Bracken had more then enough time to think while this stranger left. She didn't even think she knew his name yet. Did it matter much? In a land where magic users, those born with the gift to commune with the elements were no more then tools, he treated her as differently as could be. He treated her as a person. None of her planning, her wishing, had ever prepared Bracken for that.

Maybe the people in the castle would be better with this man then ever before. Bracken certainly hoped so. Her sisters ... with him as the leader, there was no doubt they would be in a better situation. Certainly so.

She shifted when the older man walked in and watched him setting up the cot. It certainly looked more comfortable then the palette she was used to. It looked luxurious. "Thank you." She licked her lips and stood. "I'll tell you all I know tomorrow."

The young woman slid onto the cot and wrapped herself beneath the furs, only her eyes peeked out, peering out at the one she'd met so recently, the one who'd saved her from her predicament.

Jarrith moved, placing himself at a distance to let her approach her new bedding. He nodded when she spoke, turning away and moving toward his own. "Until tomorrow then," he said, not looking back at the fur-swaddled woman. "Good night."

He was under the assumption she had hid all of herself, allowed herself to be swallowed up by warm furs she had seemed so deprived of up in that cold room.

He did not feel her eyes as he set about removing the pieces of his armor, still tied to him.

The clanked dully as he dropped the metal inlaid pieces, heavy fur and leather followed suit. Without his gloves and armor, the jagged scars on his wrists became apparent, the tell-tale signs of years of struggle and too tight binding wearing the skin.

More scars littered his arms and his poked out of the top of his shirt along his neck. Many looked like the aftermath of a fight, the tell tale wounds of blades and arrows. But the ones on his back, poking above his fur-lined shirt, show the rugged nature of a wound caused by a leather whip or thin pole.

With a sniff he finally crawled onto his own cot, pulling the heavy furs over his shoulder and closing his eyes. He remained silent the whole night, sleeping quietly, his back to Bracken.

((That absence, my friend, is what happens when your internet refuses to connect to Menewsha and you're stuck trouble-shooting why for over a month while the small snippets of time I am allowed to connect are woefully cut off and my hope dwindles.))

Tendrils of fur brushed against her skin. Outside the wind howled. She could see the tent walls bowing to the elements, bending just enough and never failing. When she closed her eyes, the gentle breathing of the man who'd taken her away from Lord Harrock filled her ears.

For some reason, despite his threats, she felt safe with him. Safe enough to breath out a sigh. Bracken curled up, and closed her eyes. Her thoughts drifted to her sisters, touched theirs reassuringly, before drifting away on the ocean of dreams.

The next morning, Bracken woke long before the sun. Her feet met cold cloth covered ground as she slid from the cot, and wandered over to the other cot. She tilted her head, grey eyes speculative, as she peered at the scarred man. She wondered how he had gotten his marks, the history behind them.

Why was he so intent on taking the castle? Well, if it improved matters for her family and others like them, it mattered not.

"It's rude to stare," came a cracking voice, Jarrith's eyes cracking open as the warlord turned over and eyed her almost sleepily. He slept lightly. Always had. One eye open, so to speak.

He sat up soon after, taking in a long breath and he stretched his stiff muscles, letting out a light groan. He turned to look back at her when he was comfortable again, eyes still heavy from sleep yet glittering with sharp awareness.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, giving her a small smile. "I hope so. We have a lot to talk about..." He cut himself short, blinking as he sniffed. He swung his legs over and stood, looking down at her.

"I don't think we ever introduced ourselves. I am Jarrith the Wolf-Claw," he said, holding out his arms in a 'look at me presentable to the public with my sleeping clothes on and my hair a beddy mess' kind of manner. "And what may I call you, little lamb?"

Bracken stepped back, and her eyes slapped to the floor. She nodded when he asked how she'd slept, and looked up like a deer caught in a hunter's sights when he stood. He was so tall. intimidating. The breath of his shoulders, well it felt like he could snap her like a twig. All the comfort she had felt the night before evaporated. Even mussed hair did nothing to make Jarrith seem even less strong.

"Bracken." She tugged at her fur tunic. "Could you please give me my talismans again? I need them to do my work." She didn't feel right without them. Surely he could see how different she was without the power to summon creatures from the higher realm.

Jarrith bowed his head when she spoke her name, moving past her to one of the tables, picking his armor up from where it had fallen on its way. He froze for a second, turning his head to raise an eyebrow in her direction when she asked for her talismans.

"'Talismans'...?" he hummed, turning to the table as he laid out his armor on the table, smoothing it out as he laid the pieces gently on weather worn wood.

"Are you going to summon a hawk to gouge out my eyes? I did not appreciate him the first time," he said, smiling slightly at the memory. "And I do not believe Svend has yet forgiven him."

He finally turned to face her entirely, face stony. "Will you be using this...power of your, your Talisman's, to harm those here? If you do, if I find any spirits have harmed my men under your order without cause," he started, beginning to make his way over, using his superior size to get his point, his threat, across, "I will personally see that they will harm no one. Again."

He softened up afterward, turning and making his way to a small chest. He grabbed it and made his way to her, handing it over. "Everything I got off you is in here. Do not make me regret giving this to you."

She shook her head. "I want to use them to help you and your men. Without the talismans, I am ... near powerless." It would take years to rebuild her repertoire of creatures. Her other abilities were minimal to say the least, save for her farsight.

It was hard not to shiver and quake as Jarrith towered over her. He could snap her like a twig if he wanted, throw her out to the cold on a whim. She had no option but to throw her lot with him and his men. When he approached with the chest, Bracken reached out with trembling hands. The moment her fingers wrapped around the wood, and the weight of it rested in her palms, she breathed a sigh of relief. The young woman stood tall, and her eyes got some of their fire back.

"I'll make you thank the gods for my presence, once you tell me what you most need help with." She could work. She could defend herself. She could finally save her sisters.

Jarrith nodded when she spoke, turning away and toward his armor again. There was the soft sounds of leather moving as he applied it all, straps pulled tight on the metal inlaid leather over chain mail and heavy fur. Finally, the worn wolf cloak was draped over his shoulders, clasped tight at the base of his neck with a bone clasp.

"First thing I will need," he said, turning back to her, "is a meal. Come. There should be food in the rations tent." He waved toward the tent flap, offering for her to walk with him.

When they were out in the cold again, the snow falling heavily over them, he turned and began to make his way deeper into the camp.

"As for what you can offer me, an image really. An idea of Harrock and how he treats those beneath him," he said, turning to cast his eyes on her. "How he treated you."

As they neared the large, open-faced tent where a small chunk of Jarrith's forces were gathering, the Wolf-Claw took the time to glance up at the foreboding mountain keep. A dark feeling filled his gut, an inkling of a memory of a dream from long ago.

For a split second, he thought he saw the mountain itself drenched in flame.

((There we go. Not as great as what I HAD (rip what coulda been), but it's good. And I hope you don't mind I kinda hijack the dragon idea. I've gotten some inspiration for how they would work in this world.))

She followed the man wordlessly, wondering where he had gained his fur. A mighty wolf must have struggled strong, before falling at the warrior's hands.

The tent frightened her. She bumped into her guide's back and scuttled away. Bracken sighed. "He is a tyrant. He abuses those without power. I was forced to serve him ... frequently, and not only with my magic. He considers magic users objects, property, as do many of the noble lords and ladies of his ilk.

Harrock is a monster."

She touched his arm when he froze, and followed his eyes. A menacing aura emanated from the ancient rock. It seeped down like water, making Bracken shiver.

Jarrith listened as she spoke, making little noise outside of a hiss of breath. He looked to her when she touched him, eyeing her before turning back to the tent.

"Then I am glad in my decision," he said, leading her into the tent. At one end, an open end where flakes of snow filtered in, sat a set of fires, many of which had pots simmering over them, stacks of wooden bowls to one side on a simple wooden table. It was all venison stew, simmering and hot and enough to feed his small army.

"I am sorry you had to go through such servitude. Know that you will never know that here."

He made his way to the fires, greeting his soldiers as he passed them. When they were close enough, he motioned for her to take a wooden bowl. "Eat now," he said, smiling. "Some food should do you good."

Deep within the mountain, the voices grew close, breaking through smoky dreams. Rage and a tinge of fear. The sleep was leaving and a huff of smoke escaped and filled her chamber with spicy smoke as foolish, ignorant men searched the farthest reaches of her tunnels for a lost treasure.

((Trying to get the dragon thing moved along I hope you don't mind. If you do, literally just let me know.))