a few months ago. Wait for whatever it was you wanted, watch it, and then write down observations. Or, as his brother had also put it, just go right in and take it. Cryto didn't have the courage, or the heart, to just go in and take something from someone, however, so he practiced the three W's often. Right now, he was practicing it, but there was nothing he wanted. Instead, he was just watching the day pass by without much thought, writing down a map and things he needed to see in case he and his brother got lost in the swamp. And all the while he was slapping at the bugs as they swarmed angrily around his head, nibbling at his warm skin as they searched for a good food source. As they swarmed, the buzzing slowly began to irritate him, and by the end of that hour, he could take no more. He closed the attached parchment, stuffing it in a bag that he had taken with him to hold all of his materials, and ran off.

As he slipped deeper in to the swamp, he calmed slightly, looking around at the thick growth of trees and mushy ground, and strange insects that floated through the humid air. He obviously wasn't used to this marshy ground, for he stumbled often and grabbed for branches for support. Cryto looked around, brown eyes still holding that youthful, gentle warmth, and the wanderer carried on, trying his best to be as calm and sturdy as possible. But his small size was taking it's toll, and the ground beneath him washed up high around his ankles as he repeatedly sunk down. He had a portion of his brother's stubbornness, though, and he kept walking along, almost indifferently. He had heard from many stories the dangers of the swamplands, but they hadn't stopped him from coming. He had a bit more belief in the humanity of the world than the world had in itself, though, and he thought that he could just walk right through, without being harmed because he was a doctor.

Ignorance always has a consequence.

[Neravarine]

A shadow moved through the swamp land, completely silent and almost invisible as it lurked through the shadows. The only thing that was present was the glow of lime green eyes as they scanned the mist filled swamp and it's surroundings... The figure's glowing eyes looked intense... Almost as if looking for something... A curious bug kept buzzing around his ear though, and the figure smacked it away, annoyance present in it's lime green eyes.

It then tilted it's head... hearing something out of place in the swamp's normal atmosphere... The figure then crouched low... following the sound... Wading quietly through mossy pools and crouching near dense foliage, occasionally stopping to ensure the one making the sound hadn't heard the figure stalking him...

For several minutes, the figure got closer to the rather loud Cryto as he made his way through the swamp... Then seeing an opportunity, quietly dove into a nearby pool of stagnant water... ignoring the harsh smell as he swam underwater to intercept Cryto... Slowly, the figure swam out near the dirt clearing to intercept the healer, climbing gracefully up a lichen ridden tree, lime green eyes peering through the darkness of the leafy branches... Waiting for Cryto to pass under him...

When Cryto neared, a small, relieved smile appeared on the figure's lips as he purred silently, "Finally... Rasheer has found you..." Slipping a clawed hand into his pocket, the figure drew out a throwing dagger, it's point gleaming wickedly in the darkness... The figure was extremely skilled with long range executions... Once the man he had been hunting in these swamps for 3 days passed under him, the figure would be able to end it once and for all with a single throw.

However... The figure's eyes widened in disbelief and shock when it watched not the man he was hunting for... But rather, someone else entirely coming into the clearing... A simple looking man mucking through the swamp. The figure narrowed his lime green eyes as the man continued to travel, passing under his tree that was supposed to be an ambush point for someone else. When Cryto passed by, the figure descended, a small plop heard as padded feet hit the ground. "Who are you?... And what are you doing here? There is danger present..." Hissed a voice... The figure, standing there, was a young, male khajiit... One of the beast races, the cat folk.

He had a well toned body, although mainly lean muscle, which was obvious since he wore nothing but pants and a small pack that contained his throwing stars and daggers. Rasheer's lime green eyes glowed with annoyance and suspicion, his ears flat against his head, and his sharp teeth bared to show his obvious anger. His furry body was coated with thick mud, so that his original fur color was almost impossible to tell... To keep the insects off as well as to provide camouflage. Claws flexed out of his pawed feet into the muddy ground in nervousness, and a clawed hand always rested near his bag of weapons. A long, muddy tail lashed back and forth as Rasheer studied the man, but his ears were pricked and alert now.

[Cryto }]

The man turned, startled and frightened as he heard a voice behind him. He hadn't seen anything around when he had walked in, but obviously he must have walked right past it.. Or under it. The voice didn't sound human, or, as human as he was used to, because it had this strange, coldly high pitched tint to it. He was surprised at what he saw, though, not surprised that it wasn't human, but just surprised at it's appearance, more than anything. His eyes were wide, for he had never seen a Khajit, as he had read, and obviously, he was less than prepared to meet one on such short notice. What told him of the creature's race was the fact that it had fur, black fur, and a tail, and the purest green eyes he had ever seen. And in his opinion, it was very beautiful. Much like a cat, for he had seen just simple animals, non beast creatures such as these, and he knew just how beautiful the feline world was, but that still hadn't prepared him for what he had seen. Although he knew what it was, he was still nervous and more scared of its presence than anything.

He backed away instantly, recoiling from the creature as though it were about to strike him, which it may still do, and felt his shoulder brush against the side of a tree.


"Ugh.. Danger? Besides the predators and outlaws, and other-"

he stopped himself from saying things, in case the Khajit before him would take it offensively. He was shaking; couldn't help that. He was too soft for this world, and as his brother always said, he was born in the wrong time period. He found himself unable to hold that bright green gaze, and he looked down, into the brown, murky depths of sludge and filth. He looked up again, because he wasn't finished asking questions yet.

"W-who are you?"

He stammered again, and in his mind, cursed himself for being so clumsy. He wished he was more like a Breton, outgoing and exciting, with no fear for anything because they had so much self-esteem and confidence. Instead, all he had was compassion and caring and gentle love. That wouldn't help him much in the long run.

[Neravarine]

"Yes... Especially outlaws..." The khajiit hissed vehemently as he neared the breton, studying him cautiously. He spoke in a raspy, soft voice thick with an accent, rolling his verbs and carefully pronouncing his vowels. "Your better off not knowing my name... The better question is why are you here? This one's answer should be that your not staying... You go... Go far away from here before khajiit has to deal with your unwanted corpse."

As he said this, the male khajiit paused and gazed around the area silently, ears pricked for the slightest noise... He acted like he wanted to be rid of Cryto as soon as possible.