little drop of POISON

Yertz; Finch and Freya
Mid-morning


A warm breeze flutters into the room, causing the tattered drapes to dance and sway. The inn room is nothing special. It’s the cheapest in the town, but hey, so long as it has a roof and walls, it’d be just fine with the woman slumbering within a hammock wedged into the corner. Actually this unbridled lady doesn’t mind sleeping out under an open sky either. Every now and then though it’s nice to indulge one’s self, return to civilization if only for a few days. This rogue comes and goes at random. No set seasons, no set days nor months. It keeps the merchants on their toes as she brings back as fine beast hide as she can. She has a handful of friends in the city and looks after them dearly. Her favorite sort of night is one at the bar with her friends, roughing things up and getting into a brawl with them. There are dangers upon her however. Her left eye softly glows even beneath her soft eyelid. It's just waiting, that Demoness' Eye, to leer at its next prey. And of course along with the rogue is her dearest companion, Himmel. And oh my Himmel. The oddly colored gryphon is currently crawling along the dusty wood flooring, gazing up at his rider with anxious mirth. The creature suddenly lunges with a shrill whistle as he dives onto the slumbering woman, crashing the hammock to the floor with his tremendous weight. Finch utters a colorful string of curses as she awakens, trying to fend off that potent beak that’s nuzzling her face. “Himmel! What’re you doing? You should be in the stables, you stupid animal!” the clawed rogue sputters, finally shoving her feathered mount away.

Once outside of the cheap inn after paying a measly fee, Finch has Himmel all set with his riding gear. The bridle on his beak, reins around his lovely throat and his plush saddle hitched behind his shoulders. Gryphons are able to carry heavy loads but the woman is lithe and without heavy frame, making flying easier for Himmel. Uttering a loud waaark!, said gryphon pecks at a passerby who has wandered too closely. He's not the friendliest of creatures. With a sneer and a scoff Finch grabs one of his feathered ear tufts to remind him to behave himself in this town. They won't be staying for very long, but the wayward rogue doesn't want to have guards on her heels before noon. Lips puckering in thought her one revealed eye glances about, that jungle jewel of an orb roiling with mayhem and malice. Finch approaches the market first and purchases a pear and a hen. Leading Himmel away from the market she grips the bawking hen by its legs while biting the pear to hold it with her pearly teeth. The rogue lady finds a suitable perch onto the fountain and drops the hen.

As soon as it's dropped the hen hurries to stand up in a flurry of feathers. Tilting its head this way and that, it barely has time to perceive the predator diving towards it. With a cluck of distress it turns to scamper off, but Himmel lunges, muscles rippling as he lowers his head to snap at the live poultry. There's a loud squawk as the hen's legs are bitten off. It thumps about on useless, bleeding stubs. Since his rider had been holding the hen by its legs, Himmel had wanted to try. However the gryphon doesn't know his own strength. Wings arched and crest erect, he proceeds to attack and maim his breakfast. All awhile Finch leans back onto the fountain with an amused smile. Her sleek, silky hair drips down to her shoulder as she proudly observes her mount's savagery. It's the only interesting thing in this little pansy town of Luxur's known as Yertz. Of course she's already dressed in her light leather armor having slept in it, always be prepared. It's fresh, just as the woman is since she had bathed last night upon arrival. And what an entrance it was. Finch had just been raiding a tomb before coming into this town. The inn was closed when she arrived so late in those unholy hours of the night. So she proceeded to have Himmel screech and blatantly beat at the building's windows with his wings. Until, of course, the inn keeper caved in and allowed Finch entrance. As the vibrantly colored beast continues to maul the helpless little hen his rider doesn't blink, only enjoying her pear. Mayhap she is even imagining herself ripping the plump poultry apart.

"FINCH!" a muscular but curved dwarf woman marched straight for the slender rogue. "Dammit, I was looking everywhere...where is your son?!" Freya glowered up at her friend, disregarding the sleepy haze of the farmers trying to set up their stalls around them.

Finch hissed and shook her head. "You worry too much, my friend...my hatchling is safe for now. Besides. I can't very well take him to work, now can I?"

Yarah Maer'drust, the icy Fae woman, glided through the town square. This was her newest stop in her travels and, when she had arrived, she immediately found a place to stay. She was, however deeply disappointed in her surroundings. She was promised a lovely trip by a man, a place that would make her forget all of her worries and leave her feeling rested and spoiled. So far it had made her feel dirty and smelly. An agricultural town this small and uncultured was no place for a woman like her.

Her light blue, silken dress flitted around her as she walked, though it would look like she was floating -- an attribute granted by her species' natural grace. The transparent sleeves billowed behind her and the sapphires and diamonds weaved into her hair glittered when struck by the light. She was the picture of flawless beauty -- her skin wasn't marred and glowed softly in the sun, she was tall, curved, and poised. She caught the eyes of those she passed, but she did not return the stares -- her lips turned upward in a small smile, but her eyes were flat and disinterested.

Behind her two paces trailed an obscenely tall man. His skin was tanned, sunkissed with constant exposure. He wore no shirt, but a colorfully embroidered vest. His loose, silken pants were a deep red and he wore a black sash about his hips. He didn't move nearly as gracefully as the woman he followed, but he was just a proper. His jaw was set in a firm line and his face was impassive. He slowed when she slowed, walked faster when she walked faster, and stopped when she stopped -- always two paces behind, never more and never less.

Yarah would pause, every now and again, to peer into shops or browse goods -- though she never stayed for more than a few seconds before she continued her journey. When she saw something interesting she would take it and continue walking, leaving her man to deposit coin into the waiting hand of the perturbed shopkeep. It was during one of these brief pauses that the woman had her attention snagged by a mere piece of paper fluttering against the wall, secured at one end.

"Maron -- fetch that paper for me, will you?" She smiled widely at her companion who immediately went from her side to retrieve the parchment. He returned quickly and bowed low at the waist when he presented it to her.

She accepted the paper without another word and began to read it over. It was barely half a second before Yarah was folding the paper in half and handing it back to the man who had resumed his place behind her. "Maron, we're going to go find a woman. She has gryphons. You know what gryphons are, don't you? I want one."

"Of course, mi'lady." The man bowed again as he took the paper from her hands. He had never seen a gryphon before, but he was certain that he would find out what they looked like before the day was through.

Yarah and Maron spent the next hour wandering through the area with the woman getting more and more frustrated every minute. Her lips were pulled into a tight line and her eyes were narrowed. "If she wanted to get rid of them so badly, you'd think she wouldn't go into hiding, right Maron?"

"Yes, mi'lady." The man replied, bowing his head.

"It's quite unprofessional of her, don't you think?"

"Very unprofessional, mi'lady."

"Yes, I quite think so." Yarah sighed. "We aren't giving up, Maron. I'm going home with a gryphon."

"Of course, mi'lady. I wouldn't have thought otherwise, mi'lady."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" She rounded on the man, but he took her in stride.

"You're very determined, mi'lady. It's a very admirable trait."

Yarah smiled, satisfied with the answer. "Yes, I believe it is."

"Mi'lady?"

"Yes, Maron?"

"I may be mistaken, mi'lady, but is that a gryphon, there?" The man nodded over the woman's shoulder. In the distance a woman could be seen journeying up a large hillside with a magnificent creature in tow.

Yarah turned, her frustration escaping her as a smile settled over her features. "Why, yes, Maron. That is a gryphon." Her eyes settled on the woman making her journey and began to follow her. By the time they caught up, Himmel had already finished his meal. Yarah held out her hand expectantly to her man.

He diligently placed the folded up piece of parchment into her hand and followed as she made her way towards the woman -- her stride was confident, nearly forceful, as she approached.

"Excuse me, excuse me. Were you the one that placed this paper?" Yarah extended the paper towards the woman, shaking it so it flipped back open.

When Himmel approached him, Maron stood completely still, erect, and with a straight face. He hoped to appear fearless, but truth be told he was terrified. Yarah, however, did not tolerate weakness and Maron felt confident that he would rather be torn apart by the gryphon than by the Fae woman. He'd been traveling with her for years and was no stranger to her ferocity when the Corruption consumed her. Himmel's display had a much different effect on Yarah, however.

The woman's eyes widened and a grin broke out across her features -- not her false, sweet smile that she used on everyone, but an actual grin. "Gorgeous... Absolutely gorgeous..." The gryphon was certainly a sight to behold and it increased Yarah's want for one of her own tenfold.

"Apologies are unneeded. No damage has been done. Besides, I completely understand." Her statement would hold true if items or property could be considered a flock. Yarah did not keep much company other than her riches, and Maron of course, and she was ever so possessive over them. She waved her hand dismissively in Maron's direction when Finch asked her question. 'Myself, of course. Gryphon are beautiful creatures -- so free and regal -- I couldn't pass up the opportunity of at least seeing one..."

Yarah smiled broadly. Her voice was sweet, maybe just a touch too sweet, but it matched her smile. Closer inspection would prove that her smile didn't quite reach her eyes and she was extremely relaxed in her posture, strange for someone that sounded so very excited. It could be said that Yarah Maer'drust never experience close inspection, however, as her appearance was hardly scrutinized.

Yarah calmly stared back at Finch, her smile unchanging, head tilting to the side ever so slightly. "It's a pleasure. My name is Yarah. Yarah Maer'drust." The Fae extended her perfectly manicured hand, tugging her silken sleeve back as she raised it from her side, and grasped the woman's offered hand strongly and confidently. Despite her dislike of dirty things, of getting dirty, and of "inferior races" in general, Yarah wouldn't let a deal like this go so sour so soon. Her steely, ice blue eyes bored into Finch's own as she gestured to Maron with her other hand. "This is my man, Maron."

Maron bowed deeply at the waist, "It is a pleasure, Lady Finch, Lady Freya." The dark skinned man had felt the small woman's gaze upon him, but as he was told -- he did not speak and he did not look. His eyes remained focused straight ahead, ever tuned into the whims of Yarah. If one could see beyond his apathetic appearance, or if he had poorer control over his countenance, one could deduce the fear he held for the woman. Yarah Maer'drust was dangerous, despite her grace and manipulations.

Freya's observation would have been correct, despite the other reasons for Maron's stoic behavior. He had been trained in combat, though not armed. He was much akin to a monk, a poised, deliberate, hand-to-hand combatant, more defensive than offensive. He had to be trained -- a beautiful woman is never safe... well, Yarah was a different story, but it was his duty to protect her before she was required to protect herself.

After releasing Finch's hand, Yarah raises it to her chin -- her elbow has come to rest on her opposite arm, tucked firmly beneath her generous bosom. She picks absently at her finger nails with the nail on her thumb as she speaks. "To be honest? Gryphon are beautiful, regal, prideful creatures -- free, unhindered, and powerful. How could I not be drawn to them? They possess the most desired qualities." And I don't have one... Her brow quirked slightly, her sickly sweet smile toned down just a tad.