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       #Post#: 200292--------------------------------------------------
       Re: A Delicate Forest 
       By: Christopher Moran Date: June 7, 2012, 1:59 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Standing still, he watched Srytka move around the other side of
       Charles's body, as he started to speak. When he tried to tell
       her he was sorry, she told him to stop. He looked at her
       confused, had she given up on him, he wondered. When she told
       him to wipe his eyes, he simply stared at the ground, as if in
       respect when the men came in and removed Charles's body. This
       made no sense, he wanted to apologize, to let her know what he
       really felt, to tell her he would always be there for her, no
       matter the problem. Yet how could he if she kept, forcing him to
       be silent. Closing his eyes, he inhaled and then opened them
       again, " Listen, Sry." He started but again she told him to be
       silent.
       Whelan was becoming increasingly frustrated at Srytka, 'Just let
       me speak!' he wanted to shout at her, but he didn't want to
       anger her, not now. When she told him not to move, he froze,
       there was something in her eyes, something that made him obey,
       he ad no idea what was behind him, so he just stood, his hands
       at his side. Watching her step closer, still staring past him,
       he swallowed, and closed his eyes. his mind was racing with
       possibilities, was it a snake, or something, or what. Shit, he
       hated the fact he hadn't been paying attentionn to his
       surrounding.
       As he waited for her to tell him okay, he suddenly felt a hand
       on his neck, and was pulled forward, feeling lips press to his
       own, he opened his eyes and saw Srytka's face, so close to his
       own. He felt every muscle in his body relax, is thoughts of her
       hating him fading. When she touched his chest, he put his hands
       on her waist, now he again felt tears on his cheek, but these
       were ones of joy. Pulling her close he pulled his hood back, and
       kissed her deeper, his tongue sliding against hers. Ever since
       she had left, he had always thought about her, about what had
       happened, if he would ever get to hold her in a hug, if he would
       ever get to receive a kiss on his cheek from her again. Pulling
       away, just enough so he could talk, but that his lips were still
       almost touching hers, he smiled and whisperd, "I was going to
       say,You are my friend, Sry. I will always be there to help you,
       but I like your idea more..." Smiling again he kissd her, his
       left hand snaking between themm to hold her hand, while his
       right kept her pulled to him.
       #Post#: 201553--------------------------------------------------
       Re: A Delicate Forest 
       By: Srytka Date: June 10, 2012, 1:21 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Srytka looked at him as she had silenced him for the fourth time
       within the two times they had spoken to each other after he had
       called her a cold blooded killer. Her eyes looked into his,
       seeing the frustration that was building. It would be better for
       her next step in her plan. She needed this. To seal the deal
       that he would not leave her for the king's men. She needed that
       security to be able to be sane within the camp. Her eyes
       searched behind him and she saw him freeze when she told him not
       to move. He obeyed quite nicely. A small smile pulled at her
       lips inwardly, making sure that he could not see the smile
       before she moved in and pressed her lips against his. Her
       fingers tightened around his neck as his arms immediately
       wrapped around her. Her eyes fell closed as the kiss continued,
       letting her raw desire overwhelm him. She had not kissed a man
       in a while, years maybe, but God this was the feeling that she
       loved. She pressed her lips harder against his until he was
       already pulling back to look at her, snaking his hand up between
       them to hold the hand that was resting on his chest.
       She glanced down at it, wanting to feel his lips against hers
       once more but he stated his claim that he had been wanting to
       say during that moments of her quieting him. She blushed a
       little, but hid it quickly as she nodded her head. "This idea.."
       She began before his lips pressed against hers again, softly
       this time. She was not used to this. She wanted the angry kiss
       he held before. The soft kiss held something within it, but she
       couldn't. She wouldn't fall. No, this was for her plan in order
       to run over the king and certainly Cadelle. Her eyes opened and
       she stealthily pulled away from his hands and stepped against
       the table, looking to the side. "My desires got the best of me."
       She whispered in admittance. She blushed lightly before running
       her fingers through her hair, anything to keep him from touching
       her. She wasn't going to let that slow kiss get the best of her,
       though her lips ached to feel it yet again. She wanted hatred.
       That was she was bred with, but now, she was with soft and slow,
       as if she was weak and passionate. No, she needed strong and
       demanding...She looked outside.
       "Do not speak a word about this to anyone. If you do, your head
       will be on my future mantel." She said harshly before she
       slipped past him, slipping on her arrows and bow over her
       shoulder before she exited the tent, leaving the camp after
       telling the men to watch out for other intruders. She was going
       to go on a scout real quick before dinner time. She slipped
       within the bushes without much as a glance backwards to see if
       anyone was following her. She hoped that there wasn't. She
       needed to think. She needed to map out her plan, to make it rock
       hard steel compared to how she was feeling back there. She was
       wishy washy instead of her usually calm and rational ways. No,
       this was different. She needed to step out of it. To be able to
       walk right through this. She needed to make sure that there was
       no strings attached to her heart on any of this. Any. Of. This.
       #Post#: 202976--------------------------------------------------
       Re: A Delicate Forest 
       By: Christopher Moran Date: June 12, 2012, 9:59 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Srytka's sudden actions and harsh warning before she left, put
       Whelan into a confused state momentarily. Why had she acted that
       way, he had seen the look in her eyes and the light blush, even
       as much as she hid it, they had both enjoyed the moment of
       shared emotions that had passed between them, yet Srytka refused
       to acknowledge it. Remaining in the tent, he sat in her chair
       hand rested his elbows on his knees, then his head on his hands.
       It was with a painful realization the Whelan knew what was
       wrong. She was scared of being loved, by anyone other than
       herself, even if it was Whelan. With a groan of frustration he
       felt as far away from her as ever, he wanted to fight next to
       her, to help her right the wring that was done, but she wouldn't
       let him close enough to, allow him to help her emotions. He had
       to convince her of his loyalty to her, he thought he had when he
       killed those men that were going to execute hers, apparently not
       though.
       He was sitting here contemplating that thought, when a man burst
       into the tent, "Srytka, we cap-" Seeing Whelan sittig alone, he
       looked around, "Where is Srytka, woodsman?" He asked, Whelan
       simply shrugged and looked up, "She is out..." suddenly gettiung
       an idea he stood, "She left me in charge while she is gone. What
       is the problem?" The man seemed to hesitate at this then nodding
       slowly he indicated to follow him, so Whelan did. "We captured a
       patrol of the King's foot soldiers." He explained, "They fought
       hard but when they realized that they were out numbered they
       surrendered." Smiling to himself, the man looked at Whelan as if
       he had just completed some extrodinary feat. Which for this
       untrained rabble, it very well could have been.
       Stopping in front of the prisoners, Whelan looked them over and
       frowned, it looked as though they had been beat after being
       captured, "Alright, see to their words, them tie them up." He
       stated, "I want them to be able to talk when Srytka returns."
       With that he turned, then stopped, "If I find out any of them
       are harmed before the... I will take the head of the man who did
       it and use it for archery practice." With that Whelan walked
       away, movie back to his camp, and his fire. Sitting quietly he
       started to think about the kisses him and Srytka had shared,
       unconsciously he touched hisd lips and smiled. He may have to
       keep it a secret from the others, but he would deffinitely try
       again with her. He had never experienced something of sweet, so
       pleasant.
       #Post#: 203129--------------------------------------------------
       Re: A Delicate Forest 
       By: Srytka Date: June 12, 2012, 3:04 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Srytka had to leave. She needed to. The kiss was too much for
       her to handle at a moment like this. She shook her head, running
       her fingers through her hair before she finally entered the
       forest and she was alone, fully alone. She lifted her eyes to
       the spots where her usual men would be, she saw them empty. She
       soon felt her chest bubble before she folded over. She wrapped
       her arms around her knees and rested her face in between them.
       She was not sure of what to do. She wanted to scream, to break
       things around her, she wanted to throw the whole storm around
       her, but she couldn't. She would not be able to. She wanted to
       throw over the king with a single flick of her hand, but she
       couldn't do that. Shaking her head, she ran her fingers through
       her hair before covering her face. She fell to her rear and let
       the tears fall as she convulsed with the amount of tears leaving
       her eyes. Hiccuped sobs escaped her lips as she held herself
       together tighter before she was slowly melting. The forest
       around her was quiet next to her sobs before she finally heard a
       shout. It was an abnormal shout.
       She wiped her tears and stood, taking in a breath and trying to
       compose herself before she took her bow and ran to the sound. It
       was not there. She kept running, but then she soon saw the
       weapons. They were dropped instead of confiscated. Why were they
       not taken. She shook her head, and began getting them before she
       noticed the sound again. It was a different. Ignoring it, she
       picked up teh weapons and began walking back to the camp. Her
       eyes were red and puffy and she tried to make sure they were
       dried and normal looking by the time she reached camp. They were
       almost to flesh color when she reached camp and she saw the
       prisoner tent with men around it. Did they capture people? Of
       course they did. Her eyes narrowed as she yelled. "I told you!
       Never leave behind evidence that you took in prisoners!" She
       looked at the men who immediately came and took the weapons from
       her. She nodded her head. The immediate head right man came to
       her side looking at her. "Sir Whelan, the woodsman told me to
       get them tied up in your absence." He said turning his head to
       look at the prisoner tent.
       "Tell him my thanks. I need to speak to them." She walked toward
       the tent and he stopped her looking at her. "You might want to
       take someone in there with you. They are very vicious. Srytka
       laughed. "And I'm not?" She asked before she walked toward the
       crowd. Her hands quickly received a sword and she was growled
       at. "Oh quiet your stomach Milt. It is inappropriate." She said,
       and the men chuckled a little bit before Milt who was standing
       there blushing. He shrugged his shoulders and Srytka continued
       on her way until she was stepping into the tent. She came into
       the last part of the tying process. "Leave." She said once they
       were done, leaving her with four of the men. Holding the sword
       out, she held it horizontally in her hands. "Okay. You either
       tell me what is going to happen with the King's army in the next
       few moments, or I will start slicing body parts." The men gulped
       a little at her before chuckling a little. "You really think
       that we are going to listen to a woman?" One man said looking at
       her with a smirk. Srytka's anger bubbled with the comment.
       "Strike one." She said calmly before she slowly stepped over
       toward him and expertly swung the sword to make a cut into his
       cheek, a deep cut, that blood immediately dripped from before
       she glanced at the rest of the men. "Since your friend here
       began to talk back to me. Every single one of you get the same
       punishment...." She said, before her sword began slicing until
       she was finished...
       #Post#: 203226--------------------------------------------------
       Re: A Delicate Forest 
       By: Christopher Moran Date: June 12, 2012, 6:15 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Leaning against the tree that was next to his tent, Whelan
       closed his eyes and dozed, his dreams were hazy half memories,
       muffled voices, and unseen faces. The dreams seemed happy for
       the most part, but there was something there, a coldness, that
       he had not felt before. Soon the dreams turned towards darker
       ones, and he was tossing and turning, all he saw was death and
       pain, he even saw his fathers death, which he had been no where
       around. Opening his eyes with a start, Whelan looked around,
       breathing heavily, as his eyes adjusted he saw Srytka across the
       camp, and he smiled. Her flame red hair was recognizable
       anywhere, watching her he bit his lip thinking of what had
       happened between them earlier. Watching her grab a sword and
       step into a tent, he got up and walked over, picking up the pair
       of daggers he had sharpened earlier, and slipping them into the
       sheaths on his wrists.
       When Whelan got to the tent, he was blocked by a short skinny
       man, "Uh... Srytka isn't to be bothered... uh... sorry." Setting
       his hand on the guards shoulder, Whelan raised an eyebrow,
       "Ah... I see... but I highly doubt you are going to stop me." He
       said simply, setting his hands on his belt where his weapons
       hung. The little man swallowed and stepped aside, leaving Whelan
       to walk into the tent. When he stepped through the flap, a
       stream of blood spattered his face, and he whipped it away. What
       he saw made him clench his jaw. One of the prisoners was laying
       on the ground, his cheek nearly cut through completely. The
       otheres had smaller cuts on each side of there face. Looking at
       Srytka, he swallowed, this might get him killed but. Stepping
       foreward, he caught her wrist, and puled her away.
       Pulling her into the small tunnel that was the tent entrance, he
       yanked the sword from her fingers, and stared at her. "Sry, if
       you are going to get answers, you need them to be able to talk.
       You can take fingers, and get them to talk, you cut their faces
       to deep, they can't talk." Looking down into her eyes, he kissed
       her hard, then walked past her, leaving her to stand in the long
       entryway. Walking back into the part of the tent that had the
       bloody prisoners, Whelan dropped the sword on the ground and
       eyed the four men. Shaking his head, he walked over to the small
       table that was there, and drew a dagger from his belt testing
       the edge he set it down and sighed.
       "You, fools really shouldn't angry her, as she is the one that
       leads us. She is also rather short tempered, and has a very,
       strong will to punish..." Walking over to a jug of water he took
       a drink, and crouched in front of the men, staring into their
       eyes one by one. Setting the jug down, he grabbed a heavy set
       man, with a thin brown beard, and balding head. Forcing him to
       knee next to the table, Whelan tied the mans hand down to the
       table top, and picked up the dagger. Looking at the man he
       sighed, "This is what is going to happen, she will ask a
       question... If she does not like the answer, or thinks you are
       lying, you lose a finger. Questions?" Whelan's voice was hard,
       even though his stomach churned at the thought of what he was
       going to do. "Fuck you, traitor." The man growked, and spit in
       Whelan's face. Glaring at the soldiers Whelan shook his head,
       "Wrong, answer." With that the blade came down,and sliced
       between the knuckle. Just as it bit all the way through,  Srytka
       returned, and Whelan looked up, as the man screamed, and cursed
       at him. Slapping the man hard, Whelan raised an eyebrow. "She
       will ask, you answer, if she does not like it, or it is a lie.
       You lose another finger." Stepping back,Whelan looked at Sry,
       and motioned for her to proceed.
       #Post#: 203330--------------------------------------------------
       Re: A Delicate Forest 
       By: Srytka Date: June 12, 2012, 10:09 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Srytka looked at the men tied up before her. They were not
       cooperating and she knew if they were not going to, then they
       would need to be punished. As her sword went through the last
       man's cheek, she was interrupted. She could hear the men telling
       someone else that they could not come in. And soon, she felt the
       presence behind her. The men that she had just sliced into were
       now looking behind her. Srytka growled before she was pulled
       into the hallway. She pushed him away. Whelan. Of course it was
       him. Her cheeks filled with blood as the anger filled her veins,
       taking up all of the space. No one interrupted her when she was
       talking to prisoners. Not even the great Whelan Reinhardt. She
       shook her head, not even listening to what he was saying. Her
       eyes found his and when he moved in to kiss her, she pushed him
       away, not letting him even try to get close to her. She was
       pissed and he moved in to talk with the men. Oh. You don't do
       that. Not with Srytka.
       Srytka picked up the sword, her mouth slightly held open. Her
       teeth clenched and she shook her head. The men sitting in there,
       would not respect her now. She was pulled out and she was
       embarrassed. She didn't even hesitate. She left the tent, pissed
       off now. Her eyes set on the two men that held Lothar and Whelan
       when they were being punished. He had gone too far. You do not
       embarrass Srytka Essence. You do not take her from the prisoners
       when she is speaking to them. "Max! Slater!" She called. They
       were immediately by her side within seconds before she pointed
       toward the tent. "Bring the prisoners out here in front of the
       fire. Tie up Whelan as well." She said with not even a single
       glance back. Whelan was going to know the boundaries around
       here, and they were not going to be pushed again. She let Max
       and Slater bring out the prisoners. One by one, and including
       Whelan, knowing that he would be fighting them. She could
       already hear the scuffle inside of the tent once all of the
       prisoners were out. She walked into the tent, seeing Whelan
       fight against Max and SLater together. She shook her head. "Do
       not fight Whelan. You brought this upon yourself the moment you
       interrupted me." She said, looking at him with her eyes
       narrowed.
       She turned and walked out with Max and Slater holding Whelan
       before tying him up outside. Some of the prisoners began to
       laugh at the man. "And this is what you get! Traitor!" A few
       chimed in before the men surrounded the prisoners and they shut
       up for the time being. Srytka walked out, letting them all be
       tied up in front of her. She looked at the prisoners before
       looking at her own men. "There are punishments for those who do
       not talk." Her eyes narrowed toward the prisoners before she
       glanced at Whelan. "And for those who like to go against me and
       interrupt me." She looked over at one of the men, holding out
       her hand. They immediately reached for their sword, tossing it
       to her. It was one of the bigger ones, but she caught it
       effortlessly. Taking hold of it. "Men, my men, take this as a
       warning. Do not interrupt me." Then she glanced at the men who
       were prisoners. "Now say all you want in front of my men." She
       said, tilting her head a little bit. Immediately one of the
       prisoners spoke up. The smaller one. "The king's men are
       preparing. They are going to take you all out! In revenge of
       taking the Princess!"
       Srytka laughed as well as some of the other men. WHen she
       quieted, so did the whole camp. "Do you know that every single
       one of us were once apart of that kingdom?" Her eyes narrowed
       toward that little man. She stepped closer, holding her sword up
       against his neck. "Your little Princess is the one who put us
       out. Put us out for not being what she wanted. The king allowed
       it! There is no truth coming from those rich lips! I mean look
       at you. They left you here and there are no others come to save
       you." She growled, putting it a little closer. "Now you tell me
       what you are standing for now." She said. The man actually was
       brave. He looked straight at Srytka in the eyes. "My king got
       rid of the weak." Srytka stood frozen for a moment before she
       stepped back. Taking both of her hands onto the handle, she took
       her stance as well and with one single precise slice, the head
       of the man was rolling across the ground.
       "Does anyone else want to mock me and my men!?" She screamed.
       #Post#: 203595--------------------------------------------------
       Re: A Delicate Forest 
       By: Christopher Moran Date: June 13, 2012, 9:49 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Hearing Srytka call for her two mountains, Whelan looked up,
       realizing she was not there. When Max and Slater walked in he
       shook his head, "Boys.... I don't want to hurt you, but you lay
       a hand on me I will go down swinging." He stated, his voice did
       not hold any anger, or pride, just honest fact. He had just
       tried to help the woman he had adored since childhood, and this
       is what was going to happen? As the four prisoners were led out
       by Slater, Max stood there staring at Whelan, "Whelan, just come
       with us." Shaking his head Whelan stood his ground, as Slater
       walked back in. "No...  I did nothing wrong, I kept her from
       killing them, so they could talk." Whelan stated, harshly, as he
       squared off with the two hulking men.
       Whelan was not that large of a man, he was only about 5'11" and
       weighed just about 190 pounds, these two men easily made him
       look like he was sick and frail. However he was a trained
       fighter, and he knew that he could hold his own, against these
       two, Max reached out to grab Whelans shoulder, and Whelan
       stepped in, driving his fist into the mans forehead, and kneeing
       him in the gut. AS Max stumbled back, Whelan stepped back, "I
       told you guys. Don't make me do this." He tried to plead, but
       Slater came closer, shaking his head, Whelan got ready for
       another fight. Slater swung on massive fist, and Whelan jumped
       back, and ducked as another fist came in. Throwing several
       punches at Slater, he hit the ma in the eye, then Whelan heard
       Srytka and he froze, not seeing the fist Max had launched.
       Looking at Srytka, he heard her voice,  the voice that could
       make him stop in his tracks, she said he had caused this to
       happen. "Srytka... you were going to-" the words became an
       incomprehensible grunt as Max's hand smashed into the said of
       his head. Stumbling Whelan would have went down if Slater hadn't
       caught him. Groaning, dazed from the blow he tried to push
       himself to his feet, bujt he felt himself being dragged towards
       the door. Managing to compose himself, he put his feet under
       himself, and shrugged off the hands of Max and Slater, "If I'm
       going out there, it is on my feet." The men nodded, and Whelan
       walked out, Standing a few feet from the prisoners, Whelan
       touched the side of his and winced there was a massive welt
       forming, and it hurt.
       Looking up at Srytka, he watched her, then he felt the warm
       blood spray across his face, as she beheaded one of the
       soldiers. Closing his eyes to hide the look of sorrow, and love
       he knew he would give Srytka if she looked at him, he opened
       them again, and waited.
       #Post#: 203601--------------------------------------------------
       Re: A Delicate Forest 
       By: Srytka Date: June 13, 2012, 10:17 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       The blood sprayed. It lay in the ground almost in a puddle as
       the body without its head fell forward and hit the ground with a
       thump. Blood poured from the man's neck and she looked toward
       the rest of the prisoners, aside from Whelan. She couldn't stand
       to look at him right then. "Does anyone else want to mock me and
       my men?" She screamed in their direction. Some flinched from
       seeing their friend now laying headless and in his own blood.
       She held the sword tightly in her hands, her breath shallow
       before she composed herself, straightening. The men were silent.
       Even the prisoners. Her words were not to be taken lightly
       anymore. They knew it. Pressing her lips together, she took in a
       deep breath, wiped her face of some blood and then threw the
       sword into the ground, where it stood. She would only use it to
       punish again, and she had a feeling that with her recent motion
       that they would not want her to be angry anymore. "Now. You guys
       have a chance to speak, ask questions, and tell us what exactly
       is happening with the king's army." She said calmly looking at
       them.
       The prisoners were quiet and she stood there for a moment.
       "Speechless? Of course." She coughed a little and looked at her
       men then back at the tent where food was served, she could see
       the smoke rising above. They were practically in the middle of
       no where so she really didn't mind. She nodded to her men. "Go
       eat. Looks like Grange has something for you guys to eat." She
       glanced at one of the men. "Take Whelan. I will deal with him
       later." She said with a sigh. She didn't even turn to look at
       Whelan when she told the other man to take him to the food tent.
       They took his shoulder and helped him over to the tent, leaving
       her alone. The whole lot began to go toward the tent. They had
       been hungry for a couple of days now. And she needed them to be
       distracted. Turning back to the prisoners, she sighed. "When
       does the king plan to strike?" She asked, looking at the
       prisoners, one by one. For a moment they hesitated. "We are
       training. We don't have the exact plans just yet. At least told
       to the army." The main one began to speak. The one that had
       caused all of them to get slashes across their cheeks.
       "Well do you guys not have mouths? What are the rumors?" She
       asked, looking at them. The main one sighed and sat back on his
       heels. "Well, the guy that you cut the head off of was the one
       who usually told us all the news." He said with a sigh. "So I
       think you are sunk." He smirked at her. Srytka shook her head.
       "I will make another mark in your cheek. Do not tempt me." She
       pushed the bangs out of her face. "And besides. Why are you
       using him as a cover up. He must have told you something." She
       said, her voice still held tight though she knew that she was
       going to break. There was a little bit of silence before the
       last one spoke. "How does it feel to lose your brother?" He
       asked. His voice was deep and it was played out by the way he
       spoke. He had planning on this. The mention of her brother was
       not just another shot toward her, she tightened her arms, acting
       unaffected. "Do you plan on mocking him too?" She asked. "My
       brother fought along side all of you at one time. Heath had him
       and me thrown from the castle after our father was killed in
       battle." Her eyes narrowed. The man did not seem to back down.
       She stepped closer, picking up the sword as she did so. She
       leaned closer to him. "How would you like it if you were thrown
       from your home and treated like an untouchable. Hmm? Hungry and
       starving. Alone and without shelter. Only depending on the
       garbage that others used, as food. While, the people whom had
       banished you have full bellies of every single meat you could
       ever think of and wine until they were drunk?"
       "And if that doesn't hit home. I bet now that once your are
       dead, your children and your wife will be banished to the
       wastelands. Because, as your friend said, 'The King is only
       getting rid of the weak.'" She quoted looking at the man
       straight into the eyes. It did. He stared at her with disgust.
       "Now, do you see why I am angry? My family was stripped from me.
       I stand alone with these men to fight back for our freedom. For
       our right to be in that kingdom and not be treated unfairly."
       "Killing won't gain respect." The man said.
       Srytka pulled back. "No, but it will bring fear." She smiled a
       little before she sliced the sword into his arm, making a deep,
       very deep gash.
       #Post#: 203613--------------------------------------------------
       Re: A Delicate Forest 
       By: Christopher Moran Date: June 13, 2012, 11:02 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Feeling himself being pushed into the food tent, he sat down,
       and just stared at the table, he didn't touch any food, or drink
       anytyhing he just sat there. He didn't care what Srytka did now,
       he had tried to help, and now here he sat, his head throbbing,
       and most likely any chance of ever being close to Sry, goone
       from his grasp. So, he sat, quietly and waited, wondering, what
       his fate was to be, no matter what, he wouldn't leave, he would
       not abandon Srytka. Even if she screamed, hollered, struck him,
       injured him, he would stand and take the abuse, he would not
       leave her, no matter what, he had made a promise. A promise he
       would keep forever more, no matter what the price. Hearing
       people sit on either side of him, he saw Max and Slater, in the
       short time they had know each other, the three had become
       friends, thought they still followed Srytka unquestionably,
       Slater set a cup of wine in front of Whelan, who just stared at
       it, and he heard Max mutter, "You are a damned fool Whelan..."
       Shrugging Whelan remained quiet, as he picked up the cup and
       took a drink, then set it down. Slater patted his shoulder the
       man knew what Whelan was thinking about, the man was brilliant,
       under his guise of a loyal mountain of meat and muscle.
       It seemed like seconds passded, before he felt Max touch his
       shouldert, Whelan hadn't even noticed him leave, let alone
       return, "Come on, Srytka wants you." He stated, and the trio
       walked to her tent. Standing out side out the entryway, he
       looked at the ground, and felt Slater give him a push forward,
       and with that, Whelan walked into the tent. Walking in, he
       stared at the ground, quiet, his hands at his sides, he was
       hopeless, no matter what he tried to do he screwed up. He had
       tried to help the woman he adored, now he was about to be
       punished by her for it. So rather than argue, plead, or beg,
       Whelan just stood quietly.
       Looking up at Srytka finally, the blood dried on his face, he
       merely mumbled, "What..." he felt pathetic, as he stood there,
       how a girl so beautiful, and innocent looking, could have such a
       dark side. He could not know, it was beyond him. He waited for
       her to explode on him, he waited for the shouting, the swearing,
       the physical strikes, he expected it. His shoulders were
       slumped, his hands dangling loosely at his side, his face had an
       expression, of quite resignation,  look saying he was ready for
       the fate that she would hand down to him. Yet in all of that he
       still had a desire to hold her, to do nothing else, just merely
       wrap his arms around her and hug her. Perhaps, if the situation
       was different he would do so, but not now, not like this.
       #Post#: 203648--------------------------------------------------
       Re: A Delicate Forest 
       By: Srytka Date: June 13, 2012, 11:42 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       The prisoners were useless. They didn't tell her anything. She
       sighed and pulled away, feeling they were punished enough before
       she sunk back into her tent. She would have to deal with Whelan
       now. That poor soul who had tried to help her, but did not know
       the right time to do so, the whole time. She sighed and sunk her
       head into her hands as she sat down on her bed. Her lonely bed.
       She sighed and stood up from it, walking to the side where she
       looked into a mirror that she was lucky to have. She looked at
       herself seeing all the cuts and scars that she had on her body,
       but they were minor and most could not see them. She crossed her
       arms and wiped the blood from her face, though it looked like
       there were strands of her hair put together there, but she just
       wiped the blood away and then sat down at the vanity. Hearing
       the voices coming toward her tent once she had called for Whelan
       to be brought in. She shook her head as she waited, but she
       didn't see anyone. Soon, there was an opening of the tent in the
       hallway. The light was opening on the doors before the final
       flap was opened and in came in Whelan.
       She looked at him before she pulled out the chair that she was
       sitting in and pushed it out to him. "Sit." She said, turning
       her head as she faced away from him. He was speaking, but then
       did not finish his sentence. "Why did you interrupt me? To help
       me?" She asked, knowing what his answer was to be. Then once he
       stated, she continued. "You have to understand. You cannot come
       in here and act like you know more than me. That embarrasses me
       in front of the prisoners as well as the men." She said softly.
       "You do not know how long it took for me to build up my
       reputation of not being messed with. It took me years and years
       of trying to get my rank over these men. My brother did it
       easily because he had that leadership quality." She continued to
       face away from him, as she could not stand to look at him as she
       spoke. He could not see the tears that were running down her
       face. "I do not have that leadership quality. I have to work on
       it every single damn day. And if you come in and ruin it like
       you did today one more time, I will do much worse than making a
       single slice into your cheek."
       She sighed and wiped the tears from her face before she finally
       looked at him. "I have to be strong for those men out there.
       Half of them are homesick and scared wondering if I am even the
       right leader." She looked to the side. "The other half are just
       followers because they don't want my punishment." She sighed.
       "You do not understand how it is being the only woman in the
       group of men." She came closer to him, touching his shoulder,
       but she did not look at him. The touch was enough to bring her
       to her knees. She wanted more of that kiss that was still
       lingering on her lips. She wanted that slow kiss and the hold
       that he held onto her while they kissed back at the medical
       tent. Oh did she want that. She ached about it, but she
       couldn't. She couldn't succumb to it. Her eyes fluttered to the
       door as one of the men. She was about to growl at him and tell
       him to leave, but he shook his head. "This is urgent, Srytka."
       He said. She nodded her head with a sigh, pulling her hand away
       from Whelan's shoulder. "Speak." She ordered, crossing her arms.
       Her face was dry now, and she was thanking God in that moment.
       "One of the men heard that the Princess is in the North for the
       Honeymoon." He said. Srytka lifted a brow. "So she is married
       now?" She laughed quietly before motioning him to continue. "So
       this means that the King will strike sometime in the next few
       weeks while she is gone." Srytka nodded her head and looked down
       at Whelan for a moment before returning her eyes to the man. "Go
       tell the man to start preparing weapons. We have a war in our
       midst."
       *****************************************************
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