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 Posted: Sun Feb 09, 2014 9:49 pm
A week had passed since his run in with Charolette and the wound he'd sustained in rescuing her had healed little. In fact, it had started showing signs of infection. Worried, Stephen had wasted little time in trekking over to Brann Hawthorne's, the local apothecary, to get it checked out. Even with Araci's - Brann's assistant - herbal expertise, there was little to be done. Apparently, he had waited to long, and Brann nor Araci could say with confidence that a herbal remedy would be enough. So Brann had recommended he see Margaret Wrenne, a young woman with a gift, who lived on the outskirts of town.
Stephen had heard of people like her - hedgewitches. He'd always been unsure of this sort of "magic", but being in possession a guardian himself, there was little room for skepticism on his end. So with a disgruntled grunt, he'd left and set out for the small cottage Brann had indicated, Fallon marching along at his side.
The trip didn't take long, though Stephen did hurry, as if the infection might spread and kill him in the time it took to walk across town. A quick glance noticed the small herb farm and the woman's goat, neither of which seemed suspicious or out of place. With a shrug, Stephen approached the door and knocked, one eye on Fallon, who was eyeing the goat, in case the guardian decided to dart away.
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Posted: Sun Feb 09, 2014 10:16 pm
His knock was greeted by a croaking voice that slowly intoned "Abandon hope all ye who ent-AWK!"... followed by the rather distinctive crash and clatter of a thrown pot, the rattle of wingbeats, an old woman's cackling laughter, and a younger voice. "Spirit's SAKE both of you be quiet! People talk enough as it is," the voice, that of a woman, groused. Shortly thereafter the door opened quite abruptly, causing a bell strung from the inner handle to tinkle merrily (an odd addition since the house in question was no shop, at least, it wasn't marked as such) to reveal a short, stocky woman with a shock of red curly hair and a pasted-on smile that did not light her brilliant green eyes in the slightest. Well, she was trying, anyway. "Welcome to Wrenne's Herbs and Curatives, sir. What can we help you with this fine... Oh, hullo," she said, her spiel (which she didn't sound terribly thrilled to deliver in the first place) immediately derailed by her honest interest in and curiosity of Fallon as she blinked at the buck. "A Chosen, eh? Haven't seen one of you in my yard before," she commented offhandedly. "Come on in." With that, the woman stepped away, leaving the door wide open for Stephen (and Fallon, if he so desired) to enter. The stone cottage was dimly lit inside, most of the windows covered by thorny, twining vines that would probably give rise to a profusion of roses come spring (provided they weren't dead. This time of year, it was difficult to tell). A fire crackled in the grate, before which sat a bent old woman wrapped in a shawl who stared curiously with eyes as bright a green as Maggie's. The rafters were hung with all manner of drying seed pods, grasses, leaves, flowers, shoots, stems, and mushrooms, but the worn wooden floor was scrubbed to a dull shine and warmed with hand-tied rugs. Several tables were against the downstairs walls, each covered with bottles, jars, and casks of strange things, but everything was clearly labeled and well-organized. A rook of the Wardwood was sulking on the mantle, her feathers most thoroughly ruffled as she watched Maggie stump across the floor with a baleful silver-glowing eye. "So," Maggie continued as she headed to her tables, "What seems to be the trouble?"
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Posted: Mon Feb 17, 2014 12:20 pm
Stephen's suspicions that this was a bad idea were confirmed shortly after his knock. He took a cautious step back as the old woman within croaked, eyes widening in response to the ensuing chaos, but the ring of a younger woman's voice kept him in place. That, and seconds later, the door was wrenched open, and he'd be damned before he was caught fleeing.
He regarded the young woman in the door curiously, body poised to dart away, but he remained in place, gaze inquisitive as she began her spiel, and then paused as her eyes met Fallon's. As she turned to retreat back into the cottage, door left ajar for them, Stephen turned to stare at Fallon, second guessing Brann's judgement and his own decision to visit this hedgewitch. To late now. With a sigh, Stephen watched Fallon enter first, and then followed, closing the door behind them. It took his eyes a moment to adjust, and he blinked as he glanced around, taking in the older woman in the corner, and the glowing eyed rook on the counter. Were all hedgewitches this...odd?
His attention was brought back to the young woman as she spoke, and he was left to assume that she was the one he was here for. Fallon had veered off to inspect something or other, and Stephen stepped closer to the woman, hands in his pockets. "I uh...Was in a fight about a week ago. My wounder...hasn't quite healed yet. Brann, from the apothecary, recommended your services." He said, retrieving his hands from his pockets to grasp the edge of his shirt, lifting it to show her the long cut along his left side.
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Posted: Mon Feb 17, 2014 2:06 pm
Maggie glanced up to check the wound and narrowed her eyes at the sight of the redness and inflammation around the edges of it. "Yep, I have something that should help," she said with a slight shake of her head as the raven hopped over, clambering around the now rather crowded room instead of attempting to fly. "It's a good job you came. Another day and that would've gone septic for sure. Might do so yet."Handfuls of various herbs, berries, and flowers- some dried, some fresh- went into a rather large mortar along with some manner of oil, all under the rook's watchful glowing eyes. "Stop staring at me, you useless sod, and go put the kettle on," Maggie said flatly without looking up from her work as she took up her pestle. While it wasn't immediately apparent who she was speaking to, the raven gave an offended croak and fluff of its feathers. "Hag," it accused- the same voice that had first greeted Stephen- then flapped the short distance to where a kettle hung on a hook off the fire. The rook landed with enough force on the hook to start it swinging, the kettle coming to rest over the fire as the rook made its escape to somewhere less flammable up in the rafters. "I am making you a poultice," Maggie explained, an edge of weariness in her tone- it sounded like she gave this speech a lot. "It will be warm, which will help the pain, and the herbs should keep it from festering, but you must keep the wound clean and return here daily until I tell you otherwise," she instructed, looking up at Stephen for the first time in the last several minutes with a raised eyebrow. "Think you can handle that?"
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Posted: Thu Feb 27, 2014 2:42 pm
Stephen wasn't sure what septic meant, but by the young woman's tone, it definetly wasn't anything favorable. He was flooded with relief, knowing he had made it in time, and hearing the hedgewitch could help him. He stood off to the side and watched as she prepared a concoction, to distracted to pay much attention to Fallon. Her next words startled him - he flinched, annoyance flaring. Did she have to be so rude? She could have asked nicely!
He opened his mouth to retort sharply, but before he could utter a word, the bird he'd paid no mind to squawked a response, and if Stephen had been startled before, it was nothing compared to now. He leapt back, eyes wide, mouth agape. The bird...did it...did it just speak?! He'd assumed before that the croaked voice belonged to the elderly woman, and had certainly not been expecting this. Talking birds...who knew. Before he knew it, Fallon would be speaking. Stephen snorted, As if.
Clearing his throat, Stephen rolled his shoulders and readjusted himself, pretending as though his little "fright" hadn't just occurred. Just in time too, he suspected, as seconds later, the young woman addressed him - he was sure of it this time. "Daily?" Stephen echoed incredulously. Was that really necessary? He didn't particularly want to return here on a daily basis for the unmentioned length of time. But if it helped him avoid this "septic" thing..."Uh, sure, I can manage that." He was distracted by a sudden noise as he answered, and he turned his head watch Fallon nose through some of the woman's things across the room. "Fallon! The hell are you getting into now?!"
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Posted: Thu Feb 27, 2014 9:06 pm
The old woman at the stove snorted at her daughter's assertion that he'd need to come back so often too. "Puh. Daily? When I was doing this I wouldn't have had him come back for a week! You don't know what you're doing, girlie, that's what your problem is." Maggie's shoulders had just begun to tense when her mother started speaking, but then Stephen shouted at his deer and she about jumped out of her skin. Sibyl flapped on her perch on the mantelpiece and cawed. "Thief! Thief!""QUIET!" Maggie barked, earning startled, choked squeaks from both her mother and the bird. "What are you getting into?" she asked, half to herself as she leaned to see what the Guardian might be poking around in. Upon seeing the particular basket he'd chosen, her eyes widened slightly and one eyebrow raised. "Best not have been taking anything out of there," she informed the buck, her tone serious.
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Posted: Sun Mar 09, 2014 12:27 pm
Amidst the commotion, Stephen slowly edged his way toward Fallon, hoping to reach the guardian before he bolted. Upon being addressed, Fallon perked, raising his head, the handle of the basket nestled in his mouth. The guardian tensed, still as stone, his light eyes on Maggie. "Oh no..." Stephen breathed, recognizing that look. Fallon was seconds away from fleeing, and he would likely be taking the basket with him. With a great amount of luck, they would be able to cut Fallon off at the door...but the guardian had been known to run Stephen down. With a small amount of luck, Fallon wouldn't make it far into town before either returning or surrendering...but Stephen doubted that. On the worst of days, Stephen chased Fallon for hours, and having just been challenged by a stranger...well, a swift end wasn't looking promising.
"No...nonono!" Stephen shouted, just as Fallon darted around Maggie and out the front door. "You've got to be...Fallon!" Irritated, Stephen pushed through and ran out after Fallon, who looked to be headed toward the Wardwood.
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Posted: Sun Mar 09, 2014 7:11 pm
Maggie was close on his heels, followed by the fluttering wingbeats of Sibyl, and chased out the door by Maggie's mother's exasperated and disapproving sigh. Some days, it really was not worth getting out of bed. So here she was, an herbalist, chasing a wounded man, who was trying to keep up with a fleeing deer. On foot. A fleeing magic deer. What a goddamn day. At least Sibyl wasn't having trouble keeping the pace, but whether the recalcitrant bird could be coaxed into helping her find her tools was another thing entirely. "What... the heck...is he... doing?" she managed between breaths.
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Posted: Sun Mar 16, 2014 9:59 am
His side ached with each running step, but he kept the pace, barely aware of Maggie's presence. It was a futile attempt, chasing a deer down, and it was during these times that Stephen wondered if it was the chase Fallon sought, and if Stephen was only making the issue worse by giving the guardian what he wanted. But neither could Stephen not run after Fallon, time after time - it was a strong impulsive urge, like a string tugging him forward against his will. He spared a quick glance back at Maggie, but took a minute to answer.
"He gets...like this. I don't...understand why." Fallon had been a handful since emerging from his totem, and Stephen meant it when he said he didn't understand why. He speculated often, but as Fallon couldn't speak, it was difficult to properly conclude.
Fallon broke the treeline, and Stephen charged ahead, but once just inside the forest, he lost sight of his guardian. Stephen lurched to a halt, chest heaving from the exertion of the chase, and glanced around. "Where...could he have gone?" He voiced the question aloud, but it was more rhetorical - he didn't expect Maggie to have an answer.
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Posted: Mon Mar 17, 2014 10:14 am
"No idea," Maggie answered anyway, also winded, and flopped down on a mossy patch to catch her breath. She waved a hand to Sibyl, who croaked an irritated protest but nevertheless spun away through the trees to see if she could catch sight of the errant buck. "Feeling okay?" she asked her new patient, noting that he seemed a mite pale, probably due to the pain of running with such a wound. "I shouldn't have let you help chase with that gash, but I need that basket," she explained with a sigh.
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Posted: Sat Mar 22, 2014 11:25 pm
Stephen eyed the strange bird as it flew off; it was obviously an intelligent animal, much like guardians, so he deemed it a clever idea, sending it off to search. The bird likely stood a better chance at spotting Fallon from the sky, then they did at ground level, on foot. Exasperated, he lowered himself to sit near her, dragging the back of his hand across his brow. He glanced at her curiously at her inquire, wondering what she meant...And then nodded slowly when the pain kicked in, now that he was resting. He paused, grimacing, and then nodded again with a sigh, doing his best to ignore the throbbing. "Yeah...I'm good."
He glanced away, surveying the treeline, searching for a guardian he knew he wouldn't find while he sat back. He frowned, intent on rising and continuing the search; he knew the odd bird stood a better chance, but it didn't feel right, standing by idly. Before he could, the woman's next statement caught him off guard, and his gaze snapped back to her. "What?" He blurted, irked. "Let me? I was the first one out that door, as I should have been; he's my guardian." He was being rude, he knew, but he didn't like the way she'd implied he was only out here as a favor to her. The pain and his own annoyance toward Fallon weren't helping matters either. Snorting indignantly, he pushed himself up to stand, and started forward. "Dunno how important that basket is to you, but Fallon means a lot to me; I can't just sit by. I'm continuing on." He explained stiffly, barely bothering with a quick glance over his shoulder to gauge her reaction, and whether or not she might follow.
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Posted: Tue Mar 25, 2014 7:06 pm
Maggie scrambled to her feet as he moved to depart, trying to grab his arm, though her poorly balanced stance had her nearly stumbling in the process. "Hey, wait!" she cried, sounding both annoyed and worried, though by her scowl she might kick him in the shin if he suggested the former. "You're my patient. That means I'm responsible for your welfare, and you really shouldn't be out here with that wound. You need rest, not to wear yourself out chasing a thief of a deer through the woods," she said, managing to keep... most... of her irritation out of her tone as she recovered her footing. "So yes, I should not have let you come," she continued, following him into the trees with an ever-deepening scowl. "What the hell did he want with my basket, anyway?"
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Posted: Wed Apr 09, 2014 12:02 pm
Stephen rolled his eyes, huffing with annoyance. She wasn't going to leave him alone, was she? He should have listened to his gut - he'd had his reservations about visiting the hedgewitch, and clearly, for good reason. He made a mental note to tell Brann off for recommending the insufferable woman.
He ignored her for a short time, stomping deeper into the forest. He was working on a short fuse, but the moment of silence calmed him somewhat, allowing rational thought. He was being harsh, perhaps unfair. He had come to her, and she was only trying to help. So with a mental grumble and a sigh, Stephen glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his mouth a tight line. "It's not the basket he cares for. It could have been anything; you just reacted to the basket." Did that make sense? He decided to elaborate further. Coming to a halt, he slid his hand through his hair, disheveling it further, and shrugged, irritation clear in his tone. "I don't know. Fallon is a handful; he enjoys a bit of mischief. There's not much I can do about it, but he is my guardian. So...I have to find a way to manage it." Fallon was his responsibility, and if that meant fleeing into the forest whilst wounded, then that's exactly what he'd do.
He looked at her then, eyebrow cocked. "Your bird...how will we know if he's found Fallon?"
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