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       #Post#: 189113--------------------------------------------------
       Re: A Delicate Forest 
       By: Christopher Moran Date: May 23, 2012, 1:40 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       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
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       ~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
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       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
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       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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