Wayward Destinies (MareepBell&Nenha)

[MareepBell]

Kira flushed, she hadn’t meant to insult him. He merely asked her if he seemed like the type to take advantage of her. All she did was answer with her thoughts on why he wouldn’t. She didn’t realize her words would be taken so harshly. She felt guilty, but he seemed to take it in a little bit of good humor, since he laughed. So Kira eased a little bit, but the guilt still showed on her face.

She watched as he continued to eat and then suddenly slid the plate towards her, telling her she could have it. Kira wasn’t about to miss the chance for a free meal, and eagerly went for it. Venison wasn’t her favorite, but at this point she was too hungry to care. She licked the grease from his fingers, as she continued to listen to Ragni. She tensed up when he finally asked who was after her. Kira didn’t know how much she should tell. Nervously, she wiped her hands on her pants. She looked around at the people in the bar, the bartender cleaning a glass with a rag, a group of men off chatting in the corner, a barmaid shooting a glare towards her. Kira turned away. “It would be better if I told you in a less crowded place.” She said in a whisper.

Ragni seemed to understand as he continued to pick his nails and change the subject. Kira flushed as his words became vulgar and his story unpleasant. But she looked up excitedly, her eyes wide, as he finally agreed to come with her. “Ah, I am getting my own!” She said as she stood up straight. “But thank you sir Ragni!” She said brightly, relief and excitement soothing from her voice and stature.

[Nenha]

Ragnvald stood up and retrieved the his bags along with her loot bag. He glanced back up and nodded to her. “Well I am off for bed. We will half this loot and then make our way out tomorrow morning... I guess see you when the sun is up.” He paused a bit and looked back. “Thanks for the excitement by the way. Hopefully it calms down in awhile. I would rather have a peaceful ride rather than some gory death trip. I am not one of those men searching for death you know...” He flashed his sideways grin and turned back.
The swordsman made his way up the inn stairs shortly after grabbing a bottle from the keep. The stairs were anything but reliable sounding, creaking and cracking with every step. Some seemed about ready to fall through almost.
Finally up the stairs he made his way to his room. The door creaking shut behind him as he let the bags slide off his shoulder into a corner and went to lay on the bed. But a bed it could hardly be called, it was more of packed hay or very thick cotton. Either way it felt worse than the piny floors of home. The young man let out a sigh as his teeth carved into the cork which was holding back the golden liquid to his dreamless sleep. His mind kept wondering back to his father always yelling for him to try harder. Watching his brother brutalize captives and his mother just out in the garden smoking and pretending nothing was ever wrong. It was a home overrun with testosterone.
Ragni loosed another sigh and began to sip at the golden elixir gingerly and hissing at intervals at the burning sensations of the liquid. But before long he could feel his eyes growing droopy...

Ragnvald woke with a start, leaping from the stiff mattress and drawing the swords that he had never removed. His mind drifted back to last night and everything came rushing back to the helpless girl. After his thoughts focused his nose wrinkled at the sharp scent of bitter alcohol. And it didn't help that his right side was drenched in it.
“Well I guess this means I shall go buy some new clothes...” Ragnvald retrieved his bags and made his way quietly down the creaking stairs. The sun had yet to rise and he intended to retrieve Omen before it did and then make his round about town in buying what he needed.

The swordsman strolled through the rather well crafted town or village. Whichever you preferred. Either way the place seemed to have really anything a larger city could offer. It just seemed a little more relaxed and less bustling. More friendly neighbors rather than stark strangers.
Ragnvald started to whistle as he heard the ring of hammer on iron from the forges, the sawing in the forests not far off, and the passing wagon with a braying donkey. In truth it was somewhere he would like to stay for the rest of his life. Yet, the soldier knew that killing was his craft. Everything else seemed to have no real meaning. And to make life it seemed one must not take it. So having a farm seemed like nonsense, much less a family of his own. Another sigh escaped his chapped red lips, the breath turning to a white plume and vanishing just as another breath came in two long streams from his nose in the crisp morning chill.
Before long his worn boots were clacking along the walkway leading up to the stables and the stablehouse. He paused and looked about and then as he came closer to the stables he saw the boy dozing half of his rump on a stool and the other off with a moldy old horse blanket wrapped about his shoulders. A moment later Omen's head came out over the boy's own and gave a snort which sent the young lad off the stool and scrambling for his feet.
Ragnvald chuckled slightly at the scene while shaking his head at Omen who only replied with a stamp of his hooves.

The lad turned to look at the man as he patted furiously at his pounding heart which felt like it was ready to burst out of his chest. “I watched him all day, sir...”

Ragni squated down and stared the boy in the eye. “That you did it seems laddy... Well then I guess I shall be taking both those horses and taking my leave. Get them saddled and ready to go boy...”
The lad nodded back and set to work.
Ragnvald dragged the stool over and took a squat on the low seat. He watched patiently and was pleased to see the young lad was rather quick at his job, it seemed like it was over in no time at all.
“Alright, thank you for the diligent work even if you did have a sour attitude at the beginning. Here is your other half... Keep it for yourself.” Ragnvald took the leads and set the two silver coins in the boys hand. In truth it was probably more money than he was ever going to see for a long time. Especially since most things were probably barter around these parts.

It was not long before Ragnvald returned to the inn after stopping by the tailor. It was true that he had needed new clothes. His choices were not of the best for hiding, but when had he ever been a good hider. Ragnvald could always say that he was a brave coward who charged first and sought after his life later.
Why wait for someone to end you when you might well be their end.

Ragnvald finished buttoning the last button of his tunic and tucking in the deep red clothe into his dark britches. He rather liked the color of blood more though than the color of shit. If he did have to fight more then he was going to do it in something that would not show his blood as well.
He carried and extra package as well.
“Hopefully they won't be to baggy...” He was not sure of her size and could only guess. He had gotten them both two pairs of new clothing and a pair of socks. It was almost the last of his coin, but in truth he wasn't truly using it for anything. And he could always trade one of his swords for more money.
His hand rapped the well worn door which made it shake to all high hell. “This place could afford some repairs...” Ragni then spoke louder to carry his voice through the door, “Come on lad let us be off with the sun, we need to make ground. I am leaving a parcel of clothes at your door. Hurry and change... I will be outside if you need some help.” At that the man left chuckling to himself, his worn boots making the stairs groan in protest to his departure.
The swordsman then waited. His hands patting and fluffing at Omen's mane as he waited, the horse only replying with a brief snort and a stomp of his hoof. And with the Ragni sat on the lead post.
“One must always wait upon a woman...” Or so that is what his father always told him when he was still a lad.