[ AW ] Going Slightly Mad

Silently, the enchantress worked. A warm morning had turned into a too-warm afternoon, leading Rhiannon deeper into the strange woods. But it was a fortunate choice, and the wolfess thanked the unseen Feminine Divine for the discovery. Here, late summer’s harvest was bountiful – flowers in bloom that were helpful for healing, mixed in amongst herbs and plants that served entirely different purposes – and not many of these erte good for those suffering. Unless, of course, the goal was to end such suffering. A number of plants growing in this field would work well, if the intent was to produce a dead wolf.

Rhiannon had to be especially careful as she collected, unwilling to ingest any of these potentially toxic things that grew from the earth. She had just come across something small, familiar, but rare: salvia divinorum. It was called the sage of the diviners for good reason. The seer’s sage. The one, the woman might consider trying It was said to be a divine, otherworldly experience. But that would require a different setting, a later time of night, and the right company with whom to share such a profound journey.

She was still examining the minty green leaves and pale violet flowers when she heard a noise and caught the scent of a stranger. Rhiannon sighed aloud – why did it have to be a male? The witch did not bother to flee. Instead, she began to hum a soft lullaby, feigning innocence, should the brute foolishly approach the lone femme there in the mysterious forest. All around, the birds still chirped as if the day were normal. But for one brute, the afternoon could prove to be anything but normal.

OPEN

art & code by alexandre

Archon had wandered too far, he felt. Too far to find anything of use, as the mysterious forest shrouded him in shadowy darkness, flecked by rays of sunlight that beamed through the thick overhead branches, making his black coat mottled in gold. The forest held a mysterious air, something which Archon had never felt before weighing heavily upon his shoulders. A frown touched his scarred visage, confusion as he felt a little lost gathering within a violet gaze.

The scent of a woman touched his nose.

So he was not alone out on the edge of the world it would seem.

Archon angled himself toward the scent, walking with quiet steps that produced minimal noise as his large frame moved. He found himself soon in a clearing, the woman he had scented earlier standing roughly in the middle of it. Archon gazed at her steadily, his head canted slightly to the side as he took in what she was doing. She was gathering plants, most of which he knew little about beyond the fact that they were not healing herbs. He had been healed enough to know the difference between herbs that protected and those that harmed life., although he did not know how to make the salves and poultices and pastes that healers usually made.

There could be an opportunity here, he considered, although he knew with some of those plants that he recognized in play, Archon would have to tread carefully.

“Hello, strange woman,” Archon said in a deep baritone as he curiously eyed the woman. She was pretty, he could give her that, but she held an air about her that screamed ‘danger.’ Archon couldn’t help but feel a little attracted to the danger she emitted — it wasn’t as if he regularly surrounded himself with outstanding individuals, anyway.


@Rhiannon

table ; bunny

With a forced grin, Rhiannon turned to face the stranger who approached without hesitation. ”Hello, strange woman,” he addressed the witch, and the femme used all of her strength to maintain a feigned expression of pleasant surprise as she turned to fully face. ”And greetings to you, traveler.” Curious eyes roamed the muscular frame of the brute – undoubtedly a fighter. Rhiannon understood she had to proceed with caution.

The male stench, that particular smell carried only by the opposite sex, was nearly overpowering to the she-wolf. But she could play the part of an interested lady, coy and flirtatious. It was what most men desired. Unfortunately for this brute, he had found quite the opposite of worldly desires. If the stranger’s aim, however, was to experience something unique, then he was most certainly in luck.

Why didn’t she run? Or make some excuse to leave? He certainly was not the sort of company she enjoyed being around, by virtue of his maleness alone. But that was not how Rhiannon responded to males. She would never give them any semblance of power over her. Instead, she smiled with kindness as she regarded the stranger. "Are you familiar to these woods?"

@Archon

art & code by alexandre

Something was off about the woman, that much Archon could pick up on. After so long in the pits, after so long of being forced to read others… he had a talent for reading others, in some form or fashion. But he could not determine what was wrong about her. Perhaps her expression was fake, or perhaps something about her air gave some deeper part of him a perturbed existence. Either way, Archon ignored it — he feared no one, there was no need for him to. He could handle a smaller woman, without issue, especially one so slight of frame.

“And greetings to you, traveler,” she said, with eyes roaming his frame. Archon returned the favor, his gaze consuming her, chewing her up and spitting her out as he decided he liked what he saw, but not enough to act in any true regard other than a chilly tolerance.

Archon offered only a grunt in response.

“Are you familiar to these woods?” She asked a smile of falseness upon her angular, feminine features. Archon regarded her cooly for a moment before his board head shook slowly.

“No,” he said simply. “I am not familiar with these woods. I am only passing through as I take in a new kingdom.” And with that, Archon told the truth, gave something of himself to the woman in hopes that she might return the favor as he regarded her for a moment more before asking a question.

“Are you?” The words rumbled deeply on bassy baritones.


@Rhiannon

table ; bunny

O

h, it seemed as if this male had already seen much in his life. His face was riddled with haphazard pink scars that stood out against the darkness of his pelt, which looked like the ash left behind after a forest fire. His eyes, much like her own, were a deep purple hue, and she could feel them upon her form as his sights strayed across Rhiannon’s lithe frame. The enchantress could feel her stomach turning. The stranger merely grunted in a brutish reply to her introduction. Charming.

He denied being familiar to the forest in which he stood, adding in his low, masculine tones, ”I am only passing through as I take in a new kingdom.” This was an interesting bit of information that Rhiannon tucked away for future questioning. For now, she had an inquiry of her own: “are you?” The stormy wolfess peered around at the trees towering over them, offering softly, ”I know the woods well enough, but this is not my homeland.”

Her sights returned to the scarred features of the brute. ”I apologize, you caught me in the midst of harvesting. You see, I am a healer,” she offered with a quiet laugh. ”I suppose that much would be obvious to any passersby, hm? But you are the first I have seen in a long while.” Her smiling expression was meant to prove that the intrusion was not unwelcomed.


@Archon

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

Archon had seen more in his relatively short life than most would ever see well into their twilight years. He had seen more violence than most, although there always existed someone that had seen more, someone that was more battle torn and grizzled from war. Although the kind of war that Archon had seen was inherently different, gladiator-style fighting for the sheer pleasure of others. The Pit. The fur on his shoulders lifted slightly in response to the thought, although his visage itself did not respond to the internal monologue that flowed through him.

He stared at the woman with the coolness of a frozen river, although there was a baser need visible in those vibrant eyes, something he had never quite been able to understand, no matter how hard he tried. A hunger, a vampire of sorts that would never be satiated, simply because the man did not care to act upon the impulse, the need, the aggression.

“I know the woods well enough, but this is not my homeland,” the woman said, as she looked at the trees as if they were familiar strangers around her. Archon’s ear twitched slightly.

“I see,” he said, almost thoughtfully. The woman’s gaze flickered back to him, as she spoke again.

“I apologize, you caught me in the midst of harvesting. You see, I am a healer,” she said with a small laugh. “I suppose that much would be obvious to any passersby, hm? But you are the first I have seen in a long while.”

“A healer is a dangerous thing to be; so much knowledge, from what I understand. Where I came from, we had a healer, as most do, who did most of his work by helping others out of this world.” Archon paused for a moment. “He was a very bad healer, or a good one, depending on how you look at it.” There was a slight sense of humor in his baritone, a bit of gallows humor if one thought about it closely enough.

He took a step forward, observing the plant that the woman was near. It stood out amongst the grass and moss around it.

“What does it do?” He asked, his violet gaze slipping back over the woman’s figure, to settle upon her own similarly colored eyes.

“I have not seen anyone else for a long time, too,” Archon said quietly. “Not since I wandered through what seemed to be a settlement, some days back. These trees seem very… empty, in their own way.” He observed, holding her gaze for a moment or so.


@Rhiannon

table ; bunny