(OOC: Ok, um, just wanted to play with this intro I made for a character I'm working with. Please keep the magical abilities to reasonable levels and be literate (I mean no sparkly vampires, super-powerful dragons or whatever) - oh, and NO PROFILES! Describe your character in-post; I will not reply to people who post profiles!!!)


The pounding wouldn't stop.

The drums rumbled in time to the thunder, the flashes of lightning joining with the fires encircling her. The rain seemed to threaten the fires, drenching the surrounding woods, turning the paths into mud and the land into a swamp. Yet the dirt she danced upon did not cling to her feet, and indeed, she seemed virtually untouched as she moved, spinning and leaping about a bowl filled with ingredients for her spell, the dark liquid glinting in the flickering light of the storm and the fires.

She was dancing in the open space of a clearing, with five torches surrounding her at equal intervals. The bowl that sat at the very center of the circle was filled with herbs and bones, drenched in red. It seemed barbaric; her eyes rolled back up in her head, seeming to chant nonsensically at a glance. If given a chance to echo in the ears, however, the chanting was reminiscent of a pattern, flowing up and down, every pause and shriek hauntingly echoed by the flash of fire and the cascade of thunder. The bones on her necklace looked like they came from small animals, combined with feathers and beads of wood, possibly the other pieces of the animals that were sitting in the old, misshapen wooden bowl. Her chanting and dancing grew more and more frantic as the storm began to spin and snarl, the leaves being torn from their branches.

Lightning roared from the sky as the scene reached its climax, striking all five of the torches at the same instant. She started laughing hysterically, softly at first, letting it echo in unison with the cackling thunder. Even as she laughed, the chanting continued, as if the storm itself had taken it up for her.

Her arm lazily came up to cover her face as the sun began to shine in her eyes, a soft groan escaping her. Why was her head pounding so? Did it not go as planned? She peered at the sky through the cracks between her fingers, seeing the peaceful blue sky of day. The storm was gone, a distant memory of a tumultuous night. She stretched out along the dirt and grass luxuriously, feeling where she must have landed after her frenzied dance had ended. Eyes finally adjusted to the bright sunlight, she looked around her, seeing that her five torches had been put out. She sat up slowly, peering at the bowl she had been dancing around, her lips curling into a pleased smile at seeing the result.

The herbs and bones were gone, leaving only a single, black claw that was sticky from the red that still lined the bowl. "Ah… I did manage it, you little imp," she whispered, and threw her head back for a cackle that seemed to very much be in spirit with her wild appearance. She pulled the claw out of the bowl, and walked over to where a pile of clothes sat, settling herself in next to the hole she had dug the night before. It was also lined in herbs, and into this little hole she tossed the claw, speaking another chant. The claw's landing on the leaves seemed to echo, and yet not; why would it echo after a toss of only a few inches? But the look of relief coming over her seemed to say there was more to the dance and the bones than there looked at first.

Hurriedly, she covered the claw and herbs, pushing the earth flat beneath her hands before feeling confident in her burial. She took a moment to look over herself, covered in the mud that still clung to the earth around the untouched circle, and little else. Her laugh this time was a mix of her relief, and also at the sheer absurdity of her appearance. Pulling the necklace of bones and beads off, she picked up the long cloak that had kept her clothes mostly dry, shaking the remaining dew off of it before starting to walk, relocating the river she had crossed the night before. It was a powerful, roaring monster after the storm, the little puddle from before now a swirling, restless pool. Leaving her cloak on the shore, she stepped down to the water, pleased to find she easily fit in the pool. Dunking herself in, she came back up with a spray of water, the dirt already beginning to come off. She settled herself in on a rock, and began to gently rub water over her skin, washing off the mud and grass stains. She seemed completely content on her own there, her empty eyes unable to echo the faint smile she held on her lips, glad that the dirty deed was done. She simply hadn't expected it to be quite so literally dirty.

Fae was quiet the entire time she washed, which seemed unusual; so many needed to hear something familiar in order to feel comfortable. She was happy listening to the various calls of the birds, few of which she could actually recognize. The gurgling of her pool was almost drowned out by the roar of the river itself, rushing over fallen logs and sedentary stones in a flourish of white caps and sprays. The water felt cold to the touch, but refreshed her, helping to ease the pounding in her head. The spell had taken more out of her than she had expected; to take this long after the summoning of the storm was not normal for her. Usually, she was mostly recovered by morning. Even so, she was happy. The demon she had gone after that night was now locked away in a little shrine to a forest guardian, and she could spell the hole to make it seamless to the mortal eye. She took a moment to stretch again, flipping over to rest on the long, smooth rock that rose up out of the water like a chair, allowing her to curl up against it, the warm sun glittering off of the beads of water on her pale back as she folded her arms, resting her head against them on the stone. Within moments, her breathing was slow and even, the amused smile fading from her lips as she fell back asleep, letting the swirling water play with her long, earth-brown hair as she enjoyed the sunlight.

He had scented the magic before he had felt the tickle of it on his skin. Even before he had heard the whispered words of his deity in his ear and mind. A storm raged, but that did not deter him. His quest, for the moment was a simple one. To watch and see what was happening. First, though, he needed to locate the source. Even being able to smell and feel the magic didn't make it extremely easy to find the source. He had to be close already though or he would not have been able to scent it. The smell of magic, like most scents, carried only so far, and the wind of the storm was tossing it about coupled with the scent of the rain really did not make such things easy.

A long black cloak swirled around his legs as he moved, urged about by the wind and the movement of his long legs. Once the material had nearly tripped him as it tangled about his legs and caught his foot as he took a step. He had regained his footing quickly, though just barely managing to not fall. The scent of magic, the feel of it on his skin, slowly began to grow stronger, indicating he was indeed moving in the right direction. The hood of his cloak was pulled up over his head, and it's shadow hid his face well. Almost too well. A flickering up ahead suggested to him that torches had been lit, and he assumed that whoever was casting whatever spell, was doing it near said torches.

The man stopped, as soon as he was close enough for things to come into view. Not extremely close and unnoticeable by the woman caught up in her spell. Or, rather, it seemed to him like a ritual. Long legs bent as he crouched, watching and listening as the woman worked her magic. He remained there. Watching even when the spell casting was done and the woman had collapsed. When the sun rose and the woman finally awoke, he was still there. Patiently watching as she moved about. Judging by her actions he assumed her ritual had been successful.

When she began to move off, with clothes in hand, he followed. Staying far enough behind so that she was barely just at the edge of his sight. Not yet ready for her to see him. Patiently he waited as the female bathed in the pool, and when she finally rested upon a rock he came a bit closer. Cautiously he moved gently, his footsteps light, he moved with the grace of an elf, or other creature of elven kind. Coming to the bank, he crouched there. Watching, waiting for the woman to awaken again.

He had tossed back the hood of his cloak. His features exposed for the world to see, or rather, the female when she awoke and noticed him. Red hair that reached down to his ankles laid down his back in a tight braid, most of it coiled in the hood resting at the back of his neck, leaving a long tail of the red hair to snake down his cloak. Hiding most of it from view. His eyes were intense, vibrant purple that seemed to shimmer and shine a bit. His skin was a bit pale, his features sharp and graceful like an elf or elven kind. His ears came to elegant points, though longer than any elf's.

This man was neither elf or human. His race was of elvenkind, and in fact elves were descended from his race. This man was Eladrin. He was one of few, once there had been many but now they were a dying race. His hair, eye color and the paleness of his skin were not common among his kind, he had become tainted by the magic he wielded and the god he served. Now this creature of magic and fey blood crouched there at the waters edge. Waiting, and not at all certain of what he should do when the female did notice him.

The woman didn't stir for a very long time; she looked so content on the rock, so comfortable and at home, like a water spirit resting in the river, sunning on the rock. But as if roused awake, she suddenly stretched, positioning herself even more luxuriously on the rock, as if it was a silken couch to drape her willowy form over. Her empty, liquid silver eyes slid open with a flutter of long, dark lashes, holding themselves only halfway open as she slowly pushed herself up off the rock, somehow having opened her eyes directly at the intruder of her little grotto.

Considering her appearance, the customary reaction would have been shock and horror, fear, or even just embarrassment at her lack of attire. But there was no duck for cover, no gasp or start. Instead, she propped herself up on the rock, a slow, yet curious smile spreading itself across her pale lips. Her pale skin stood out strongly against the dark brown and wet locks that still danced in the flowing water, adding to the look of being some sort of water spirit for anyone who had only just spotted her. Of course, the stranger in front of her knew better than that.

"Hello," she said, that faint, curious smile echoed in her soft, exceptionally human sounding voice. Somehow, her appearance suggested a voice that wasn't quite so normal, however soft-spoken and delicate it sounded. Her greeting was a mix of curiosity at the man crouching just a few paces away, of why he was there, but at the same time it was almost indifferent, as if his presence was simply amusing, and nothing to really concern herself with. It was a very strange tone to a very normal voice.

The man's muscles were a bit stiff, a little sore from staying in such a position for a long time. Despite the stiffness and the soreness he did not move or change positions. It wasn't unbearable and he had no real need to move, not yet anyway. Purple eyes watched almost cautiously when the female finally stirred. Watching as she pushed herself off the rock.

Indeed the customary reaction should have been one of shock, fear, and horror. Or to dive off and hide somewhere, but this woman did none of those things. Somehow he found himself not the least bit surprised at such a lack of action. Perhaps it had something to do with what he had witnessed the night before. The wild storm, the almost bestial ritual. It was what he would call old magick. Though there was a certain beauty to such rituals.

His thoughts had drifted away for a moment, but quickly they returned when the woman spoke that simple greeting. One word, that seemed to say a lot. Curiosity and indifference. As if she didn't care why or how he was there, but still wouldn't mind knowing. Stiff muscles protested slightly as he slowly rose to stand, she had greeted him and he had yet to respond. It was customary to give a greeting back, polite even. The man did not seem so sure of his words, other than a return greeting, what should he say to this woman?

Pale tongue flicked across his lips to moisten them before he spoke. His voice was low and yet it seemed to carry itself easily to her ears. Almost as if he had been standing centimeters from her and whispered his words softly to her. "Good 'morrow, fair maiden." His voice was rather monotonous and yet it seemed to carry all emotions, known and even some unknown, within it.

The silver eyes followed the man as he stood, lips parting ever so slightly as her smile grew a little at his formal greeting. This new angle allowed Fae to study him better, noting the long, elegant ears, the bright red of his hair and the intense violet of his eyes. She watched him for a few moments more, as if waiting for something, but she pushed herself up off the rock again, finally standing herself.

She stepped up onto the bank, pulling her hair over one shoulder, twisting it to draw out the water from it, leaving the damp tendrils to curl in and out amongst one another. Fae bent over just enough to pick up her cloak, using it as a towel to dry herself off, her casual air almost like she had forgotten she had a visitor. But she returned to him when she asked, "Quite a storm, was it not?" There was a playful edge to her voice as she looked back over her shoulder at the stranger, continued in the smile she gave him, but somehow her silver eyes remained just as empty as before, void of any emotion. Somehow, the silver discs seemed incapable of ever holding any emotion, as cold and lifeless as metal coins.

He continued to watch her cautiously, she was smiling, but he did not smile. Nor did he frown. He merely watched. She watched him to now,for a few moments, then she was pushing herself from the rock again and standing. The man was rather tall, his legs long and slender causing him to stand at a easy height of 6'5. Though still a bit short for his kind. He didn't move as she stepped onto the bank.

The man still watched, his eyes never once strayed to look at anything below her neck. Such an action would be improper, and there was nothing down there that interested him. Not really, at least, at the moment. He licked his lips again, as she picked up her cloak and used it as a towel. She spoke, and her voice was a bit playful, but her eyes. Now that he could see them much more clearly, caused a shiver to run down his spine. Empty. So very empty. "A very...unusual...storm." His brow had furrowed just slightly. "It held the scent of magic. Old magic." He stated rather matter-of-factly.

She laughed softly, the long, lazy gestures of her arms echoing her voice. "Indeed," she said as she turned away again, neither agreeing with his assessment nor arguing with it. Mostly dry now, she swung the cloak over her back, and wordlessly, walked away, back towards where she had left her clothes at the base of the tree. Fae felt that, should this stranger really wish to continue the conversation, he'd follow her anyway. He had, after all, been waiting for her at the riverside. The fact that he had been watching her while she slept, and was a good head taller than she, didn't seem to bother her at all, but with those vacant eyes, it seemed that very little would, whether or not it was dangerous for her.

Upon reaching the base of the tree, the cloak came off again, being hung up on a low-hanging branch to keep it off the ground. She lifted her dress nonchalantly, still just as disinterested yet curious about her visitor as she dressed, taking a seat to dust her feet off, sliding long boots made of soft tan leather up to just below her knees. Her outfit was simple; a dress of long, dark green fabric, simple and flat, with wide bell-shaped sleeves and a low, rounded neckline that almost fell off her delicate shoulders. The skirt was long, but slitted twice in the front, one in front of each leg. The dress was very simple in design and had no visible hems or bands of color, but a close inspection showed that it was heavily embroidered with ivy leaves just shades darker than the rest of it, swirling and dancing about on the simple gown, betraying what might have been a noble start to its existence. Not at all what this woman looked like she might wear after her behavior.

The woman did not agree or disagree. She had given him a rather noncommittal answer. His gaze did not waver, he was a creature of patience it seemed. Unlimited and boundless he could stand there and silently watch her all day if he so chose. When she draped her cloak around her shoulders and began moving, the Eladrin male followed a few paces behind her. When she stopped moving, he stopped.

He watched her dress. Already he had seen her naked, looking away now would make no difference. Purple eyes taking in the dress she pulled on, and then the boots she slipped on. His own clothing was hidden beneath the cloak he wore, it was fastened tight about his neck and even the wind could not blow it open where the edges came to meet down the front. For a moment his head turned ever so slightly and those eyes flickered a bit, as if he were glancing to something on his left shoulder. There was, of course, nothing physical there. Whispered words entered his ear and his mind.

His attention returned to the female. It was, he had decided, time for introductions. With a slight bow, his lips parted and he spoke. "I am called Kry..." The name was neither elven or Eladrin. It was one his deity had given him. "...Most trusted servant, most powerful Magus for the Phoenix God Suzaku." Would the woman introduce herself now? He had straightened from his slight bow, and watched her a bit expectantly.

Fae's eyes drifted back up to the man as he introduced himself, not bothering to even pause in straightening out her sleeves. She lifted her hair up in her arms as he watched her expectantly, pulling the still damp curls free of the dress, letting them fall down her back in a cascade of shadows and wet highlights. The bemused twist in her lips showed once again in her voice as she noted, "I'm honored, good sir, to be sure."

Instead of standing again, she settled herself back on the upraised root that she had first sat upon, leaning against the tree as she continued to watch Kry, her smile changing to a more curious one. As before, her eyes had remained perfectly neutral and unnatural, never once mirroring the emotion her face and voice conveyed. "What business could someone as important as yourself," she began, the innocent smile betrayed by the playful tone in her voice, "Could possibly have with a lowly wanderer such as me?" The question was fully a mix of her playful curiosity, managing to not sound like an insult or questioning of his title. The fact that she was still so amused didn't say much for how much respect she gave that title, however…

The woman had not introduced herself, though he wasn't too surprised by that. He had half expected such. He hadn't stated such titles to impress her, he had only stated them because they were the truth. Respect he cared little for, respect was not something to be gained by tossing titles around. A thoughtful silence seemed to enclose him.

When she settled herself back on the root of the tree, he lowered himself to crouch before her. It was a bit unsettling, the way her face showed emotion, the way her voice held it, while her eyes were cold. Empty. It made a word come to mind. Soulless. But such a thing, could not be possible. The thoughtful silence remained about him for a few moments longer after she had spoke. He did not answer her right away, merely contemplated his answer.

Finally, his lips parted. "I am not important. Merely a tool for a higher power, but never important." He said such words easily, as if his own life had no real meaning other than being tugged about like a puppet on strings. Truthfully he had much more freedom than a stringed puppet. "I have no business, it is simple curiosity that compels me." He might have said more, but he did not continue. Choosing instead to fall silent.

She watched him as he knelt, curious as to why he felt he had to do that so much. She actually sort of liked it, not being used to people kneeling in her presence. Of course, that wasn't the reason why, she knew, but it still kept that bemused smile on her lips.

"Well then, might I relieve some of that curiosity?" she asked, still teasing in her tone. "I am Fae. Just Fae." She leaned forward, bending over her legs to look at Kry more closely, tilting her head to one side in pure curiosity. "Is there anything else you're curious about that I might help you with?"

Some of his curiosity was relieved when she gave her name, now he had a name to go along with her face. Kry had nodded slightly when she spoke, though he took time in answering her question. Choosing his words, or rather, the way he would phrase them carefully.

"The storm led me to you. You smell of old magic." Now his look was a cautious one. Old magic could be so very dangerous. His own magic could be very dangerous, true, but old magic was something he hadn't seen or felt for many, many years. "Tell me about last night's ritual." It wasn't a question, nor was it really a demand. If she refused he might not press the matter. He was simply curious.

"Oh my," she said, playfully feigning innocence; "Do I really?" She lifted an arm to rest on her leg, hand propping up her chin as she replied, her tone as playful as ever the entire time she spoke. "Last night's ritual was a binding ceremony; there's been this nasty little demon running around, and I was asked to keep him from doing any more harm. It took me a while to catch him, but once I did, I was able to bind him to the claw of one of his victims, and seal him away."

Her eyes fluttered down to the spot of earth that she had buried the claw in, the dirt still visibly stirred. She giggled, as if scolding herself for nearly forgetting it. Fae stood in a manner that would have been considered abrupt, if it wasn't for the slow, deliberate way she moved. Stepping over to the spot, she knelt down, placing her hands back on the mound, closing her eyes as she spoke softly, her words melting together in what sounded more like an undertone than anything else. As she spoke, she pressed her hands harder into the earth, fingers stretching out long to dig at it, slowly pulling her hands away as she finished, eyes opening as her hands finally left the ground.

The space was no longer upturned dirt, but grass, fresh and new as if it was springtime. Fae surveyed her work with a tired smile, sitting back and leaning against the root she had earlier been sitting on. "It looks new now," she explained to her inquisitive companion, "But it will age, as all things do, and the hole will be sealed away for good." She leaned her head back, letting out a long, soft sigh; after the night's frenzied dance, she was still exhausted, so even this little bit of magic was tiring. But it was done, and now she could focus on regaining her strength.

Amusement danced in his purple eyes for a few moments, as the girl feigned playful innocence. Somehow a part of him found her odd personality a bit refreshing, even though her eyes still made him feel just a bit uneasy. He couldn't really get over how empty they seemed. Though he was doing very well to not think of such things.

Kry was glad when Fae did not refuse to tell him about the ritual. He had smelled and felt the magic, heard the chanting last night. Still he had not been sure what kind of ritual it was. With old magic it could be hard to tell sometimes. When she looked at the spot of earth, he followed her gaze. Knowingly. Something would have to be done about that. Purple eyes blinked softly. She was already in motion again.

That was good, it was her ritual, and so she had to be the one to completely, complete it. Which to him, included hiding the sealed away demon. He might have done it differently, but he was just here to watch. Mostly. And so it was not his place to say what he might have or might not have done. Besides, as far as he could tell, she had everything under control herself.

When she was done, when the new and fresh grass replaced the recently disturbed dirt, he nodded. She was so very right. Everything aged. "You have exhausted yourself." The words were stated matter-of-factly, and he watched her almost carefully, mostly he was trying to make sure she wasn't going to pass out. Kry was rather good exhausting himself, his magic and sometimes even his god. He knew the signs well of exhaustion well. If he had anything more to say, he did not say it.

She kept her eyes closed even as she smiled at Kry, softly laughing. "I shall recover," she replied to his words of concern, seeming fully unconcerned herself. The silver discs became visible again as she slid her eyes open to look at him, and proceeded to study him, as if she'd never seen him before.

"My lord," she said, her tone of familiarity cancelling her study of him, "You would not happen to be carrying anything to eat, would you?" The playfulness was still in her voice, in the way she lifted her head away from the tree, tilting it with a growing smile at Kry.

He had no doubt in his mind that she would recover. Nor had he any inclination to offer her any food he might have. At least, not until she asked. It wasn't rudeness that had prevented him from offering what he did have, though she might see it as such, it was more the fact that if he gave her his meager rations, there would be less or none at all left for him when he became hungry. Though. Such a thing was trivial. Already scolding words from his deity were whispered in his ear, in his mind.

"I have naught but dried beef and clean water." He said that, and for a moment it seemed as if he really would keep such things to himself. Only a moment though and he moved, pushing the edges of his cloak back to reveal his simple black tunic, simple black breeches, the small pouch that hung at his waist and the waterskin next to it. His movements were slow, but deliberate. He pulled the pouch from his belt, and then the waterskin. "You may eat and drink as much of it as you want." Those words spoken as he stood, stepping closer to her so that he could hand the items to her.

Fae smiled as she watched Kry bring out the pouch of dry meat and waterskin, shifting positions to come in unexpectedly close to where he was standing, still on the ground, her eyes fixed on what he held out to her. "I shall repay your kindness," she said as she looked up at him, her long, delicate fingers having slipped into the bag to pull out a few strips of meat.

Rather than pulling away again, she resettled herself next to his feet, nibbling delicately at the meat like it was a treat to be savored. Her eyes had fallen to what she was holding in her hands, blinking every few moments with a soft, almost intentional flutter of her lashes.

"I need no repayment." He kept his eyes on her as she reached in and pulled out a few strips of the meat, watching her until she began to nibble at the meat. It was rude to stare at one when they were eating. His purple eyes found something else to occupy them, nothing important. Just a spot of ground a few feet away from them.

His grip on the waterskin shifted subtly, his fingers moving just slightly to adjust his hold. It would be there, waiting patiently for her, if she decided she wanted it. His other hand still held the pouch with the remaining meat. That too would wait patiently for her if she wanted more. Kry was just as content with standing as he was with crouching, and at least with standing, his muscles wouldn't stiffen the way they did when crouched in one position for a long time.

"I shall anyway," she said easily, her eyes drifting back up to him as she finished the first piece. Fae gently reached for the water, but rather than pulling it out of his hand, she continued her playfulness with him, simply tilting it so she could drink from it, letting him hold the weight of the waterskin as she simply closed her eyes, taking several long drinks before resealing the skin, settling back down to start on the next piece of meat.

"What shall I repay you with?" she asked, although the thoughtful way in which she spoke suggested it was only half directed at Kry. She seemed to ponder this as she nibbled, coming up with only a few suggestions, her tone and playful smile asking him for his input. "I could catch a rabbit for you… or find some sweet berries… or perhaps treat you to a drink in a town?"

Those eyes flitted from the patch of ground to look at her when she spoke. "Such a thing is unnecessary." He didn't move when she reached for the waterskin. Expecting her to take it, when she tilted in his hand, he shifted his fingers around it gently to prevent it from slipping out. Watching her almost warily as she drank from the skin in his hand. As if she were a pet he treating. Or..perhaps it was more like, he was the pet. The way she teased, did make him feel like a mouse caught in the paws of a cat.

He shifted on his feet just slightly when Fae spoke again. A subtle shake of his head, before he spoke again. "It is not required that you do any of those things." He spoke the words with patience in his voice. Even if she pressed the subject further, he would not get angry or irritated. He would continue to gently refuse such silly notions.

Fae made a face at his insistence that she didn't have to repay him, but as always, it was playful. Maybe she was treating him like a cat with a mouse, but so far she had no such inclinations. She seemed to simply like toying with him; he was so serious, she thought, that he needed a little change.

"You're no fun," she finally noted, closing her eyes and turning her head away as if fed up with him; she finished the rest of her meat with considerable speed as she stood up, turning to pull her cloak off of the branch, grabbing the small, clearly mostly empty satchel that rested on the ground, throwing the first over her arm, the second on her shoulder. "If you're going to be like that," she said, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, "You can at least keep me company while I return to town." The slight quirk on her lips betrayed the playfulness that had continued throughout her entire "tantrum," but it became hidden as she turned and started to walk away yet again, feeling better already after the small amount of meat.

He blinked softly when she called him 'no fun'. For a moment, only a moment he looked very uncertain. Had he angered her? He hadn't meant to. Carefully he watched her finish the rest of the meat and stand. When she did stand, he retied his pouch of what was left of the dried meat and replaced it at his belt, shortly after he replaced the water skin at his belt as well.

Kry pulled his cloak tight about him, once again hiding his form behind it's black folds. He watched silently as she picked up her cloak and bag. When she spoke again he merely nodded. The playful quirk of her lips did reassure him that he had not offended her too greatly by continuously refusing her repayment. "It would be me pleasure to keep you company." She had mentioned returning to town, Kry hesitated as she began to walk away, hesitating only long enough to reach up and pull the hood of his cloak over his head. The shadow of the hood effectively hiding his face from view. Now, quick strides of his long legs brought him easily to her side. Matching her pace easily.

"Very good. I forgive you then," Fae said over her shoulder as he responded, not pausing for him. She knew she didn't have to; as predicted, he matched her pace easily, his head towering over hers proving enough about the difference in leg length.

"Would you care to satisfy some of my curiosity?" she asked as he matched her pace, still watching the path ahead, although her eyes made it seem as if she was not aware of where her feet were going, keeping them from looking in the moment, or indeed real. "Who is it that you serve?"

She really was an amusing person. His lips had quirked up into smile when she spoke of forgiving him. Kry was silent though. The shadow of his hood effectively hiding the amusement that danced in his eyes. His silence had turned to a thoughtful one when she asked her questions of him.

Choosing how he phrased his words carefully before he spoke. "My master is the aspect of life and rebirth. He is all but forgotten by the inhabitants of this plane. Few are his followers when once, long ago, there had been so many." His voice had taken a tone of unimaginable respect when he spoke of his deity. "I am the oldest of his followers now, and yet I am still so very young and new to his ways." He had gone silent, if she pressed, asked more questions he would answer them, but he did not offer much of explanation with out being pressed for one. It was just his way.

Fae nodded, listening even though her eyes never drifted from whatever it was she stared at so intently ahead. "So very young indeed," she said, and for that one moment, that briefest instant, her voice lost its childlike, playful quality, but sounded distant, as if she was shouting across leagues to be heard. It almost seemed inhuman, with the same stillness and cold that her soulless eyes held.

"I think I know your master," she continued, her voice suddenly back to its playful nature. "I know many names of those involved with life and its renewal, so perhaps your master is one of them, or all," she added with a smile, trying to soothe any feathers she may have ruffled with her words. The shift back to this strange, playful voice seemed completely unnoticed by her, her eyes never once for that whole time leaving their eventual destination.