RP Log: A long forgotten rite.

[zane_r2a]

Somewhere in Weirmonken, just within the borders of the Icemane territory is a hidden ravine that has come to the attention of some of the Weir. It is to that place, which harbors a pool of black water and strange mystical paintings on the wall, that some of them travel to.

A message was sent to Niklas, a note tied around the shaft of an arrow that thudded into the dirt near his feet. The hastily written scrawl read: Niklas, tonight the moon's going to be full. I've got a bad feeling about it. I know everyone's gathering tomorrow when it will be at its roundest but I'd feel a lot happier with a tough guy or two on hand. Don't tell Zane but can you meet me at the ravine. If you can remember how to get there. Roman.

After receiving his arrow Niklas goes to Weirmonken first. Faelin is shown the letter from a freaked out Roman and the two depart for the Ravine. Niklas comes armed to the teeth and there's a certain tension that radiates from him.

Faelin has fallen rather quiet upon their arrival to the sacred place. A certain stubborness and resentment leaves her lips thinned. "I've mentioned I hate this whole idea, right?" She murmurs.

"I know, Darlin'. I ain't to happy about it either," Niklas grumbles. He looks over at Fae, looking her up and down all ARgus-like. "You alright?"

Roman is standing outside the ravine watching the sky grow darker. Hanging like a giant pendant is the moon, rising up higher as the curtains of day are pulled close. It's not at its brightest or most rounded but it is full. He hops from one foot to the other, nervous and waiting for something. The arrival of two others has him skipping towards them, throwing himself first at Faelin. "You came!"

Faelin tosses hair back from her face, "I'm peach, of course," she says. Roman's enthusiasm precludes more. She tenses a little but does relax and give the man a returned hug. "I had nothing else pressing on my appointment calendar. Be glad my stylist rescheduled." She looks at him as if to judge how he is without asking.

Niklas grunts, further emphasizing his less than pleasant mood. "You said you needed someone with muscles."

Roman goes to throw himself at Niklas next but the thought of being skewered by one of the Argus' many weapons keeps him at bay. Nervous energy abounds and it shows, the young Icemane fidgeting with whatever he can get his hands on. Currently it's a small coin, rolling across his knuckles and disappearing into his palm. "I was just hoping Niklas could spare me an hour or two. You're a lot prettier than he is, Faelin, so I'll probably just stare at you instead."

"You realize that part of me still wants to punch you, Roman," Faelin says with a slight pout. Her lips twitch upwards, "Though? The pretty comment /has/ made that a much smaller comment." She tilts her head, "Why are you so nervous? It isn't you having to do this silly test thing."

Niklas grunts at Roman again when the throwing is aborted. He settles, instead, for patting the boy's shoulder.

Roman gestures ahead to the ravine even as the sky continues to darken overhead. "Big guys first, beautiful ladies second, little mystics last." He grins and pockets his coin.

Faelin looks to Niklas and frowns a little, "Ever notice how he never really answers questions put to him?" She grumbles.

Niklas reaches over to snag Roman by the back of his shirt and lift him off the ground. "Answer her question, Roman."

Roman's feet dangle in the air as he gets snatched up off the ground. "Hey!" His hands clutch at Niklas' arms. "What makes you think I know anything? I've only been doing this task for a week or two. Of course I'm nervous. What if HE shows up tonight instead of tomorrow?"

"So he's supposed to show up tomorrow?" Faelin asks quietly. She looks at Niklas in concern and then back to Roman. She sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose, hiding her expression. "Can someone tell me why... someone lie to me and tell me that Zane has informed Emrys. That we'll have the strongest of the Weir here. That we are using our time to get ready for this and..." She trails off and looks up.

Niklas drops Roman back to his feet. "It's getting dark. We should get a move on." A worried frown flickers toward Faelin but otherwise the Argus just seems grumpy.

Roman appears a little ruffled but otherwise okay. "Yeah, lets. Big guy first, beautiful lady second, little mystic with the hurt feelings last." Even though he's a little guy, he starts shooing you both into the ravine's opening.

Faelin gestures, "After you, Nik-darling."

Niklas nods, grunts and draws out to long, wickedly serrated knives. He turns toward the intended path and begins moving. The knives, as wicked as they look, get toyed with as he walks wether that's spinning on his palm or slashing out at something along the way.

It might not have occured to Faelin to draw weapons until she sees Nik do so. She wrinkles her nose a little shifting her bow on her shoulder. She compromises, taking it to hand but not yet going for the caution of a full notch and draw.

Entering the ravine, nothing seems to have changed since they were last here. It is still dark aside from the lichen that glows softly upon the walls. The dark pool of water lies still at the far end and on the wall to the side, the paintings have shifted slightly. Beneath the full moon a human figure stands looking up at it. A black mark touches the moon, but only one, the moon before it still has two marks smudging it. The quiet within is oppressive, the sounds the three Weir make, breathing, walking, conversation, all sounds smothered. Roman keeps himself behind the other two, "Can you feel that?" His gaze darts back and forth, still nervous.

Niklas sniffs at the air and looks about, his yellow eyes narrowed slightly. "Feels like magic," he decides with a growly voice.

What Niklas alone sees: There is movement in the water, a bubble rising to the surface and then popping. A second later another rises up slowly, then another and another. It is akin to water boiling, slowly churning as if the temperature was increasing.

"Yes," Faelin says quietly and she too sniffs the air. She looks around, alert and wary.

Outside the ravine, the moon reaches the apex in the sky and the few clouds that threatened to blot it out are blown away by the wind. Shining brightly, a single moonbeam falls from the sky to light up a patch of earth below. Within the cavern itself, light begins to filter in from somewhere and the night seems to shrink back a little. Upon the wall, the full moon starts to glow and the outline vibrates. Those that watch, see the moon split as if it was an embryo giving life to a twin. The two moons pull away from one another and separate, one bright and the other dark. Roman taps Faelin's shoulder and points to an opening, a small alcove that wasn't there before. "That's new. Right? Tell me I'm not seeing things."

Niklas looks away from the happenings on the wall to where Roman points. He tilts his head slightly as he squints to inspect it.

Faelin is tense, hands tight on her bow, "I see it as well." She looks behind to make sure the way out is not blocked. "Is... that where Niklas is supposed to go?" She soounds doubtful.

What Faelin alone sees: In that alcove you glimpse a wolf, at least you think it was a wolf. It flashed past the opening, disappearing further inside with a wag of its tail.

What Niklas can see: What opening? You only see a flat wall. There's nothing there. Roman's been eating to many mystic berries as far as you can tell. The water is boiling in earnest now but it is no longer black. As the bubbles pop, you can see the water is becoming clear like crystal. The mark on his hand burns now, not the cold of the imprint but with the heat. It seems to boil within your skin in time with the pool of water.'.

"What are you looking at," Niklas asks. Though he doesn't look away from the wall he begins fanning his hand fervently, as if he'd touched something hot.

Roman shrugs, "I don't know. Nobody gave me an instruction booklet." He gives Faelin a little nudge with his hip, having moved up beside her. "After you sweet, dear Faelin." Something else catches his attention and he glances towards the pool of water. "It wants you, Niklas."

"Someone is in there," Faelin says, "A wolf." She looks from Roman to Niklas, "What? We don't stay together?" She does take a couple steps towards the alcove but focuses on Nik.

Niklas looks from that portion of wall to the pool, the wall and then to Roman and Faelin. He continues fanning his hand for a moment before he looks down at it. It's fine. "What. The. Fuck."

Roman tries to hide behind a brave facade of cheek. "Always with the questions. You're so high maintenance, Faelin." He does the next bravest thing he can think of, ducking behind her and giving her a gentle push forward. "Remember you're here to protect me. Miloslav made that very clear, yeah?"

What Niklas alone hears: There's the sound of a baby crying, it's coming from the pool. It's scream is that of a newborn in protest against having to take its first breath outside the womb.

Niklas blinks and looks to the bubbling pool. He turns to begin walking toward it as if, suddenly, his mind was completely elsewhere and the world around him has vanished.

What Faelin alone hears: Is that the sound of laughter? It isn't human, sounding ragged as if coming from the throat of a wolf.

Faelin heads into the alcove giving one last reluctant and fierce look at Niklas, "You be careful." She tells him. Then she rolls her eyes and nudges Roman, "Alright come on. And yes. High maintenance indeed." She heads in, fingers still tight on bow.

Roman starts muttering something about poor Zane but then he and Faelin are gone. Behind Niklas there is nothing but empty space. If there was an alcove, it is closed, only the rock walls stare back at him in silence. However, a baby still cries to him, screaming from the depths of the pool. Getting closer he can see that the boiling has stopped and the surface is flat and calm. Niamh lies there, birthing their pups. She strains to bring their daughter into the world for it is their son that makes his angry protest known.

Niklas drops to his knees in front of the pool and leans forward to look into it. He bites his lip as he watches. "Roman... what is this?"

Roman follows behind Faelin, muttering something about poor Zane. Ahead of her, there's a small bend and rounding that, she can see steps carved into the stone. It does feel a little claustrophic, a closed in tunnel and staircase but that laughter still sounds ahead of her.

As he watches, Niklas can see himself coming into view to take his son into his arms. The pride in the Argus is evident even to his own eyes and he can feel that emotion bubbling up out of the water to surround him. Another cry joins the first and his daughter can be seen, born healthy and strong. Niamh collapses back onto the bed, exhausted from the ordeal of birthing twins.

Niklas leans closer to the pool, his eyes widening. The grumpiness seems to be melting away as a slow smile flickers to life on his lips.

In the pool: Pressing their son into Niamh's arms, Niklas readies himself to hold his daughter for the first time. The midwife on hand wipes most of the gore from her pink skin and wraps her in a birthing blanket before handing her to her father. "Niklas?" Niamh sounds very tired, "Are they okay?" Every mother worries about the perfection of their babies and Niklas' reply eases those concerns, "They're perfect, Nia, just perfect."

Niklas's smile only blossoms, perhaps he thinks this is somehow telling his future. His hand lifts to reach for the water as if reaching for Niamh.

In the pool: The room around the new family falls away to greens and browns, the forest thinning out around Niamh and two pups at play by her feet. They can't be much older than five but as wolves, they're still small and defenceless, needing protection. As Niklas' hand touches the water, his fingers dip through the surface and the burning mark on his hand is cooled. He watches his children tumble over one another, tugging on each other's ears as Niamh lays upon a picnic blanket laughing. He can see his mate has matured with the responsibility and nurturing of motherhood, her beauty having grown along with a confidence she once lacked.

Niklas sighs when his hand finds nothing but water. He settles his hands on his knees as he watches. Even here, in the real world, his eyes light up with pride.

As he watches, Niklas can see the forest surrounding his family darken with shadows and twisted shapes. A howl sounds behind them and then a snarl to their left. Niamh sits up and pulls her children towards her, protective but not afraid for her gaze locks upon Niklas' own. 'We are safe,' comes his mate's thought, 'You keep us that way.' That is until her throat is torn out and Niklas vision blurs, a red haze forming before him.

Niklas growls loudly and launches a fist forward to plunge it into the pool even as his entire body coils like he's going to dive in head first.

As he dives into the pool, his vision clears to reveal his family slaughtered, torn apart by the extremely large and dangerous looking wolf standing above their remains. The laughter that rushes to meet him is cold and cruel. "Fools," sounds the other wolf's voice, "To think you could ever keep them safe from me." At first, Niklas sees Raine before him, murderer of his mate and children but it's the voice, the laughter that dispels that illusion. Blood and bits of torn flesh cling to Niklas' maw, his teeth revealed as his lip curls back in an evil sneer. "We will feast." The real Niklas has the sensation of falling and then he lands with a jolt, standing inside that patch of forest that lays bloodied. His twin, dark wolven glory, leaps to meet him.

Niklas doesn't have time to even consider that the thing lunging at him is himself... or approximation of such. He snarls and launches forward as he draws out those serrated blades. His eyes are alive, suddenly, nearly glowing with rage.

RPG: Niklas challenges a difficulty of 8, using his Force plus PHY-ST. Niklas succeeds.

Niklaswolf snaps his jaws at Niklas, claws raking against the skin of his opponent. The Argus may have fought stronger or more vicious creatures in the past but none knew him as well as his twin. The wolf circles around, ducking this swipe of one blade, avoiding the slash of the next, for he knows each move as well as the one making them. He doesn't possess Niklas' fury spurred on by the love he holds for Niamh and his unborn pups. Having watched them die, he is driven on by vengeance, something his twin cannot hope to emulate.

Niklas doesn't even seem to be himself anymore, consumed by that rage. He snarls at his twin, salivating with heavy breaths. The knives he holds are thrown to the ground and he launches forward again with a baleful howl. In mid flight he shifts in a way that he never has before. His body explodes into the wolf with the sickening sounds of shredding flesh. Normally Niklas is controlled in the way he fights even as barbaristic as that usually is. Now though... he fights subconciously using only that unbridled hatred.

Protect his charge. Niklas lost one many years ago, it wasn't his fault but it was a heavy burden to carry. Now it is his family, the most precious of charges placed into his care. Their loss will not go unpunished. Taken by surprise, the other wolf finds himself cannoned into and thrown backwards by Niklas. Sliding along the dirt on his side, he tries to roll over to counterattack but Niklas is too quick for him. This time when he is barrelled into, he is turned over onto his back, kicking and snarling as he tries to defend himself against the unrelentess attack. Struggling against Niklas, his head is tipped back and the soft underside of his throat is revealed.

Instinct rules Niklas right now, rage fueled instinct. His maw opens wide to clamp down on the throat of his twin. That, however, is not enough. With the growl of a true Alpha he yanks his head back to rip half of his twin's throat away with a stomach turning squealch and a spray of blood.

As the blood spurts forth and covers him in a fine mist, he can hear a soft growling, Grrrr and feel a tug at his ankle, something is pulling on his pant leg. To the side, Niamh lies on her back, fending off their son who is determined to lick every inch of his mother's face. Down at his feet, their daughter shakes her head from side to side, trying to save her father from the evil trousers he wore today. Overhead the sun shines brightly, there isn't a cloud in the sky and the only scent on the light breeze is that of summer and flowers.

Niklas freezes in place but continues to breath heavily. He shakes off the confusion his eyes look up at the sky, then to Niamh and his son. His eyes then travel down to the furry little puppy gnawing on his pants. For several more moments he just looks confused. Finally he drops to his knees and scoops up his daughter to cradle in his arms tightly, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks.

His daughter fidgets a little, this wasn't in the rules. She was killing her father's pants! Shifting in his arms, he can feel two little arms hug him back and the sweetest of voices reassure him, "It's okay, papa. I killed them for you. Don't cry." Niamh looks over, curious about her mate's sudden tears but their son uses that distraction to claim victory over his mother. Roman's voice sounds behind Niklas, a safe distance away lest he find himself attacked by the Argus. "It's only a fear, Niklas. We all have them, they're neither rational or real but we can't let them rule our lives. You're going to make a great father, you won't be perfect, nobody is but you'll keep them safe. All of them."

Niklas remains on his knees next to the pool, arms bound about his chest as if he were really holding his daughter. "They died," he says softly. "I killed them."

Roman places his hand upon Nik's shoulder, "No, Niklas, you didn't. That was the burden of your fear, all the times you believe you have failed. Sometimes we do but we learn from those mistakes. What you saw, what you experienced was merely that, the guilt and grief you've harbored over the years. We who live suffer that, believing those who died would begrudge us happiness but we are the only ones who can do that. You don't have any reason to be afraid. Yes, you should worry but tell me what father doesn't worry about their children? Don't let natural instinct become a weakness, a thorn in your side, Niklas."

Niklas's shoulder sags under Roman's touch. "Since when did you get so damn wise," he asks, voice still soft.

"Since when did you start sounding like Faelin?" Comes Roman's retort and the little Icemane does his best to help Niklas to his feet, "I can do this though." Spreading his hand towards the pool, Roman summons an image to the clear water and Niklas can see his children once more. "When she gets older..."

Niklas looks down to the pool after getting to his feet, curious.

Faelin is still in the tunnel, wary as she walks forward. "Roman? This is all illusion then?" She asks quietly. Perhaps the scene with Niklas is the source of that.

"It's not truly accurate, Niklas." Roman tells him, "But it's damned close."

Meanwhile with Faelin, Roman continues to guard the rear. "I don't know. It seems pretty damned real to me." He knocks against one of the walls and a dull thud sounds. "Yep, solid too." Ahead of her, the steps continue to rise upwards and following them, the two step out onto a landing of sorts. There is no rail to prevent them from falling over the ledge if the move towards the edge. Standing there, waiting is a black wolf, identical in every way to Faelin's own form. Those pale green eyes could only belong to the Huntress of the Spire. The wolf barks, a challenge sounding before she leaps off the landing.

"What? I'm supposed to follow you?" Faelin retorts and then sniffs. However, the Huntress stalks forward to that ledge to peer over the edge. "That wasn't me, Roman. Therefore? It's not all the way real." She pauses, "You did see that wolf, right?"

Roman doesn't reply to Faelin but as she glances down, she can see the pool of black water beneath her as Niklas dives into it and somehow lands upon his feet in the middle of a forest. She watches as he battles himself, man versus wolf. The two opponents so evenly matched that the only way to turn the battle is for Niklas to shift in an unnatural way. The Huntress sees Niklas tear his opponent's throat out and around him, his mate and their children spring to life. Behind her, Faelin can feel two paws shove into her back and pitch her forward over the edge towards the cavern floor. It is when she should hit that hard rock surface that she finds herself standing behind Niklas and Roman, both standing in front of the pool. The image within it fades and the water turns black again and still.

Niklas looks up from the pool and to Faelin. For the first time ever she sees the lines running down his cheeks where tears have recently run.

Faelin sucks in breath as she fall but does not yelp. She is still now, looking from Niklas to Roman and then back to Niklas with the marks of grief on his face. She holds her breath for a moment and then exhales, "Oh, Niklas. It's alright." She says quietly.

Niklas nods slightly to Faelin and even tries to smile... but the expression never reaches his eyes. He looks toward the way out of the ravine. "I need to get back."

Roman steps to the side, watching Niklas and Faelin. "Go safely, Niklas."

"Do... do you want me to go with you?" Faelin asks.

Niklas draws a deep breath and then steps over to Faelin to throw his arms around her and give her a tight hug, "Normally I'd say yes... but... I think this is a walk I need to do alone."

Roman rubs his hands together, "If you need a strong brave warrior to walk you home, Faelin, I'm free."

Faelin hugs him back tightly, closing her eyes breifly. "Alright. But you aren't alone. There are people who love you, Niklas. They never leave you, okay? Corny and stupid as it sounds." She pulls back and looks wryly at Roman, "Didn't you say I should be protecting /you/?"

Niklas can't help but grin at what Roman says and nods to Faelin. "I know, Darlin'." He turns then, to ruffle Roman's hair."

Roman throws his hands up, trying to salvage his hair. "Always with the hair. Do you know how much work and effort goes into this hair? Chicks dig the hair, Niklas." He shrugs and sighs, his hair a ruffled yet cool mess and he grins at Faelin, "In here, yes, but I don't plan to be in here much longer. Don't know about you, but this place gives me the creeps."

Faelin crosses her arms over her chest, adopting a semi-careless stance. "No. I don't want to stay either."

Niklas dives forward, like he were diving into a pool of water, only to shift before he hits the ground. Four-legged he beggins running, hurriedly but not at a breakneck pace.

Roman watches as Niklas runs off, moving towards Faelin and offering his arm. "Your escort, milady. So tell me about the women of the Spire."

Faelin watches Niklas run away and then takes Roman's arm. "Most of them are rather lovely, strong, and look for strength in their playmates." She says simply.

Roman grins, "I'm stronger than I look. Sure I'm not big like Niklas but really, they can't all want big, dumb oafs, right?" And just in case Niklas can hear him, he calls out, "Like Zane!"

"You have a gaping hole in your armor, my dear," Faelin says with a soft smile and she nudges him. "It's exceptionally sweet. But I do worry for you because of it."

Roman laughs and nudges Faelin back, "Oh I can take care of myself. There isn't a woman yet who's been able to pin me down. I'm almost as fast as you are. Give me a few extra years and I bet I get faster."

"Only wounded things run as hard as you do, Roman," Faelin glances to him. "I have never seen you stand still."

"Right back at you, Sweetness." Roman smirks, "I bet there's a reason you're so quick too."

"I'm better at hiding it," Faelin declares and turns to bite Roman's arm in companionable friendliness.

Roman takes that moment to slap Faelin's rear and then make a run for it. "No you're not!"

Faelin smirks and she watches him run, eyes half-lidded and lazy. She pauses and moves to unfasten about half the buttons on her leather shirt. She saunters.

Roman does look back over his shoulder to gauge how much of a gap he has, eyebrows shooting up when he notices Faelin isn't giving chase. The unbuttoning distracts him and he doesn't realize he's shifted course until he runs into the side of the wall.

Faelin continues to walk, now humming softly under her breath. She may, in fact, walk right on by Roman. Hips swaying gently.

Roman mutters as Faelin walks on by, "You don't play fair." He rubs his knee with one hand, his cheek with the other and considers whether or not to follow.

Faelin smiles, "I was proving a point. Did you get it, my darling?" She calls out merrily.

Roman picks himself up and does follow, "Maybe but I think you're still hiding just as much as anyone else."

Faelin chuffs, "Of course I am." She says, "But I'm not running around like a chicken with my head cut off screaming 'Don't look at the gaping hole here!'"

Roman shrugs as he follows you out of the ravine and into the forest, "No but I'm not built for the ice queen crown you wear. No wait, I take that back. You're friendly and stuff but you've got walls taller than any tree I've ever seen."

Faelin may flinch slightly at the Ice Queen comment but if she does it doesn't slow her down. "Whatever. It hardly matters. You wanted to run? Let's run then." She shifts to wolf form and bolts out, full speed.

Roman doesn't follow suit this time, moving towards a boulder to sit down and stretch out on. He does call after her, "Now who's running away?"

There is a chuff that could stand in for a 'duh' and her voice, "Sad thing is, yuo have no idea why." She barks sharply and disappears.

Roman stays where he is, a lone sentry guarding the ravine knowing that Faelin will be back tomorrow night. She won't be alone but that's good because He could be bringing company of his own.

It is perhaps two hours later when the trees rustle ever so softly with something other than the wind...

Roman is stretched out over the same boulder, his belly rumbling from hunger. Tilting his head back, he stares at the entrance to the ravine, mumbling, "Put in a secret alcove but what about food?" He sits up suddenly and glances around, reaching for his bow that leans against the large rock.

The scent of blood wafts along the wind. Blood and bunny, then just the slightest trace of Faelin.

Roman lowers his bow back down, "Either that's Faelin come to save me from starving to death or the biggest rabbit in the world come to eat me up for dessert."

A sharp bark is his answer. As is a brace of bunnies thrown at him.

Roman slides off the boulder and catches dinner. "You don't have to be shy, Faelin. I'll do the cooking if you're hungry."

Faelin trots in, muzzle bloody. She licks it pointedly and thoroughly before she shifts to her human form, "Shy? Me? Have we met before, Roman?"

Roman grins, "A little too late but yes." He starts gathering up wood to build a fire and a few minutes later, the little bunnies are turning on a makeshift spit over a small fire. "Thank you," he says as he leans back against the boulder, "I thought I was going to starve."

Faelin finds a tree to lean against and shrugs, "So are you going to stay out here for... how long?"

"Good question," Roman admits before answering, "Till the moon goes down, then I'll be back tomorrow and the night after that. It will all happen tomorrow or the night after, I'm putting my money on tomorrow night."

"Want to set up traps?" Faelin asks, raising a brow.

Roman looks vaguely tempted, "We could but this is site for all Weir, not those we'd care to pick and choose. No, whoever comes, may come freely."

"You aren't expecting other Weir though, Roman. You are expecting Him. Right?" Faelin clarifies.

Roman sits forward to turn the bunnies, "That's my father He's got in there, Faelin. I don't know how He put him in there and I don't know how to get him out. If I don't let Him do it, then he could be stuck there forever."

Faelin pauses and then nods. "Alright. That makes sense. Then, perhaps..." She looks around, at a loss.

Roman asks quietly as he yanks a leg off one of the rabbits, "Why do you run then?"

"In general?" Faelin raises a brow.

Roman's own brows lift upwards, "You know what I mean."

Faelin's lips curve upwards, "No. I don't. I think I do, but this is one of those subjects that get tangled without clarity." She smirks at him, "I run, my dear, because idiots wield words and actions with all the subtlty of a Yoncick and I long ago got tired of being battered to a pulp by them."

"Does Zane do that too?" Roman tosses up his own reason for running, "I'm not like my father or grandfather, not like Zane is. They're the real warriors if you listen to the way my grandfather talks, father too. How can you let anyone get close and then bring them home to that? Mom understands but she has high expectations, I don't think anyone would meet them. Don't let a girl get close and that way nobody gets hurt, me most of all."

"Of course he does," Faelin says, smirking, "I've never met anyone who hasn't. Well, with the possible exception of Aryn. But give her time." She tilts her head and studies him, "Do you believe them? That you aren't a real warrior?"

"If I was, I wouldn't be standing around guarding this place, would I?" Roman chews through the leg and starts gnawing on the bone. "My father can use any weapon you place into his hand. Me? Bow, dagger and sword. Look at me, I'm not that much bigger than you."

"Being a warrior is a fine thing," Faelin says, "I'm sure. But it isn't everything. Roman? I get beat up by other Weir nearly all the time. I get taken down in a spar or a challenge and the only control I have is to force my enemy to kill me. It ends my way, no matter what." She shakes her head, "Your grandfather, mother and father are not the sole determiners of what is valuable. And? Frankly? Any female worth her weight will see what is bright and wonderous in you. And tell your family to go screw themselves if try to run her off."

Roman stares at you as if you're a little crazy, "Why would you do that? I hate dying. Why would you put yourself through that, Faelin?" He does have a more serious question and asks it with a grin, "So you think I'm bright and wonderous, huh?"

"You think I like it?" Faelin retorts and looks away. "It... Look, we aren't talking about teaching spars. We're talking about me not bending my knee to anyone. Just because you can defeat me doesn't mean you are better than me. And you'd best kill me if you expect me to not keep coming."
Faelin snorts, "I think you have the potential to be it. Maybe." She tosses her head.

Roman smirks, "That ain't what you said." He tosses the splintered bone into the fire and seems rather smug with himself. "Is that pride that makes you keep that knee straight, Faelin? Those you force to kill you, do they ever think twice? Ever apologize? Do you really think they think they're better than you?"

Faelin's eyes narrow, "This coming from Zane, Roman?"

Roman points his hand at you. "I'm just using your own words, Sweetness. What's Zane got to do ... Did he hurt you?" His own eyes narrow as he starts to look angry, "Did that stupid big lumbering jackass of a brother of mine do something to you?"

Faelin bristles a little, though the reasons might be hard to determine. She tries to deflect, "Does it matter? You are hinting that my pride is .. is not right. That I should have sympathy on the person about to tear my throat out because they just want to humiliate me, or dominate me, not kill me." She raises her chin slightly.

Roman gets off his haunches, not feeling comfortable sitting down for such a discussion. "No, that's not what I'm hinting at all. I just find it hard to believe that every fight you've ever been involved in is about your pride. I've been in a lot of fights too, Faelin, for many different reasons. I know when I'm licked and when that happens, I admit it. There's no shame in defeat if you fought well but lost to a more skilled opponent." Typical Icemane propaganda. "What would you do, if you and I fought over say that rabbit? Say you got your jaw around my throat but I wouldn't stop. What would you do? Let me go and walk away, letting me have the rabbit afterall? How would you make me see that the rabbit was yours and I should accept that?"

Faelin's lips quirk upwards, "I'm not an Icemane, Roman. I don't get into physical altercations unless I'm sparring, in which case I'm there to learn and I can usually accept defeat, or unless I deem it is a situation worth dying for if I can't win it."

Roman rubs at his waist, "Now, now, that's a bit below the belt. Keep it clean." He pokes his tongue out at you, leaning back against the boulder. "I just don't get how you can feel a situation is worth dying for if you're not going to win. Doesn't it defeat the whole purpose to begin with? If you can't win, why engage?"

"Because sometimes people push you to," Faelin says simply. She tilts her head, "How about this? Someone walks into your home and deliberately hurts you. Verbally, mind. But they do indeed plan and plot to hurt and humiliate. You ask them to leave. They don't. What do /you/ do, Roman?"

Roman mulls it over and then asks, "First off, are my family home? Because if they are, I get Zane, Mom, Dad and Alexis to kick 'em out. If not, then I do it myself." He flexes his left arm, "Nobody messes with me."

Faelin inclines her head, "See? You would fight. And if they pinned you and told you to submit and give in? Would you? Let them reaffirm their right to stay, even when you said to leave? Or would you tell them that you'd rather be dead then share the same space with them, voluntarily, at that time and place?"

Roman dares to ask, "Did Zane do that to you? Because I know my brother and I can't believe he'd do that, Faelin. He wouldn't know how to plot and I've never known him to go out of his way to hurt anyone. Okay maybe that one time when those guys were picking on me but nah, that's not Zane."

"Hypothetical," Faelin says succinctly. Uncompromisingly.

Roman is all too happy to let it go at that. "Hungry?" He points to the rabbit still roasting. "Got plenty to go around."

Faelin shakes her head and stands up, "No. If you are set, I'm going to head out."

Roman sits as she stands, "I think so, thanks for the grub, Faelin. You're a life saver. I do have one more question for you though. Now I know why you run, I'm curious. You ever going to stop?"

Faelin snorts. Then she's turning away, shifting, and trotting from the camp.