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#Post#: 189113--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Delicate Forest
By: Christopher Moran Date: May 23, 2012, 1:40 pm
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AS Whelan walked he fought with himself, by all rights, it was
his job to either kill Srytka, or bring her to justice. He
couldnt do it though, she was is friend, as much as it had
pained him to treat her like he had, she had been his best
friend. He knew what he should do but, there she was standing in
his mind, far more beautiful than when she had been just a kid.
How he wished he could have held h- No! She is a criminal, an
outlaw, you are a Warden, it is your duty to bring her to
justice. Shaking his head he stopped, memories from his past
flooding through his mind, one came screaming back to him
though, as he sunk to his knees. "You are my friend, Sry. I will
always be there to help you." The boy pipped up cheerfully as he
helped the girl from the ground where she had fallen, and hugged
her. Feeling tears run down his cheeks at the thought he shook
his head. He had made an oath, swore to uphold the Kings laws,
yet he had made a promise long ago to someone very dear to him.
His father had once told him that a man who did not keep his
promises, was not a man worth knowing...
Finally he stood and swallowed, he knew what he had to do, and
he would go forth willing. Spinning on his heel, he started to
jog towards the camp that he knew Srytka would be headed
towards. Grabing his bow, he started to sprint, as he did he
yanked off the mask that covered his face, now only the hood
remained. He would keep his promise to her, no matter the cost
to himself, she was his friend. He would always be there for
her.
Bursting though the bushes, he knocked an arrow and drew back,
pausing breifly in his stride to pick a target and fire. The man
who held the spear, that was about to execute an outlaw, fell to
the side as an arrow buried itself in the back of his skull.
Ducking under a swinging pike, he came up, and holding an arrow
in his hand, stabbed it into that ans neck. Quickly he knocked
and released another arrow striking the third man in the throat,
as he turned, he fired one more arrow, this hit the last man in
the thigh, causing him to drop to the ground. Walking over to
him, Whelan grabbed him by the throat, "You are going to go to
the castle, and inform the Princess, that she has comitted a
great wrong, that she will have to pay for." He growled, thn let
him go, and looked around, searching. Looking for his dear
Srytka.
#Post#: 190213--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Delicate Forest
By: Jackie Date: May 25, 2012, 5:34 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Syrtka could see Lothar sitting there in ropes as he and a
couple of the other men was captured. The fire was blazing where
they were burning the men. She shook her head, seeing them throw
her brother's body into the fire without a proper burial. This
had gone far enough. Cadelle had hurt her enough. She was not
going to let the little girl bring her down. Srytka had gone
through enough of that. It was not her fault that her brother
did some terrible things, but her lover was going to be going
down first. He was the final one who gave the killing shot, and
she was going to get the honor of giving him his last breath and
finally taking the life in revenge for her brother's. Though,
she knew, coming from her mother, she would be tortured for the
rest of her life with knowing how upset her mother would be of
her by taking revenge like this, but it was Hughe they were
fighting over. It was their childhood that had been destroyed
because of this. Srytka was not going to stand by and let
Cadelle walk all over her like she did before when she was
actually living in the kingdom. Cadelle did not deserve her
trust any longer, nor her faith as a good queen.
She would be dead before that happened.
Srytka leaned down at the bushes and watched them before she saw
Whelan bust from the bushes and took care of the men that were
going to harm her own men. She watched him take out the three
men like it was a piece of cake at a tea party that Cadelle
usually went to. She rolled her eyes at the thought and returned
to the scene that was happening before her and she stepped
through the bushes, letting Lothar and Whelan both see them. She
was not sure how Lothar was going to handle someone who was
coming in to fight with them from the inside of the kingdom's
vital force. She looked at Whelan. "Good job." She said
unemotionally before she quickly came to Lothar's side and
untied his hands. "Are you okay? Who else are we missing?" She
said, coughing a little with the rough stench of the burning
bodies right behind her. The wind was blowing toward her,
causing the smoke to be even more devastating and irritating.
As she was helping Lothar, she was going around the bodies that
were not burned yet and she found a couple that were still
breathing, but she would need to do all that she could to keep
them alive while she was around her supplies. The man that
Whelan let go would surely come back with more and more men. Her
eyes did not meet Whelan's. She could not stand to look at him
right now. Heartbreaking, infuriating, and yet victorious
because he had come back with just seeing her. But she was angry
by the words that he said to her cause it cut deep. Real deep,
but she would never let him see her weak. She was far from the
little girl that used to cry in front of him now. She was now
the girl who was going to kick ass and not shed a tear.
#Post#: 192332--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Delicate Forest
By: Drake Date: May 28, 2012, 10:38 pm
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~Three months after the events involving Cade~
Moving through the new camp, Lothar looked out at the new faces,
mostly people from the North, rebels who still resisted the rule
of the O'Connell's, as well as a mismatch of outlaws, and other
criminals. Shaking his head he snorted, he had to hand to
Srytka, she really could motivate people. He had never known
this many people could have such distaste for a single family,
he understood the rebels from the north, and he had his own
reason for wanting to kill the new prince, and the King, but
those were his alone. When a soldier is betrayed and left to
die, it creates a festering wound in their soul, that no amount
of medicine can heal. That was what had happened to Lothar, and
his two brothers, they had been scouts in the King's Army. They
had been on a long range patrol, with two others, when they were
ambushed by rebels in the north.
Lothar's oldest brother went down immediately due to arrow
fire, two arrows from longbows had stabbed right through his
light leather armor and buried themselves in his chest, one
finding its way to his heart. The oldest son of Isabel Deckard
died without even drawing his sword. Lothar, Matthew, and the
other two scouts managed to dismount and rush the group of
rebels, as they did Lothar had made sure that Matthew stayed
next to him. He did not want to lose two brothers in a day, yet
later he would have no choice, unbeknownst to him. AS they
fought, he grabbed the other scout, Luk, and pushed him towards
the horses, "Go get help. NOW!" He shouted, nodding the man,
half sprinted, half slid down the slope. Without any trouble the
man got on his horse, and rode back towards the vanguard, just a
few miles behind the scouts. Turning back to the fight, Lothar
yelped and stumbled against a tree, as he felt a searing pain
stab through his leg. Looking down he saw an arrow buried in his
thigh, grabbing the shaft, he snapped it off and continued
fighting, the scouts had short swords and buckler shields, along
with leather armor. They were no match in a drawn out fight,
they used stealth and speed, they were harassers, not assault
troops. "Lo! Where are our reinforcements, brother!?" He heard
Matt call out, as he fault, the man was like a wildcat, moving
this way and that, never being touched. "They should be here
soon! I think we should start falling back to them however!" He
shouted back, both Matthew and the other remaining scout nodded.
Quickly the three men started back to their horses, running flat
out, and dodging around trees to keep from being hit by arrows.
Hearing a shout, Lothar turned, and saw the third man go down,
as a spear smashed into his shoulder, "No!" Starting to turn
back, he felt Matthew grab him and pull him back on cxourse, "WE
need to go, Lo, there is nothing we can do!" Growling, he
followed his brother, as one of their comrades was cut down
behind them.
As they pulled themselves into their saddles, an arrow struck
Matthews shoulder and he slipped, bgut quickly got back into the
saddle. Driving their heels into the sides of the horses, they
wheeled them around and charged back towards thir own army.
Seeing a group headed towards them, Lothar grinned, "Hail! WE
need your assistance! There are reb-" The words were cut off, as
a crossbow bolt slammed into his cjoulder, knocking him from his
horse. AS his head hit the hard earth, the last thing he
remembered seeing was a bnolt go through Matthew's forehead, and
someone yelling, "NO! Hold your fire, those are ours!" Then
darkness...
The memory put Lothar in a foul mood, and as he strode through
camp, he suddenly found himself in front of the spoit where that
ranger, or warden, or whatever he called himself, had set up a
tent. Staring at the man, who was sitting in the dirt, staring
at the small fire in front of him, Lothar grew pissed. He didnt
care if the man had saved his life, he was the reason thatr
Lothar's cousin, and best friend were dead. "You! What was your
name, Whelan? What do you think you are going to do here?" He
sneered, "You think, after everything you did, that one little
instance is going to make you part of the group! You are still
part off the King's men for all I care!" He growled, "And I kill
the men who fight of his Lordship, King Heath!" With that,
Lothar lunged over the fire, aiming a curled fist at the man's
jaw.
#Post#: 192450--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Delicate Forest
By: Christopher Moran Date: May 29, 2012, 12:24 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Sitting by his fire, on the very edge of the outlaw camp, Whelan
carefully waxed his bowstring as he stared at the flames. He
half hoped Srytka would come and sit and visit with him, but in
the three months since they had been reunited, they saw each
other rarely, and spoke even less. It broke his heart, being so
close, yet still so far away. Every-time he saw her, he wanted
to take her in his arms and hold her, but she just walked by,
hardly even giving a glance in his direction. It hurt, he
couldn't stand it, he had started to wonder if he had made the
right choice.. of course he had, he had promised her, that he
would always help her. Even if that promise had been made, as a
child, with a crush, he meant to deliver on it. Finishing with
the bow he set it aside, and drew his sword, pulling a small
whetstone from the pack next to him, he lid the blade in his lap
and started sharpening it, carefully methodically. The chore
gave him a sort of inner calm in his soul, the simple ease of
it, helping him relax, to clear his head.
When he was down with the sword, he set it aside, and produced a
pair of daggers that he kept hidden in his sleeves, these too he
sharpened, and lightly oiled, then put them aside. Sitting for
awhile he stared at the fire, just letting his thoughts wander..
"Come on Sry! You are going to miss the jousters!" Whelan
called over his shoulder, as the two kids pushed their way to
the front of the crowd, trying to view the knights in their
shining armor, and atop their massive horses. This was the time
of the year Whelan enjoyed most. The faire, there were knights
jousting, and sword fighting, as well as jugglers, and
magicians, and every type of sweets a child could dream of.The
knights though, that was his favorite part, that and the story
tellers. Whelan loved listening to the stories of famous
knights, who battled evil, and saved the maiden fair. The two
kids reached the rail just in time to watch as the knights
clashed, one lance shattered, and the knight fell from his
horse. With a cheer, Whelan pointed and stuck his tongue out at
Srytka, "See, I told you that no one beats the Red Knight! Not
even your little Knight in Blue!" He teased and started
clapping, for his favorite knight, the one in green. As the
knights left, he turned towards Srytka, "Some day, I'm going to
be a Knight, and you can be my Fair Maiden!" He stated, then
giving her a hug he grabbed her hand, "Come on, my da' gave me
some coppers to get some treats, lets go!" He laughed, pulling
her along...
Blinking away a fear tears, Whelan smiled, that had been the
best faire, the Green Knight had won, and he had bet Srytka that
if his knight won, she would have to give Whelan a kiss on the
cheek. But if her knight one, he would do whatever she wanted,
however, he didnt have to worry, cause the Green Knight always
won. Hearing someone walk up, he blinked again, it wasnt Srytka,
no judging by the walk it was that foul Deckard character. The
man rubbed Whelan the wrong way, and it made him want to cut the
guys throat, but he resisted, for Sry.
AS the man shouted and hollered at him, Whelan ignored him, that
was until he attacked him. The man landed a solid punch on
Whelan's jaw as he tackled him. Rolling in the dirt, Whelan
grabbed him and head butted Lothar, giving him enough time, to
jump to his feet. "Back off, Lothar. I saved you once, don't
make me kill you now." Tat only angered the man and he rushed.
Whelan and Lothar, stood there, trading blows, punch for bunch,
kick for kick, for nearly five minutes.
#Post#: 193107--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Delicate Forest
By: Jackie Date: May 30, 2012, 10:09 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Srytka lifted her fingers to dunk into the cold water and
surround the towel that was swimming around in the liquid.
Pulling it out, she squeezed the water from it and let it drip
until it was slightly damp. Holding it in her hands, she walked
over toward one of the men whose fever had broke jsy that
orning. She smiles down at him. "So I have a feeling that you
might be okay." The man, Charles, smiled back up at her. "Well I
am certainly glad for that. Thanks to you, Srytka." He said,
holding her hand for a moment. She nodded in his direction
before pulling her had away and pressing the rag to his
forehead. "I want you to rest now. To keep your stress and
temperature down." He nodded and closed his eyes, falling back
to a sleep not much later. Srytka sighed a little and pulled
away, going and checking other patients before she noticed the
fire was brighter. Lifting her eyes to look at it, she saw
Whelan sitting there, staring into the flames without as much as
a breath escaping his lips.
Her heart ached to go up to him and be able to be the same girl
she was when she was younger. She wanted to go back to the life
she had before the fighting began. Where she had a mother and a
father. Where she had a brother! Now she was left alone, and to
lead the men that she has gathered to fight against the
O'Connells. Though she was surprised that the men even listened
to her. It was not quite the age where women had free roam. With
these men behind her, most looked at her as a monster, a witch
with persuasion. Gulping a little, she turned her head away from
Whelan and began to clean the table off. She needed to make sure
that if a man was getting sick and needed help, she would be
able to help him at a moments notice. A sigh escaped her lips,
and she soon heard a growling noise. Words followed the growl,
but she could not understand. Tilting her head, she began to see
shadows. Ones that she did not appreciate. Setting down the
materials, she was walking to the flap in the tent befre se
heard the growls again ad cursing with a flesh hitting flesh
sound.
She immediately pulled the flap of the tent and saw Lothar on
top of Whelan. Each one of them fought with good blows, but the
sight was ridiculous. Her brows furrowed and she pushed past the
group that was forming. "Hey! Get off!" she shouted, trying to
pull them apart when she knew the men were in a rage. Glancing
back, she called two forward to help her break up the group. Max
and Slate stepped forward, taking the smaller men into their
arms and untangled them from each other. Srytka stepped forward,
between them. "Is this what we are now? A bunch of chaotic
barbarians?!" she heard the curses from both Whelan and Lothar.
Her eyes narrowed as she stepped forward to take a sword from
the nearest men's belt. It was practically bigger than her, but
she held it up, looking between them. "I will not have fighting
between my men." She growled, motioning for Max and Slate to
step toward each other and hold Whelan and Lothar next to each
other. Looking at both of them, she waited a moment, holding up
the blade, letting them look at it before she turned toward the
rest of the men. "Each time I see or hear of a scuffle. I will
not hesitate to dish out some wounds. And to show," She turned
toward Whelan and Lothar. "Max, Slate, hold their arms behind
their back and gentleman, do not move. Or this will cause much
more damage than intended."
When Max and Slate did what they were told to, she took a step
backward before quickly rushing forward and slicing the air
horizontally and with one solid motion, the sword sliced into
both men's cheeks. It was not deep enough to tear into the flesh
where bones were showing, but lightly enough that it was a deep
scratch. The men began to look at her with slight confusion as
she straightened up. "Each time, you are shown up here, you will
be cut in the same spot until you have no jaw to cut from." She
said, glaring toward the men.
#Post#: 196472--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Delicate Forest
By: Drake Date: June 3, 2012, 1:35 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Lothar lashed out furiously, but this Warden seemed to be able
to match him, easily knocking away his punches, though Lothar
did land several solid hits on the bastard. Kicking him hard in
the leg, Lothar saw Whelan stumble, and went to knee him in the
head, but before he could, someone grabbed him and jerked him
back, Lothar swung around and threw a swing at his captors head,
only to have it caught in a large meaty hand, "Fuck you, Max!
The bastard should die!" The mountain just twisted his arm
around and held him in place firmly, "That, 'bastard', saved
your life, you ingrate" Max spat at him, "Fuck you." Was all
Lothar mumbled. Feeling his arm get jerked around viciously
behind his back, Lothar glared over his shoulder.
What the hell was he doing, why wouldn't he just let him fight,
then he saw Srytka and he glared at her. It figured, Hughe's
little sister coming to stop this, "Srytka, this is between him
and I! Let us deal with it!" He shouted, only to get his arm
wrenched on. This was bullshit, he only half listened to her, as
he looked at Whelan from the corner of his eye, that man, he was
going to pay, deeply. Looking back at Sryka, he saw her holding
a sword, "What the hell is she doing.." He breathed out softly,
so no one would hear, then he felt himself moving, and it became
clear, "Srytka! That is bullshite! You are seriously going to do
this to me?" He shouted, he tried to move, but Max took both
his wrists in one hand, and grabbed his hair in the other
keeping his head still.
Lothar tried to break free of the iron grip that head him, "Come
on, Srytka! I've been with you for how long? Yet you are going
to do this!" He continued shouting, Finally he stopped moving,
though he was seething,, becoming incredibly pissed. He got an
idea though, and a slow, wicked smile spread over his face. As
Srytka was swinging the sword, and it cut Whelan's face, he
continued smiling, a look of wickedness in his eyes, just as he
felt the blade bite his skin, he jerked, causing his face to
move, which caused a jagged cut to appear on his face. After
Srytka dropped the sword and he was released, he touched the
wound and looked at the blood on his head, the smile still on
his face. "Yeah... that will be there for awhile..." He muttered
then walked off.
#Post#: 196500--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Delicate Forest
By: Christopher Moran Date: June 3, 2012, 2:03 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Blocking another one of Lothar's strikes, Whelan hit him in the
jaw, only to receive a heavy kick to his left leg. Stumbling
back, he looked up and saw Srytka walking towards them shouting.
About the same time, he felt someone grab him, looking to make
sure it wasn't Lothar, he saw a rather large man, who's name he
recalled as Slate. "Whelan.. don't thi-' Holding up his hand,
Whelan cut him off, "I have no problem with you Slate." Then he
stood there quietly, feeling Slate pat his shoulder, he heard
him say, "I saw what happened, you defended yourself. No fault
there, but Srytka has to make an example, friend." Sighing,
Whelan looked into Srytka's eyes, those beautiful eyes, and
nodded, "I know... I don't have any problem with that.." He
sighed. Locking his eyes on Srytka's he gave her a smile that he
had never shown anyone since there childhood. It was the same
trouble makers, 'I screwed up.' smile he had given her after she
had brokjen up a fight he had gotten into when they were kids.
now however, he new it wouldn't do him any good, but he couldn't
help it.
Lstening to her, he continued staring her in the eyes, he heard
her and he agreed, yet he couldn't help but feel slightly angry.
He had defended himself, yet he too was going to be punished, he
understood her reason, but damnit, why couldn't she just punishj
the offender! Sighing again, he stood straight, waiting. He saw
her pick up the sword, he could hear Lothar cursing and carrying
on, but still he stared into her eyes, his emerald green eyes,
holding no emotion, except a sad longing. Even in all of this,
he wished he could just hold her. Finally the sword swung, he
closed his eyes breifly, and felt a sight tear, and then warm
blood run down his cheek. Opening his eyes, he watched Srytka
drop the sword.
As Whelan was released, he touched his cheek, then simply walked
over to his things, grabbed his cloack, his bow, and his arrows
and loked at Slate. "If anyone asks... I went hunting." He
stated, Slate nodded, his eyes flicking to Srytka, then to
Whelan, but he let the lithe archer go anyways. Walking off,
Whelan stopped at the trees, and looked back at Srytka, maybe,
just maybe... giving a slight jerk of his head, a motion that
stated he wante her to follow, he turned and dissappeared int
othe forest.
#Post#: 196894--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Delicate Forest
By: Jackie Date: June 3, 2012, 12:03 pm
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Srytka looked back at Lothar and Whelan as they were pulled up
for their punishment. She could hear Lothar drowning on and she
could feel her patience being tried. She slowly shook her head.
"Oh, hell no, Lothar. You better shut the fuck up before I do
more to you." She hissed and pointed the sword at him, holding
it stealthily in her fingers to make sure that the blade did not
shake because of her anger. "You are the one who started this. I
saw your body come onto his. You are going to pay for your
actions." She said, knowing that this man was upset with her.
The rest of the men stared at her as she knew that not many
would respect her, but fear her with the sword in her hand and
with people on her side. They knew not to come near her or get
on her bad side. though when shew as turning her attention to
Whelan she saw the look that he had always given her when he got
into trouble with her, or even a small worthless fight, that
meant nothing now. She knew that smile, and right now she hated
it. She was fighting the urge to smile, but she knew that she
shouldn't. She couldn't look like she was enjoying this, because
for sure she wasn't.
She immediately turned her attention from him, looking back at
Lothar, seeing and feeling the fire being thrown at her through
his eyes. She was not going to smile, and she was not going to
give in to his looks. His words still cut deep and she was going
to prove that was who she was now. If he called her that, then
it was going to be like that. Shaking her head, she sliced her
head, and after telling Lothar not to move, he did and a piece
of his skin was cut from his cheek. She glared at him and shook
her head. "Now, you see gentleman. When I tell you don't move.
Do not move." She said. Running the sword across the ground, the
men were released and she could hear Lothar's words. She hid
back a growl and handed the sword back to the man that she took
it from and turned her back to the crowd, walking back to her
tent, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see Whelan
walking toward the edge of the camp. "Hunting?" She said quietly
to herself before she stepped forward and into her tent.
there was a group of men around a single bed and she began to
slow when she realized whose bed they were standing around.
Charles. She quickly came closer to the bed, pushing past the
men where she looked down at Charles. His eyes were closed and
it looked like he was sleeping, but from the looks on the men,
he wasn't sleeping at all. She touched her forehead and turned,
feeling the tears come to her eyes. She had helped the man
personally and he had died on her hands. She could have
prevented this. She could have. The men looked at her.
"Srytka--" She shook her head. "Leave." They nodded, quieting
now as they left the tent. She had her back turned to them and
she already had tears running down her face when they left.
Turning back to Charles, she shook her head and fell to her
knees. The pain in her chest deepened as she cradled the cold
and stiff hand in her own. "I could have prevented this." She
said quietly, letting her head fall against the bed. This was
her breaking point. She felt the stress finally overwhelm her
and the tears flow faster down her cheeks and make a slight
puddle at the bottom of the bed.
Wiping her eyes, she composed herself before she took the sheet
and covered his body with it, making sure that she couldn't see
that face anymore...
#Post#: 200238--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Delicate Forest
By: Christopher Moran Date: June 7, 2012, 12:23 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
After he had left, Whelan found himself in a small clearing and
stood there, finding an old rotten, partial tree trunck, he
lifted his bow and knocked an arrow, drawing back he fired, the
sound of the thunk, as the arrow sunk into the rotted pine, was
the only sound, as he fired arrow after arrow. He was blowing
off steam, but even as he did this tears rolled down his cheek.
She had changed, she wasn't the girl he had once had a crush on,
but still, he couldn't help but be attracted to her. She was so
beautiful now, but recent events had sealed away the Srytka away
from him, and he was scared that he was going to lose her
completely now. After he had emptied the quiver on his back, he
walked over and collected his arrows, then went back to his
origanal posistion, he repeated the process many ties, as he
though about Srytka, finally he collected his arrows, slung his
bow over his shoulder, and wiped his eyes. He was going to go
talk to her, he was going to tell her what he thought, honestly,
he had spoken in anger and frustration when he called her a
killer, he hadn't meant it, but he had never apologized to her,
either.
Walking back into the camp, Whelan walked towards Srytka's tent,
and saw a group of men walking out, "What happened?" He asked,
as one of the men passed Whelan, he shook his head, "I wouldn't
go in there archer." He stated simply. Whelan stood outside the
tent quietly, waiting for her to leave, he heard her say
something, but it was to soft, and muffled for him to hear.
Finally when he couldn't stand outside anymore, he queitly
slipped into her tent, seeing her at the end of a bed with a
body, he had to think about the mans name, Charles, that was it.
Whelan frowned, he had helped tend to the sick, bearlier before
Srytka had came in after he had left, the man seemed as though
he was getting better.
After Srytka had covered the body, he walked up behind her,
silent as ever, touching her arm softly, as he stepped next to
her he stared at the sheet covered body, "I am sorry Srytka.. I
was here early, he looked like he was getting better..." He
whispered, staring down at the body. Now that this had happened,
he knew he had to tell her what he felt. Turning towards her, he
reached up and gently wiped some tears from her face. "Sry, I am
sorry for calling you a killer... I didn't mean it..." looking
into her eyes, he felt his start to water slightly again, "I was
frustrated... and angry.. and confused..."
Blinking he felt a tear run down his cheek, why was it so hard
to talk to her. He wondered but inside deep down he knew the
truth, because you are still that little boy that had lost his
best friend. Looking at Srytka he opened his mouth, then
stopped, and then tried again, "Srytka... you... I..." He
couldn't think of anything to say, so finlly he just smiled and
shook his head as he cried, "You are my friend, Sry. I will
always be there to help you..." He stated, softly, looking at
her with a look of, hope and fear, and love, and confusion,
filling his emerald eyes.
#Post#: 200243--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Delicate Forest
By: Jackie Date: June 7, 2012, 12:44 pm
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Srytka stood in front of what used to be a body full of life. He
was the one that cheered up everyone else in that tent that she
cared for. Now, because of her, she had lost him. She shook her
head, and stood covering up the face of the man that she
couldn't look at anymore. Looking ahead, she stared ahead until
she heard the movement of the tent fabric door. She glanced
backwards, knowing those steps anywhere. "You cannot hide from
me." She said, turning her head when he came in to touch her
shoulder and explain that he was in there earlier and thought he
was getting better. She pulled away right before his hand was
able to touch her shoulder. Stepping away, she walked around the
other side of the body looking at Whelan full frontal now. Her
eyes met his and she just stared, unemotionally. He had been
crying. She could see the tear stains still around his eyes like
he had wiped them off before he entered the tent. She could see
it coming. He used her childhood nickname and she held up his
hand, stopping him from speaking the rest. She didn't want to
hear it. This was the reason why she didn't like crying in front
of people. They began to say things to make her feel better.
Sometimes they would share the tears with her, but this man in
front of her was not going to. She could already see the tears
running down his face and she let her hand fall and she shook
her head. "Stop, Whelan." She said quietly. "Just stop." She
said, looking at him, no longer crying. Her eyes were hard.
"Better wipe your tears." She said. "Men!" She called, looking
at the front of the tent. Two men walked in and she nodded her
her head toward the body underneath the sheet and they soon came
in wrapping the sheets around the body and took him out the back
way. She watched them and pulled her hands behind her back until
they were gone. Her heart had many bars, locks, and barbed wires
to protect it. She was not ready to let it open just yet. She
might have felt something, but she was not going to let her
heart just fall for it. Not with the history and her
vulnerability now. She was still hurting from the loss of her
brother, and with his words still cutting into her though he was
speaking out of anger, she does not forget. Srytka could not
afford to forget anything. It would kill her if she did.
Looking at him, she stared at him. "Do not move." She said
quietly, as if she was eyeing something behind him. Her heart
was jumping as she moved closer with quick and clever feet. When
she was standing in front of him, she acted as if she was
reaching for something before she cupped the back of his neck
and brought his lips to hers in a manner that made herself lose
the breath that she was taking in. Her free hand touched his
chest as she leaned into him for a moment, letting the kiss
continue. The kiss proved that she was indeed vulnerable, but
only he could see it. No one else.
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