Darmus By Night

Cervantes:

"Alright, come along, we'll need you in all honesty, just don't get mad when you see things... Horrible things... Things even I wouldn't do..." He shurgged his shoulders then and shifted in his seat.
 
Thorne:

Smiling slightly, Thorne walked out the door of the cabin, going to prepare Talesin for the day ahead. As she crossed the threshold of the cabin she shot over her shoulder. "You make it sound like you are making a huge consession, Cervantes, when all you are doing is keeping on an employee." She wore a quiet smile as she picked up her saddle bags.
 
Cervantes:

Getting up, Cervie had a strange look in his eyes. He walked up to Thorne, allowing her horse to stand between them. "Is that what you think Im doing? I don't usually get these bad feelings, but when I do... I take em seriously. I mean, look at me, what sort of shit do you think I have to fear? Not much, in all honesty, but..." He paused, looked around nervously for a moment then back to her. "But... I just have this sence of something bad... Very bad... Worse than me..." He wasn't joking, it was evident in his eyes.
 
Thorne:

Looking up, Thorne grew serious again. "Cervantes, just because I've a few interesting things in my past does not mean that I can not handle myself. I've handled alot of things in my career, and I know how to take care of myself. Thank you for your concern, but I am a magess, and a damn fine horsewoman. I don't go down that easily." She then smiled slightly again. "Besides, you're not as bad as you want to be, Cervantes, somewhere in there is a softie."
 
Cervantes:

Opening his mouth to say something, Cervantes seemed to be taken aback all of a sudden. He closed his mouth a second later, only to open it again, his second attempt, it failed too... He gave it a third try, but still, to no avail. He stopped trying and turned away, stalking off into the woods, his shoulders slumped. It was the oddest reaction...
 
Thorne:

Watching Cervantes, one of Thorne's eyebrows shot up. "Cervantes?" She realized suddenly that he probably hated being called a softy. Probably thought it meant weakness or something. "Cervantes, I just meant that you are nicer that you first appear." She looked genuinely concerned.
 
Cervantes:

"I... I gotta go do... Something..." He grumbled as he looked over his shoulder. As he slipped out of sight, he grumbled again. "Nice? Pft."
 
Thorne:

Tilting her head to the side, Thorne shrugged. "All right, whatever you say Cervantes." She started to brush out Tal's coat, making sure there are no burs or dust that would irritate if trapped under his saddle pad.
 
Cervantes:

Disappearing into the forest, Cervie found himself a nice secluded spot and sat, he reached into his belt pouch, and pulled from it a book that was at least twice the capacity the pouch seemed to allow. He flipped it open and schimmed through it. And slowly he began to sing words, strange words, in lilting tones...
 
Thorne:

Working slowly, Thorne carefully brushed out Talesin. She'd done a quick, but efficent, job last night, so this time she took care to relax, letting the familiar work soothe her nerves frayed from the night. Her fingers worked over the horse's coat slowly as she hummed softly, an old melody meant to calm.
 
Cervantes:

Reaching the end of the song, Cervie flipped a few pages with a sigh as he looked about to make sure he was alone. Then he picked up into another song, his one sticatto and sharp...
 
Thorne:

Continuing to work on Talesin, Thorne thought. She wondered if she'd hurt Cervantes feelings by actually saying that he was a nice guy. She wondered what the hell to say to Valdimer. She wondered if Rocky was all right, as she hadn't seen him around. She wondered about KyLissa, and the interesting abilities she possessed. Mainly, Thorne just thought about the feeling of being home, with a clean house, horses running in their areas, and being alone again. She started to absentmindedly braid Tal's mane into tiny braids, tying them off with the small ribbons she kept for such a purpose.
 
Cervantes:

Screwing up his face, Cervantes hit a bad note. He cut the song short rereading something from his book. Then tried it again, still hitting the sour note. He started to get agrivated with it, glaring down at the open book as though it were the books fault. He clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling the urge to rip it to shreads. "Calm down, calm down, damn ye..." He cursed himself as he closed the book and placed it next to him and stood. He walked away from the book for a moment, his back to it, stomped his feet, shook his fists and shouted violently.

Stopping just as suddenly as he had began, Cervie gave a deep sigh and turned back to the book, pondering if he should give it another go. It'd been a long time since he'd actually needed his spells, not since he'd been infected in fact. Giving a second sigh, Cervie trudged back toward the book. He didn't get more than three steps before he started to stomp up and down again, growling as he did. He stopped, adjusted his shirt and strode back to the book with purpose...
 
Thorne:

Continuing to work on Talesin's mane, Thorne picked up on some faint traces of magic being worked within the forest. She dismissed it as the workings of their hostess, but then, a bad note in a spell, or a wrong word was hit, not once, but twice. She wondered what was going on. Gathering her own book to her side, Thorne started out in the direction Cervantes had gone, thinking to warn him of the magic being worked.
 
Cervantes:

Returning to his singing, Cervie actually hit the note this time. He smiled to himself then. "There! That'll teach ya now won't it!" He grumbled as he stabbed his finger at the words on the page he read from. With a sigh, he flipped through some more in his book. "Well... Onto the next one..." He looked up and about nervously before he set to it. Propping his feet up under him, he sat somewhat cross legged as his voice fell to a deep and rich tone.
 
Thorne:

Looking around, unsure of which way Cervantes had gone, Thorne decided to follow the magic's trail, carefully picking her way through the forest, with the wind at her back. She hoped that maybe Cervantes had gone the other way. She didn't think that being were would turn a person immune to magic.
 
Cervantes:

Stalling in mid song, Cervie looked up, someone was coming... He hopped to his feet, tucking the book back into his belt pouch. He placed a hand on the hilt of his scimitar. Sniffing the air quietly, he calmed instantly, taking his hand away from the sword. Without even needing to see her, he knew it was Thorne. He walked over to a particularly large tree and leaned against it, waiting for her to show.
 
Thorne:

Stopping, Thorne realized that the magic was now only a power signature, as if the caster had stopped. She continued, moving finally into a clearing. She nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Cervantes! You scared the living whits out of me!"
 
Cervantes:

"I... Did?" He said, a smile slowly growing on his lips as he pushed away from the tree and walked toward Thorne, his head lowered, flashing her a wicked smile as he did.
 
Thorne:

Nodding, Thorne looked at Cervantes, and then at the clearing. It was funny, this seemed to be the axis of the power, yet nobody but. . . Wait a minute. "Cervantes? Would you mind explaining to me what was going on with magic in this clearing about 30 seconds ago?" She had that look of patient waiting, clearly, he was going to have to answer her.
 
Cervantes:

"Magic? What magic?! Where?!" He looked about curiously, then just as curiously at her. "I don't see any magic..." He added innocently.
 
Thorne:

Wearing a look that clearly conveyed that she was not buying it, Thorne stood there. She crossed her arms. "Cervantes, there is no way in the skies above that I am going to believe that act. Innocence, you wouldn't admit, and you would only act like this if you were guilty. You remind me of my mentor's son in that."
 
Cervantes:

"Hrmph, what about your mentor's son?" Cervie asked, obviously trying to change the subject. "He's not the 'other' guy is he?" Cervie crossed his arms then and huffed again, being over theatrical about the whole thing.
 
Thorne:

Laughing at the thought, Thorne reguarded Cervantes. "The Fact that he's 8 years old, more trouble than 6 colts who've learned where the apples are, and will play innocent about anything. Cervantes, there is a power signature that ends in this clearing, and from what I can see on the ground. . ." She gestured to the leaves and other bits of Forest floor, only disturbed by Cervantes' and her own foot prints. ". . . There seems to have been nobody but you in this clearing."
 
Cervantes:

"Fine!" Cervie shot suddenly, throwing his hands in the air. "I can do fucking magic, you happy? Damn it... Gah!" He turned his back to her and folded his arms, bristling with annoyance. "Damn magess and her damn magic..." He grumbled to no one in particular.
 
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