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((Jeez, I enter in one post, and out of nowhere I have three women all over me/my hawk. This reminds me of waaaay too many animes))

The only thing that saved Cyrith was his reflexes. If he hadn't of done a back handspring, he would have been skewered by he arrow. It was bad enough that someone shot at Slash, but to aim at him was taking it too far. He spun on the girl that shot at him.

Fire in his eyes, it started to flare up around his blades. He didn't realize they were there, not even as the flames licked his arms. Magically-induced flames that don't harm the wielder. He just slowly advanced on the girl, his voice like venom. "You want to know what is happening? YOU want to KNOW what is HAPPENING? I will tell you. I was minding my own business, when out of nowhere my hawk is shot down like some common bird. I was actually about to kill the moron who decided to hurt my only friend, when you decide to interfere. If you wouldn't mind, please do this. Stay. Out. Of. My. BUSINESS." When the last word was yelled out, the flames flew into a spiraling pillar, making a dent in the clouds above him, scorching the ground below him, and creating a corona of reds and oranges around him.

Hearing no answer, Aria got onto Moon and they flew off. While they were flying, Moon flew over a clearing and Aria saw all that happened. Then they continued flying towards Frostbite Mountains.

((Sorry I haven't been around. Been studying for finals like a good girl wink And... everyone was walking around so sulkily. I had to antagonize something or someone))

Astraea had already replaced the arrows into her quiver, strung her bow around her shouler, and slid the spear from the wrap in her back. She was now waiting patiently for the two to finish their oddly-timed conversation. Not impressed by the column of fire or the poor boy's anger issues, she glanced over at the injured bird in dismay. So that's why there was a hawk in these parts. It belonged to someone. Whoops.

"I apologize if I wounded your comrade," Astraea said, entirely sincere. "But he was unmarked as far as I could tell. If it pleases you, there's an elven village no more than half-a-day's walk south. They would be able to mend your bird."

"No. I don't need your help. The last time I accepted help, the original owner of these swords was killed. Leave me alone. As for the Elven village to the south. I know them, personally, but I have no reason to go back there. I effectively cut off all ties to them about a year ago." With that, he slid the blades back in his sheath, and walked over to Slash, who hopped on the offered arm, then walked off. He just wanted to get away, and Cyrith knew the only way to do that was to keep walking.

((Sorry for the delay (((again))) I went to camp this weekend))

Astraea watched him walk off for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. Then understanding washed over her--visibly--and she nodded her head. "Ah," she said smiling coyly, speaking just loud enough for human ears to hear. "I remember you. You're Galaeron's boy. The human he took in. I'm right, aren't I?" Although, she didn't phrase it as a question.

On the bank of the Sapphire River, Devasad was sat, staring into the sparkling waters, reflecting the light of a pink dusk, as the sun settled in the mountains to sleep. He was tired, not horrendously tired, but pleasantly tired. He'd done a good day of work, and was ready to drift off to sleep. Rubbing his arms, he put on his long sleeved woollen shirt, to ward off the cold now that the sun was no longer looking down upon the Frostbitten Territories. Leaning back on the lush grass, Devasad saw Old Haskill walking toward him, coming from the small farmhouse where he lived.

He smiled. He liked Old Haskill. The man was practically a father to him, and was in no two minds about taking him in after what had happened five years ago. As long has he helped the old man with his apple crops, picking them, and selling them, Haskill was happy for him to say. He needed someone to talk to these days, he said, since his wife, Emerdelsa, bless her heart, was no longer around.

"Ah, Dev", said the old man, calling him by his nickname. "Glad to have found you. I'd like to thank, as always, for helping me with the crops this year. Heres a bit of money, and don't say you won't take it this time. You deserve it."

Knowing the old man wouldn't take no for an answer, Devasad grudgingly obliged and allowed the old man to give him a small bag of silver coins. "You know I hate you giving money to me"

"Hell, you're practically the son I never had, boy."

"Eh, enough of the boy if you mind, I'm one and twenty this year."

Haskill smiled at Devasads comment. "You'll always be a boy in my head, laddie."

Frowning, the old man lowered himself next to Devasad, sitting on the sloping bank beside him. "You'll be off again soon, I expect, tramping about?"

"Aye, same as always." Devasad replied.

"Heh, wish I could see the Territories like you have. But... Be careful this year. I've heard, in the village, that theres change. Rumours about some legendary fire."

"..The Emerald Fire? Surely that's just a legend?"

"Well, I heard that five and ten year old boys surviving a fire without so much as a burn on them was legend as well." Old Haskill smiled at him.

"Well... thats... different. The Emerald Fire is a legend thousands of years old. Surely it can't be true."

"Every legend has a grain of truth. But I digress. Just take care out there, Devasad."

And with that reply, the old man stood up, pushing himself off the bank, and started his way back to the farmhouse. Stopping, he turned round to the man still led down on the grass, and told him that apple pie was ready.

A wide grin spreading on his face, Devasad leapt up, and caught up with Old Haskill, the two men making their way to the wood and stone building, it's windows glowing in the rapidly darkening landscape.

((Whew. Hi guys! As you've pretty much guessed, Devasad is a new character smile Just a little point, I have used a rather strange method for stating someone's age, as seen in 'Eh, enough of the boy if you mind, I'm one and twenty this year.' It is just a normal age, simply switched round a bit. So one and twenty is twenty-one. The same goes for five and ten, which is fifteen. Can be a bit confusing I realise, but I don;t see why you shouldn't be able to pick it up smile

And hi Magnavar ;D I'm in Mishap Mercenaries too biggrin ))

Pili was returning from Saphirre Springs with two buckets of streaming water yoaked across her shoulders. Her learn muscels supported the weigth easily. Not a drop of water had sloched out of the buckets onto her leater sparring pants, but the wood of the yoak rubbed terribly on her bare shoulders; she hardly ever wore a shirt as her lustrus green scales covered her vitals. She wouldn't even be wearing pants if her father didn't insist upon them.

"Pa'! I'm home!" Pili shouted as she entered the small cottage. Her father, now in his fifties, rounded the corner with two bowls of steaming outmeal in his hands.

"Put the water down and get some food in yer' belly," he said with a smile, the crow's feet around his eyes deepened. His brown hair was turning more grey every day, but his build was still that of a stong man.

She carefully placed the yoak by the door, careful not to spill any, and sat with her father. She lowered her head towards the bowl and, holding the spoon like a shovel with her elbow cocked to the side, began to devoure her breakfast.

"Pili! After fifteen years, can't ya' at least humor yer' poor Pa' and eat like a lady," he scolded, narrowing his eyes, "And ya' didn't wear yer' shirt ta' the Spring either; I told ya' when ya' leave this village yer' to cover yer' self. The other villages aren't used ta' seein' ya'."

The young halfling wiped oatmeal from her mouth with the back of her hand and licked it off defiantly. "But Pa! My wings get cramped and sore under that cloth!" Pili said as she sat up straight, lowered her elbow and held the spoon right after her father glarred at her. "All the clothes around her are too stuffy for my wings; you wouldn't understand." She resuemed eating her meal.

"If I give ya' five coins, will ya' go down ta' Saphirre River village and get somethin'; I hear those women make lighter clothes?"

Pili smiled and nodded her head.