felldenlogs | Long past their woodland days [Open]

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Long past their woodland days [Open]

WHO: Aragorn & YOU
WHAT: Fighting bandits, harvesting, combat & horse riding lessons, the festival
WHERE: The farmlands of the Stars Territory, Kyst & Other
WHEN: 13th through the 23nd
WARNINGS: Fantasy violence, perhaps suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol

❦Brigands & Bandits - Stars Territory

[ There are reports of bandits roaming the countryside as of late, many of which hail from the Moon territory. News of their crimes reached Aragorn's ears once he returned from his mission to Alvheim. Aragorn volunteered to protect the borders of the countryside without much fuss. He's a ranger at heart, a man of the wilds. If there's anyone who could track and find these bandits, it would be him.

So when he spots a group of bandits roaming through the woods, Aragorn dashes out of the bushes with his sword drawn ready to ambush the raiders. He quickly strikes at them but misses thanks to the uneven footing here. The woods are notoriously treacherous. There's all manner of twigs and branches ready to snare, the same for all the prickly shrubbery needling at his clothes.

The ground is slippery thanks to the rainfall overnight making it rather muddy. Orange and gold leaves pepper the muddy ground, but now there are hints of red among them. Splotches of blood dots the forest ground as the ranger keeps up with his attacks. Bandits are typically quick to flee at the first sign of danger, but these are no ordinary bandits.

These are desperate men who know no fear.]

There's nowhere to run!

[He shouts after skewering one of the bandits through with his sword. The man left him little choice when he charged forward with daggers at hand. The others fled the moment their friend is slain. They race down the slippery hill and into the cluster of trees below. After flicking off the blood from his sword, Aragorn gives chase.]

❦The Thrill of the Hunt - Moon & Stars

[The moment his feet touched the leaf-covered ground, Aragorn felt his entire body become anew. While he's deaf to the soothing call of the woods, Aragorn feels more at home here within the wilds than at some crowded little town. The ranger moves swiftly in-between the trees with an arrow at the bowstring and the bow pointed downwards. Within minutes, Aragorn spots a fluffy brown rabbit beside a small shrub. The creature is fully grown but relatively small for its age. Aragorn brings up his bow and fires. His arrow makes its mark with a slight thump. Wordlessly, Aragorn creeps over to the corpse and quickly plucks the arrow out of the rabbit's throat.

Hunting is one of Aragorn's favorite pass times. He's been hunting ever since he was just a child alongside Elladan and Elrohir, Lord Elrond's sons. While he's no elf, Aragorn certainly inherited their skill with a bow. He binds the rabbit's hind legs together with a rope but pauses when he hears something noisily stomping through the bushes.

It's a boar! A black boar with bushy thick fur and long ivory tusks. The creature doesn't see him. It storms past the bushes with a noisy grunt before eventually stopping near a large overturned log. Aragorn quickly gathers the rabbit within his satchel before following after the hog.

Killing a boar for tonight's feast will be difficult but worth all the trouble.]

❦Harvesting - Stars Territory

The hay is stacked unevenly.

[Words of criticism but they're not said out of cruelty.

Aragorn stares at the other volunteer with an unreadable gaze and the makings of a scowl upon his face. He volunteered his services in aiding the farmers here with their chores, but his companion seems hellbent in making the task more arduous than necessary. After spending most of the day tending to the animals, the last bit that needs to be done lies with the harvest itself. Most of the crops have been gathered already, but trying to find a proper way to store them is the problem. It's been years since Aragorn participated in such mundane work, but thankfully he doesn't tire easily.

The ranger arches his brow as he regards the other with a look of surprise.]

I'm merely stating the truth.

[He proclaims in his defense as the edges of his lips tilt upward in amusement.]

There's no need to take offense.

[Judging the laughter trying his best to conceal, Aragorn find some enjoyment in their misery.]

❦Rœchbin - Kyst (The Stables)

[Much to Aragorn's chagrin, he gets asked many questions from fellow outlanders about how to ride a horse. This quite an oddity, especially since Aragorn hails from a world where horses are the only form of transportation available. He knew how to ride a horse since childhood, so the idea that there are grown men and women who don't baffle him. In hopes of rectifying this problem, Aragorn decided to conduct a lesson here within the spacious stables in Kyst.

Once he's finished brushing Huinéva's long black mane, he sets forth to the center of the stables with his dear black horse by the reins. She's a pretty thing, an old mare with soulful brown eyes that nearly look as black as the rest of her. He brought Huinéva for two gold coins when the horse master still called her by her stable name. She is a worthy investment despite her years, both even footed and even-tempered. The horse trots amiably behind Aragorn as he brings her towards the others.]

There's nothing to be afraid of. [He says as he gently pats the horse's snout.] You can pet Huinéva without fear of being bitten.

Most horses are rather docile.

[This bound to be a timely lesson, but a worthwhile one. Anyone seeking how to ride a horse will find no better teacher.]

❦Apple-Picking - Moon & Stars

[There's nothing quite like the laughter of children. Aragorn finds himself instantly savoring the sound as he assists them in apple-picking. He didn't trust the little ones to handle the task themselves, especially since it includes climbing onto a rather tall ladder. So, he volunteered to help them and gather as many apples as possible for the feast later.

Of course, the children are too busy gobbling up the fruits of his labor rather than assisting him. It's somewhat comical, honestly. Aragorn cannot help but look a tad exasperated, but the smile he wears undermines the frustration he feels.]

The apples aren't meant to be a snack.

[He chastises with a grin.]

We'll have none for later.

❦Wildcard

(if none of the prompts work for you, feel free to drop me a line at ardamire, or come up with your own.)

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[Amusement is all well and good, but it's been one heaven of a day helping to prepare the small settlement for the oncoming cold and Crowley is, even at the best of times, a bit cross. Right now? He'd actually made an effort to stack the bales by hand this time, instead of just miracling it all into place, and he's not entirely thrilled that his hard work is being criticized.

With a frown, a furrow of his brows, and a a quick snap of his fingers the hay rearranges itself into what's hopefully a neater pile. He's not certain what even qualifies 'neat' when it comes to this, he's just winging it. This is so far out of his area of expertise that it's not even on the map.]

Better?

[His tone might be a bit annoyed, but for the most part he's harmless.]

Edited 2019-09-14 19:11 (UTC)

[Par usual Sarah has been at the same task she seems to end up in no matter which farm she goes to - watching kids. When she's not actively harvesting herself she seems to end up with some kid or another or at the very least keeps an eye on them when she comes across them.

Today is no different and she's ended up out here in this small bit of farming space where the fruit trees stand both to help harvest and to help the kids out.

She huffs out a light breath at the comment.]

I don't know, there's an awful lot of apples.

[The snap of his fingers and the sorcery that follows causes Aragorn pause. He blinks his eyes a few times in subtle confusion before turning towards the bespectacled man with a frown. Ever since arriving in Fellden, Aragorn has met all sorts of wizards, creatures, and monsters alike. However, this is the first time he met anyone quite like this fellow here.]

...Impressive. [He mutters after taking a closer look at the towering stacks of hay.] Still crooked but I suppose this will have to do.

[The stoicism of the elves has rubbed off on him over the years. He's practically looking down his nose at this magical feat out of sardonic humor. It's all fun and dandy until someone pisses off a demon.]

Are you any good at harvesting corn?

These apples are meant for the feast later.

[The ranger protests while fighting back the urge to smile. While he's grateful for Sarah's aid in watching the little ones, she's almost as impish as they are. Aragorn lets out an exasperated sigh once the littlest one of their merry troupe, a child about five or six with curly blond hair and cute little freckles, bites into a red juicy apple he just tossed down into the basket. He gives the child a mighty scowl, but he can't stay angry for long.]

Worse than hobbits.

[It's said with an almost wistful sigh. He misses Frodo and the others.]

[Another day, another bandit raid. Bigby stands by his prior evaluation that these guys are a pain in the ass. No matter how badly they're beaten, they don't stop — they just slink back to whatever hole they call a hideout, recoup their losses, and come back the next day. He's gotta give them credit for their tenacity, but honestly, taking more than two seconds to think about it, is that what it really is? Is it stubbornness or survival? Is it stupidity or just simple, plain refusal to lay down and die?

He has his concerns about the sun-branded ones, but the ones he's currently tailing through the woods don't seem like that at all — just more hungry defectors with a bone to pick with the Court, or the Temple, or both, it's a little hard to tell with some of them. Bigby knows what it's like to starve, to go so long without food you'd be willing to gnaw your own leg off just to make the pangs stop. That kind of survival instinct makes you fierce, so he's not surprised to see them fight back when the man — the ranger? — beats him to the punch and leaps out of the treeline with a fucking sword and starts going to town on them. Well, he can't just stand and watch, now can he?

Bigby doesn't have a weapon more or less effective than his fists, and he leaps into the fray with them soon enough. The sound of breaking, cracking bones and skulls slamming head-first into trees is a pretty good compliment to clashing steel, all things considered. Getting flung so hard into a tree that you nearly pinball off the branches is no worse than going back home empty-handed; either way, they're going to be limping back with an empty belly. And getting impaled with the aforementioned fucking sword is, all in all, on the same level as starving to death.

Eventually, they start running as they were inevitably bound to, and Bigby takes that as his cue to back down. That's pretty much a surrender in as few words as possible, and he'll take it.

Not sword-guy, though. He's after the group like a bolt of lightning with his bloodstained sword, and Bigby doesn't even have a chance to breathe before he's forced to run after him, yelling.]

Hey—!

[Believe it or not, he's yelling at Aragorn, not cheering him on.]

All of these apples but that one it looks like. Are hobbits notorious apple thieves too?

[Yes, there's amusement in her tone. He's right on the nose about her being as bad as the kids in some respects, the part of her that Moppet gave back just a little too much of a child at times maybe. Or it's likely she's just glad to hear something besides talks of war and how much or little the Emperor or Priestess ought to be trusted.

She turns to the rest of the kids gathered. They're a motley crew of ones around the blond haired boys age, at most seven and at the least around five.]

Maybe if you all help pick some of the ones on the ground, we can get to that feast a whole lot faster.

[She pauses there and adds in a lightly amused tone of voice:]

Or at least dinner.

[The question wins a smile from the grumpy ranger.]

They're more known for their bottomless stomach more than anything else.

[He admits with a hearty laugh that overshadows his mood.]

Hobbits are no bigger than the children here, but they would take great offense to that.

[Aragorn can't stop smiling even after he resumed work. He continues picking apples from the trees above. The ladder he's on is a little wobbly, but Aragorn is careful. He purposely picks the brightest and reddest apples out of the patch, leaving the unripe green apples alone for now. Eventually, Aragorn starts picking a few of the golden apples from the nearby branches. His basket of apples are starting to look like a colorful autumn display, and the kids are eager to tear into them.]

Appease them with an apple or two, but please let me finish.

[Fighting is second nature for Aragorn, much like killing. It's an unfortunate truth that he doesn't like to admit. After fighting his way through hundreds and hundreds of orcs during what would've been Rohan's final stand, Aragorn feels numb to it. As much as he yearns for the day he could lay down his sword, he seems eternally entwined with battle. That's why he gives chase so quickly after slaying one of the bandits. Fighting is second nature for Aragorn, and that is frightening.

He pauses suddenly when he hears someone trampling after him. The ranger quickly turns around to see an unfamiliar man chasing after him. In just this short amount of time, Aragorn managed to chase the bandits deep within the woods. He's surprisingly swift upon his feet for a mortal, but the man following after him seems even swifter.

Aragorn comes to a slow halt on top of a large gray stone. While he still has his sword drawn, he doesn't attack. Why? It's because the other is unarmed.]

Why are you following me?

[The man runs as fast as he fights, and although Bigby is able to keep up with him, he doesn't make it easy. Bigby can smell the adrenaline coming off him in waves, potent and salty-sweet with sweat and dirt and something that rolls and spikes, and doesn't abate the further they run into the woods. Bloodlust has its own scent too, just like fear. Even without the benefit of his nose, he could recognize it a mile away. The two of them are old friends by this point.

The chase takes Bigby deeper into the woods, and by the time he catches up with the ranger, his knees want to buckle and his lungs are complaining for every ounce of air he can suck in. Goddamnit. He's not meant to run in the woods on two legs like this. It just makes shit needlessly difficult. He stops to catch his breath, knowing that he's got the guy's attention now, figuring if he was going to keep up the pursuit he wouldn't have stopped.]

Because—

[Deep, deep breath. Exhaling, Bigby draws himself back up, hands dropping from his knees as he straightens.]

... Because they surrendered. They're not coming back, not after that. [Bigby's voice, while free from judgment, nonetheless has a heavy impression of finality to it.] It's over.

Edited 2019-09-15 00:23 (UTC)

Sound like my brother then.

[She's being quite serious about that. Toby could really put food away but then again he was fifteen. She does cast a glance to the kids while she tries to imagine what these hobbits must look like. She thinks of Hoggle for a moment but Hoggle was a dwarf. Maybe they were something like that?

At the man's request she huffs out a gentle laugh and decides it's probably best to try to distract the kids. She mulls on that for a moment and then begins shooing them off the basket.]

Here we go, take these.

[She plucks up a few of the red ones since they do seem more numerous, doling them out to any kids trying to put their hands into the basket. In the meantime she's spotted an empty basket and comes across an idea that might just work. She hefts up this basket and gives it a little shake just to draw all of their eyes on her.]

Now then, once you finish those apples here's what I want you all to do. Let's see how full we can get this basket from all the ones that have already fallen, okay?

[That seems to work or at the very least the apples handed out are enough to appease the bottomless pits for now. The kids are more willing to shuffle off and leave the man's basket undisturbed.

Sarah herself plunks the basket down some feet away while the kids seem to decide it's as good a spot as any to plop down themselves and eat their apples.]

['It's over.' The words wash over him like water, cleansing him of that violent urge building within. Aragorn stands there for a moment in utter silence, his icy blue gaze becoming less frigid as the seconds march on. It's a peculiar feeling. He utterly prides himself in being control of his emotions, enough so that he constantly looks down at others who do not. However, something changed in Aragorn since the start of this grand adventure.

Something that he cannot explain in words.]

So it has. [He answers tersely as he sheathes his sword.] But they will return before dusk.

[The ranger silently hops down from the overturned stone. It takes him a moment to recognize the man before him but eventually, he does. Aragorn remembers seeing this man hanging around camp earlier. The two of them never spoke until now, but Aragorn never thought poorly of him. The ranger has a knack for observation. Despite Aragorn's earnest attempt to remember his name, he cannot. His mind is still in a cloudy haze and all of his thoughts are jumbled.

Aragorn approaches him slowly with a look of frustration lingering within his gaze.]

This must cease before others are hurt.

[His thoughts linger briefly upon the bandit he slew earlier.]

You have a sibling?

[A small smile lingers upon his lips as he continued filling up the baskets in relative peace. He has about two dozen apples in there now. Aragorn works mighty fast.]

How fortunate.

[When he was young, Aragorn always wished he had a brother to help chase away those lonely days. However, Elrond's sons treated him kindly enough to make him no longer yearn for siblings. As time grew on and the truth of his lineage was told, Aragorn was grateful he didn't have a brother. Forcing another to uphold this ill-fate would be far too cruel and probably would've to lead to great tragedy. It's not easy being the heir of the man who doomed all of humanity to grief. While Isildur was the one who severed the Dark Lord's ties with the One Ring, his refusal to destroy it doomed Arda.

Satisfied with the bounty he acquired, Aragorn is pleasantly surprised to see the little ones tending to their own basket. He cannot help but smi!e as he climbs down the ladder. The ranger affectionately pats the little blond's head before turning to Sarah with a wide grin.]

I think you might be better with children than I am.

[He admits with a gentle chuckle.]

I fear they like to frustrate me.

[He's chucking them in there like he's a master harvester, isn't he. Sarah can't help but be impressed by that. The only thing she could boast of harvesting before this week has been pumpkins as a kid or going to novelty apple orchards back when it was a trendy thing to do. She's been a city girl all of her life, at least until here and now.

She waves a hand dismissively as he pats the boy. The boy himself laughs appreciatively around the apple he's bitten into, looking mightily pleased with himself still. It's amazing how easily a little thing like that could please a kid, Sarah muses to herself. She wouldn't mind to have that bit of childhood back at the very least.]

They like to frustrate everyone. The trick is to develop a sense of humor about it, if you can anyhow.

[At that she quirks a slight half-grin. Or have a self-deprecating sort of humor like her, either of those works.]

Only the one and probably much to his annoyance too. I'm fifteen years older than him though so maybe I'm just meant to be more of an annoyance than a sibling.

[She's lightly joking, honest.]

[The rage in the ranger's scent dulls and begins to plummet, but frustration ensures that it never actually dissipates. That's what keeps Bigby on edge. He returns the other man's slowly warming stare with an unreadable yet hard one of his own, and for a moment, the two of them regard each other like animals sizing one another up at the outset of a fight.

Then the sword slides back into its sheath with with a leathery whisper, and Bigby feels his pulse finally begin to slow as it smooths itself out into something close to normal — not relaxed, just at ease enough to actually talk to the man without feeling like he's going have to defend himself.]

It will. This isn't going to last forever.

[Bigby lets the other man come to him, tilting his head up enough to meet his gaze head-on. He thinks he remembers seeing this guy around the castle, mainly around the stables — which, as a matter of fact, is what he smells like. Beyond blood and steel, the ranger's scent is earthy and heady with the smell of beasts, horses and rabbits, wild boar and deer. They cling to every inch of his clothes, even his hair. Bigby wonders if he's a hunter. He certainly looks like one.]

This all started with the harvest. I think when it ends, so will all of... this.

[He gestures absently with a hand at the base of the rock face they've found themselves at.]

We'll handle them when they come back.

[Adrenaline kept him from identifying Aragorn at first. All he saw were men racing, some with daggers and another with a bow. Neither were much protection against a sword. Ghost charged ahead of him, knocking one of the bandits down as he bit into his arm, forcing him to drop his bow. Between Jon and Ghost, they wouldn't be able to catch them all, but maybe slow them down at least.

Jon spun on his heel, able to move carefully as he struck on of the bandits in the belly, slicing into him. It was like being back on the fields outside Winterfell. The blood, mud and shit were second nature for him now. He knew how to move and fight in almost any terrain at this point.

Blood coated Longclaw, making the red of the Valyrian steel stand out more plainly. Aragorn appeared in his sight light. He jerked his head to the left, gesturing where the others were running.]

There's two left!

[Life in the wilds served Aragorn well. He learned how to forage for food when he was quite young and learned how to harvest in the twilight years of his boyhood. Many of the lessons he learned during his travels ironically serve him now. He used to volunteer his services in Breeland, often helping the old farmers who lived on the outskirts.

This is all second nature for Aragorn.]

Is that it? Well, I need to work on my sense of humor then.

[He admits with a little chuckle. Sometimes Aragorn gets as really wound up within his thoughts just like everyone else. He forgets to find the humor in life, often scowling when situations go awry. Sarah reminds him to seek joy wherever he can, especially when dealing with the mischievous antics of children. For some strange oddity, poor Aragorn is popular with the children. This little bunch took it upon themselves to follow him around the second he volunteered for the apple picking. It's just like they knew they could raid his baskets with impunity.]

Siblings, the only enemy you can't live without.

[He says jokingly before kneeling down to lift the basket. It's quite heavy but Aragorn can manage on his own. He's just glad to be halfway done with this chore.]

I never had any siblings, but I was raised by another who had twin sons.

[Aragorn mostly stinks of animal because he mostly deals with animals. If he isn't tending to his horse, he's often rummaging through the forest in search of wild game. Hunting comes second nature for a ranger like him. The Rangers of the North are known for their almost wild nature, and the same is no different for Aragorn. While he does possess the sophistication of the elves, Aragorn is still a wild man at heart even with the blood of kings coursing through his veins.

There's no doubt in his mind that the man before him would pose a threat if they clashed. He's a little bigger than Aragorn in terms of mass but they're nearly the same height. Though, he probably has a few inches on him. The Dúnedain are known to be quite tall in stature. Even so, there's something that feels slightly off about this man. He has a rather wild and slightly unhinged look to him, something that causes Aragorn to feel a bit wary.]

After squandering the chance to route them, I would hope so.

[He answers stiffly with an unreadable gaze. Aragorn was hoping to put an end to this nonsense once and for all.]

The longer they pose a threat, the more difficult the harvest will be.

[His main concern lies with the people of this land, not the raiders or their desperate quest.]

We ought to return lest we want to be caught off guard.

[He stalks past the large man, his gaze less vicious than before.]

You have my gratitude.

[Children are rather like cats if you ask Sarah; they naturally gravitate to the people who look the least interested. She thinks briefly on how those kids the other day had really liked Bigby for all his thug-like looks. Aragorn isn't quite the same as far as looks (though even Bigby isn't all harshness all the time) but they aren't so far off from one another either in some other ways. Or that's the feeling she gets at least, for right or for wrong.

When he plucks up his own basket Sarah casts a glance to the other one the children have been trying to fill. It's maybe a quarter of the way done but with Mister Popular on the move the kids seem unwilling to stick around to see it completely filled. And naturally they want to do what they see him doing so.

Sarah huffs out a laugh as she gently dissuades the blonde-haired boy from completely toppling the basket onto himself in an attempt to hoist it up and instead she picks it up herself, speaking to the group again.]

Tell you what, I'll get the basket and you all can bring a few in hand if you want to.

[It's light enough that Sarah can cart this basket no problem and in the end she returns to the topic of brothers with the basket nudged against one of her hips.]

Two of them, hm? Sounds like you had double the trouble then.

Edited 2019-09-15 15:23 (UTC)

( She's been told that riding out to the farms is the fastest way to get there, that walking is time consuming and would leave her better off staying at the Court to help in the kitchens instead. But Clary is determined; she wants to help, and needs to learn a better way to actually get herself around the land without relying only on her feet, the mirrors, and her portals once she can create them.

But good god this is terrifying.

And hey! You know! She has done scarier things!! Like fight demons, and go up against scary warlocks, and survived her fair share of altercations with vampires. Her hard line might be horses, though.

The stable attendant working with her has been very patient thus far, but even he's beginning to look harried by Clary's hesitation. It's why he directs her to where someone else is going to begin teaching an even lower-level lesson on getting familiar with horses, rather than just trying to get Clary onto one.

So when a familiar face comes out with a mare that looks like it might be able to out-patience Clary's fear, she actually finds herself a little more relaxed. )

Well, seeing a familiar face sure doesn't hurt.

( he's not exactly looking to learn how to ride. Peter is trying to be helpful, and it seems the most help he can be right about now is carrying things places. he was told to drag a barrel of apples into the stable, he presumes for the horses since there's some holes and soft spots in them, but he has no earthly clue. he doesn't even know if horses like apples or if that's just something that happens in cartoons. he's just doing what he was told, and he was planning on disappearing as soon as it was accomplished...

except one of the horses is out of their stalls and he was not expecting it and he freezes up like it's a wild bear loose in the stable instead of a very complacent, mild mannered horse. in Peter's defense, he's a city boy; the most he's seen of horses are the truly depressing ones trotting around central park at Christmas. he's never really been this close to one, especially one free to ... did horses run up at you for being nervous and awkward in their presence? because if they did, he's in trouble. even being quite tall, Peter does not feel tall enough when faced with a horse. )

O-oh. Okay, ( he agrees with the stranger, and forces himself to put his hands down from where they're hiked midair like the horse was in the middle of arresting him instead of just standing there mildly staring at him. ) Pet it? Are you sure? How do I know it wants to be pet?

[Despite all of his protests about harming these bandits, Aragorn accidentally drew first blood. The man left him little choice when he lunged at the ranger with a sword at hand. Aragorn quickly incepted him and slew him with just one stroke. This sent the rest of these bandits fleeing in terror towards the woods. Aragorn plotted on bringing at least one of them alive, but the bloodlust is almost too great. It would probably be for the best to put them down, a merciful death, rather than to let them escape.

He was hot on the trail of one of the bandits when something large and white dashes forth from the bushes. Aragorn skids to a halt once the enormous dire wolf starts mauling the archer's arms, his eyes wide with surprise.]

Ilmarë?

[Aragorn mutters before Jon's call snaps him in action. He quickly searches for the youth and finds him with the blade of his greatsword covered in blood. The telltale stench of death is upon them both, a reminder of his failure to bring these brigands in alive.]

Don't fall behind!

[He shouts before taking off deeper into the woods. The path here is muddy and slippery, but neither serves as much hindrance for a ranger used to the wilds. Aragorn follows the two bandits with the absurd speed of a wild cat. Maybe if he could find their lair, Jon and he could round them all up and bring them into custody. That sounds like a plausible idea but once the bandits abruptly stop running and turn to face him, Aragorn knew it wouldn't be possible.

They attack him like rabid beasts, each brigand trying their best to skewer him with their swords. Aragorn parried their incoming strikes with great ease despite being forced into a more defensive stance against the brigands. He eventually grabs a hold of the elven dagger at his hip and starts fighting them with both blades drawn. Not many know that Aragorn is ambidextrous, it's a well-hidden secret only his companions know. With a dagger at his left and his sword at the right, Aragorn fights them in hopes of giving Jon and Ghost enough time to catch up.]

Edited 2019-09-16 00:26 (UTC)

Well, if it isn't the "Part-Time Exit Seeker".

[Aragorn cannot help but grin as he greets Clary. He can tell the poor woman is quite nervous but her fears are completely unfounded. Huinéva is a good horse. She's patient, kind and most of all, obedient. The black mare peeks over at Clary from the corner of her eyes. It neighs quietly at the woman, clearly trying to coax her over. Maybe Huinéva senses her unease, or maybe the horse simply thinks Clary has an apple to spare. Either way, Aragorn is eager to get this lesson started.]

There's nothing to fear, Clary. [His grin widens some as he walks Huinéva closer to her.] Huinéva won't nibble on you.

[Though, the black mare has a habit of trying to nibble on Aragorn's hair to get his attention.]

Pet her. She's quite curious about you.

[The youth's nervousness is almost palatable. It's quite obvious that this boy never rode a horse before, but why does he look so afraid? It makes Aragorn wonder if these outlanders even have horses within their world. Judging from his brief conversation with Syriya, it seems that some places don't. Still, it's rather bizarre in Aragorn's opinion.]

Relax. [He says with subtle urgency in his tone.] Huinéva not going to harm you.

[The black mare peers over at the boy when Aragorn brings her closer. She sniffs at him a little before neighing loudly at him as a mock welcome. Of course, Huinéva has no idea that her greeting might scare the poor boy. She's just excited to be meeting another person. A little too excited.]

( while they did have horses in his world, very few of them were in a metro area. Peter has never traveled out of the city far, certainly never far enough to reach farmland. his exposure to farm animals is embarrassingly limited, leaving him a fish out of water whenever presented with some. most of them seem fairly harmless and he tries to just keep his distance, but he is a little afraid as far as the horse is concerned. if only because the animal is gigantic, it could do some damage if it wanted to. would he survive if he got kicked or bit? yeah, probably, but it doesn't sound like something he wants to experience all the same.

relax. he tries, unknotting his shoulders to sloop a bit, though Peter does look like he's considering if he has enough space to inchworm along the stalls to the relative safety of the outdoors. he's trying not to be a hilariously tall baby about this, so Peter steels himself in place as the horse gets closer...

and immediately bails a few steps at the adorable whinny. ) Oh god, ( he exclaims, and while he never projected cool and collected at any point in this conversation, he's certainly not making himself seem any less anxious. so much for relaxing. ) Oh. Okay. That was just a horse noise. ( that's fine... he can handle a horse noise...... ) Do I pet her nose? Do horses like that?

[Crowley’s shoulders might square just the tiniest bit at the unintended praise, but any ego-stroking that could be gleaned from the man’s words is summarily dashed as he continues on. Instead, the smug, self-satisfaction that had been building immediately takes a turn back to annoyance and for a brief moment Crowley weighs the consequences of just miracling the blessed hay into an unorganized pile. Deciding that the temporary victory isn’t worth the effort of cleaning it up, he instead settles for a sardonic roll of his eyes that’s thankfully hidden behind his glasses.]

If it’s so crooked, I’m sure you can do better, hm?

[He’d thought it’d been perfect, it was supposed to be perfect. Perhaps it would behoove him to learn a little bit of humility. But he’s being questioned, and really there’s no good answer that he can think of. Unfortunately, that means that he’s just blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.]

Never did it before. Can’t be too hard, they’re all doing it just fine out there.

[Words he will likely have to eat in the near future.]

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Long past their woodland days [Open]

Harvesting

Apple-Picking

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bandits!

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Bandits

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riding lessons

Stables!!

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