[Torân] The hunter or the hunted?

[Drakkim]

Julian knelt in the shadows of his hiding place, almost completely concealed. He checked his hand crossbow yet again, making sure that all was in order as he approached his prey. He watched the deer look around as his sent was carried by the sudden change in wind direction. Curse the oncoming storm! he thought as he dropped back into hiding. He waited patiently.

Patience was always a virtue. There was always more time. The wind always changed. And when it did, he again rose, slowly. And the deer was still there.

Such a dumb animal. So easy to predict. The hunter sneered as he took careful aim. He fired. He hit the deer in the front shoulder, all but crippling it, as was his intent.

The skins, he cared little about, but the meat... the meat he intended to use. He walked up to the deer, which was aggressively kicking, as though it could fight its way out of its predicament. Julian slowly pulled a shortspear from a sack on his back and twirled it to gain speed and momentum before slamming it into the deer's hind leg, shattering the bone. He watched as the stupid animal's aggression turned to fear as it realized its time was near. It was such a pity that it took that much for the situation to register. Not like his preferred prey. No, his usual prey would not have given up soeasily, but it always knew when it's time was up. It always knew when to stop struggling.

Julian would eat well, this night.

An extremely tall girl wandered the dense foliage of the forest alone, having lost sight of the road a while ago and cursing the innkeeper who had offered her directions. One pale, freckled hand clutched the long dagger that had been a family heirloom, handed down for generations. Her dark green eyes glanced down at it briefly, as though reassuring herself against the possiblility of an ambush.

Her most valuable possession, a harp, was slung in a case at her side; while a pack rested on her back. For the moment, the hood of her cloak had been pushed back, revealing a pale skinned face under quite a few freckles. A wavy cascade of fire red hair was pushed away from the girl's face with a headband, and was tied to the side in a loose ponytail.

The girl's dark eyes narrowed as she spotted a light in the distance, presumably from a campfire. It didn't appear to be too far off. She shrugged to herself, and cautiously began approaching said camp, wary of bandits or other unfriendly strangers. It took her some time to arrive at her intended destination, as she peered curiously to discover the camp's occupants. She saw only one person at said camp, roasting some sort of meat...smelling of venison. Her mouth began to water, and she decided to observe a little longer, before revealing herself.
After she could stand this self torture no longer, she delicately made her way to the fire, and addressed the man sitting there.

"Oi! Can I sit by the fire? Bit o' rough weather out here..."

[Drakkim]

Julian had long since been aware of the oncomer's presence, so he was not startled when she finally spoke up. In fact, he had been tracking her surreptitiously for some time. As was expected. To be caught unawares was not honorable.

To be caught unawares could be deadly.

The hunter had taken the time his visitor had spent skulking in the shadows to size her up. Her freckled skin marked her as human, despite her unusual height. He judged by her frontward approach with a weapon generally only effective with surprise that she was likely not a threat. Still, he took advantage of her breaking the silence to make a more direct examination. Seeing nothing in conflict with his earlier observations, Julian nodded his assent.

"Come," his voice was strangely powerful for his small frame. One accustomed to having his words heard, when he had reason to use them. "Join me at the fire. I have more than I can eat and it needn't be wasted. You'll find no shelter here, though."

He was more obvious about watching the female now, though he made sure his gestures implied neither threat nor geniality. The offer was for food and warmth. Anything more must be requested or earned.

Aerin gave a brief nod of gratitude to the strange man, and made her way over to the fire. After unslinging both pack and harp, she sat some distance away, enough to feel the warmth of the fire, but not close enough to get burned from stray sparks.
She shortly replied to his statement,
"That's fine. Thank you."
The lack of shelter didn't bother her in the least. She had experienced worse, such as sleeping outdoors in a thunderstorm, even though she usually traveled a short distance from town to town. How exactly she had wandered into this forest was beyond her knowledge. She'd find the road easily enough, with the aid of daylight.
Her eyes flickered from him to the fire, staring into the heart of it. Fire had always held an odd fascination for her, mainly composed of aversion.
The fire was beautiful, flames dancing strangely on the logs. Beautiful perhaps, but also dangerous. She thought of a few burns she had received as a child from being too close to a kitchen fire.
Her fingers brushed the case of her harp, and her interest in the fire immediately waned. She took the harp out of its case to examine it, relieved to find it in perfect condition. Her fingers diligently roamed over the instrument, reassuring herself that it was indeed, in tune. Despite knowing that it was enchanted to remain in excellent condition, she continued with her habit of checking the harp every day, just in case. Her inspection finished, she placed the harp gently in its case, with as much care as though it were a child.