Shawn Daysleeper and Belenos
Eilif doesn't even crinkle her nose at the musty smell of old straw as she runs her hand down the foreleg of the pony, for it is familiar and almost comforting to her for that. While she is now a highly skilled weapon-smith, she, like many others before her, had begun her apprenticeship with her father learning the basics of blacksmithing. The long hours at forge and anvil has built the endurance and physical strength she needed for the finer work of crafting weapons. Besides muscles she has also developed a knowledge of the animals she worked with, for in communities such as theirs many blacksmiths doubled as farriers, looking after the health of the workhorses.
Eilif has made it her responsibility to watch the little pony on this journey. It must be well cared for. If ill were to befall it, they would have to abandon what few possessions and supplies they still have, and for this tiny group of survivors, that would be utterly disastrous. Her hand seeks signs of heat or tenderness as it slides down the shaggy leg, and she nods with approval to find nothing but good strong muscle and bone. She clicks her tongue in command as she puts pressure on the fetlock and obediently the pony lifts his foot. With a grunt Eilif hoists it onto her slightly bent knee, swearing softly to herself at the spasm of pain the movement causes her healing arm. "It will never heal straight if you keep doing that." she admonishes herself as she uses a small tool to clean out the frog and then check the shoe for fit.
Eilif again nods in satisfaction as she sets the foot back down and straightens up, dusting her hands together carefully. The little one was holding up well. She pats him approvingly on the withers and then turns to lean against the rough log railing of the stall, taking a rare moment of leisure. Her eyes narrow thoughtfully as she watches the Elder complete his daily check on his cart. Like her he knows how important horse and cart are to the group's survival and has been diligent each night to make sure his cart remains sturdy and well maintained. "We will get them there yet, Elder," she calls out to him encouragingly, for today has been a day of driving spring rains that had turned the road to mud. Several times the cart had slewed badly and the pony had almost foundered. She looks up at the clear twilight sky and continues, "I think we have seen the last of that Spring storm. The going should be easier tomorrow."
Adelstienn checks over his cart for signs of wear and tear. He has had this cart a while, having traded a cask of his famous ale for it with a group of foreigners who had visited their city. "Famous ale," he thinks wistfully to himself. "There won't be any more for a bit." He touches the last barrel of his ale on the cart. It seems full and undamaged. The cart had almost overturned a few times in the muddy road but everything seems to have made it to this way post undamaged. He looks up as he hears Eilif's call of encouragement. Not wanting to go back to the room and deal with the others just yet, he goes over to her. "I hope so," he says, "and hopefully the road has time to dry out before we start out tomorrow."
Eilif shivers a little as the brisk breeze that had sprung up with the setting of the sun chills clothes that are still damp from the earlier rain. "It will if this wind keeps up through the night." She beckons the Elder further into the stable where it is more sheltered. "Come in and sit a while," she suggests. "Yon lot can squabble over who gets closest to the fire, and who has to fetch water tonight by themselves a while longer." She ducks under the bar that keeps the pony in its stall and leads the way to the haystack in the corner. Settling herself comfortably on a bale, she reaches into her jerkin and brings out a long carved pipe and pouch. After carefully inspecting the contents of the pouch to make sure they have escaped the day's soaking, she leans her elbows on her knees and packs the pipe before offering the pouch to the Elder. "Do you take a pipe, Elder? It's the last of my Longbottom Leaf from the Shire. Let us hope these elves have heard of it and mayhap keep some to trade."
Adelstienn walks over to Eilif and takes a seat on the hay with her. "I am afraid I left mine in my pack," he answers, nodding towards the way post building, "but I will keep your company as it is." Thinking a moment he continues, "I am not sure if these elves deal in pipeweed or not." Sitting down certainly helps him feel better, for he is not used to such traveling on foot. "I hope my lead brings us there safely so that we can find out though. But I would certainly fancy an ale right now, hot or cold." he shivers a little in the breeze.
Eilif takes a long piece of straw and lights it from the lantern at her feet. She lifts it to her pipe, puffing on it carefully until it is drawing well. Satisfied at last, she licks her thumb and forefinger and pinches them over the glowing end of the straw, well aware of the risk of fire in stables. She leans back against the wall, taking a long draw on her pipe as she does so and sighs with satisfaction. "Aye, your ale would go down very sweetly right now." She taps the end of her nose with the stem of her pipe and looks at the Elder thoughtfully before turning her gaze back to the way station. "It is a lot for you to carry on your shoulders. Elders were never meant to be solely responsible for their people. They are a Council for a reason, to share the load and now you must carry that load alone."
She looks down and plays with the ornate bowl of her pipe a moment, thinking back to when her father first gave it to her. It seems like a relic from another lifetime, another world; a world where everything was ordered and familiar, warm and safe. She shakes her head and shivers again before continuing, her voice slightly hesitant, "I.. I would help if I can. I am not an Elder, but I know enough of the nature of our kind from my business dealings with them and.." she pauses as a burst of rich masculine laughter erupts from the way station, "and I know what it is to carry on alone." She turns her dark eyes to look at Adelstienn. "So, my ears are here to listen, should you need. My words are here to be heard should you wish to listen and," ..this last is said somewhat shyly, "my shoulder is here to lean on, should you get weary."
Adelstienn gives a slight nod to her words. "I admit I do feel the burden pretty hard," he says. He looks at Eilif thoughtfully. He knows of her courage by the sight of her battle wounds. Despite her own injuries she diligently looks after everyone and makes sure they all survive, not just her. She even looks after the pony throughout their journey. He realizes she is a good friend and ally to have. Moreover he is grateful at the thought he is not alone with his burdens. Finally after a bit of thinking he replies, "I do appreciate what you have offered. Your ears, words, and shoulder may be needed by the time we reach the end of our road."
Eilif listens to the soft snuffling of the pony in its feed bucket as she thinks on Adelstienn's words. She knows how hard such an admission must have come, for they of the Khazad rarely ever admit need or ask for help. To her it is a sign of just how sorely Adelstienn has been tested by the disaster that has befallen their clan. She taps the ash from her now cold pipe onto the ground and tucks it back into the inner pocket of her jerkin. She claps him lightly on the shoulder as she rises, but her hand stills and tugs at the still damp cloth of his shirt, and she shakes her head in a half-scolding, half-fussing way. "Well, neither of us will reach the end of that road if we catch our death of cold. If you shall not look after yourself, then I shall have to do it for you."
She nods her head towards the way station. "Come, let us find us both something dry and warm, and see if that lot over there has managed to start a fire and a meal." The small shy smile she gives him belies the gruffness of her words, and as she turns to make her way through the growing gloom to join the others she feels a small warmth inside where before, for so long now, there has only been a cold and utter loneliness.
> Next
Eilif has made it her responsibility to watch the little pony on this journey. It must be well cared for. If ill were to befall it, they would have to abandon what few possessions and supplies they still have, and for this tiny group of survivors, that would be utterly disastrous. Her hand seeks signs of heat or tenderness as it slides down the shaggy leg, and she nods with approval to find nothing but good strong muscle and bone. She clicks her tongue in command as she puts pressure on the fetlock and obediently the pony lifts his foot. With a grunt Eilif hoists it onto her slightly bent knee, swearing softly to herself at the spasm of pain the movement causes her healing arm. "It will never heal straight if you keep doing that." she admonishes herself as she uses a small tool to clean out the frog and then check the shoe for fit.
Eilif again nods in satisfaction as she sets the foot back down and straightens up, dusting her hands together carefully. The little one was holding up well. She pats him approvingly on the withers and then turns to lean against the rough log railing of the stall, taking a rare moment of leisure. Her eyes narrow thoughtfully as she watches the Elder complete his daily check on his cart. Like her he knows how important horse and cart are to the group's survival and has been diligent each night to make sure his cart remains sturdy and well maintained. "We will get them there yet, Elder," she calls out to him encouragingly, for today has been a day of driving spring rains that had turned the road to mud. Several times the cart had slewed badly and the pony had almost foundered. She looks up at the clear twilight sky and continues, "I think we have seen the last of that Spring storm. The going should be easier tomorrow."
Adelstienn checks over his cart for signs of wear and tear. He has had this cart a while, having traded a cask of his famous ale for it with a group of foreigners who had visited their city. "Famous ale," he thinks wistfully to himself. "There won't be any more for a bit." He touches the last barrel of his ale on the cart. It seems full and undamaged. The cart had almost overturned a few times in the muddy road but everything seems to have made it to this way post undamaged. He looks up as he hears Eilif's call of encouragement. Not wanting to go back to the room and deal with the others just yet, he goes over to her. "I hope so," he says, "and hopefully the road has time to dry out before we start out tomorrow."
Eilif shivers a little as the brisk breeze that had sprung up with the setting of the sun chills clothes that are still damp from the earlier rain. "It will if this wind keeps up through the night." She beckons the Elder further into the stable where it is more sheltered. "Come in and sit a while," she suggests. "Yon lot can squabble over who gets closest to the fire, and who has to fetch water tonight by themselves a while longer." She ducks under the bar that keeps the pony in its stall and leads the way to the haystack in the corner. Settling herself comfortably on a bale, she reaches into her jerkin and brings out a long carved pipe and pouch. After carefully inspecting the contents of the pouch to make sure they have escaped the day's soaking, she leans her elbows on her knees and packs the pipe before offering the pouch to the Elder. "Do you take a pipe, Elder? It's the last of my Longbottom Leaf from the Shire. Let us hope these elves have heard of it and mayhap keep some to trade."
Adelstienn walks over to Eilif and takes a seat on the hay with her. "I am afraid I left mine in my pack," he answers, nodding towards the way post building, "but I will keep your company as it is." Thinking a moment he continues, "I am not sure if these elves deal in pipeweed or not." Sitting down certainly helps him feel better, for he is not used to such traveling on foot. "I hope my lead brings us there safely so that we can find out though. But I would certainly fancy an ale right now, hot or cold." he shivers a little in the breeze.
Eilif takes a long piece of straw and lights it from the lantern at her feet. She lifts it to her pipe, puffing on it carefully until it is drawing well. Satisfied at last, she licks her thumb and forefinger and pinches them over the glowing end of the straw, well aware of the risk of fire in stables. She leans back against the wall, taking a long draw on her pipe as she does so and sighs with satisfaction. "Aye, your ale would go down very sweetly right now." She taps the end of her nose with the stem of her pipe and looks at the Elder thoughtfully before turning her gaze back to the way station. "It is a lot for you to carry on your shoulders. Elders were never meant to be solely responsible for their people. They are a Council for a reason, to share the load and now you must carry that load alone."
She looks down and plays with the ornate bowl of her pipe a moment, thinking back to when her father first gave it to her. It seems like a relic from another lifetime, another world; a world where everything was ordered and familiar, warm and safe. She shakes her head and shivers again before continuing, her voice slightly hesitant, "I.. I would help if I can. I am not an Elder, but I know enough of the nature of our kind from my business dealings with them and.." she pauses as a burst of rich masculine laughter erupts from the way station, "and I know what it is to carry on alone." She turns her dark eyes to look at Adelstienn. "So, my ears are here to listen, should you need. My words are here to be heard should you wish to listen and," ..this last is said somewhat shyly, "my shoulder is here to lean on, should you get weary."
Adelstienn gives a slight nod to her words. "I admit I do feel the burden pretty hard," he says. He looks at Eilif thoughtfully. He knows of her courage by the sight of her battle wounds. Despite her own injuries she diligently looks after everyone and makes sure they all survive, not just her. She even looks after the pony throughout their journey. He realizes she is a good friend and ally to have. Moreover he is grateful at the thought he is not alone with his burdens. Finally after a bit of thinking he replies, "I do appreciate what you have offered. Your ears, words, and shoulder may be needed by the time we reach the end of our road."
Eilif listens to the soft snuffling of the pony in its feed bucket as she thinks on Adelstienn's words. She knows how hard such an admission must have come, for they of the Khazad rarely ever admit need or ask for help. To her it is a sign of just how sorely Adelstienn has been tested by the disaster that has befallen their clan. She taps the ash from her now cold pipe onto the ground and tucks it back into the inner pocket of her jerkin. She claps him lightly on the shoulder as she rises, but her hand stills and tugs at the still damp cloth of his shirt, and she shakes her head in a half-scolding, half-fussing way. "Well, neither of us will reach the end of that road if we catch our death of cold. If you shall not look after yourself, then I shall have to do it for you."
She nods her head towards the way station. "Come, let us find us both something dry and warm, and see if that lot over there has managed to start a fire and a meal." The small shy smile she gives him belies the gruffness of her words, and as she turns to make her way through the growing gloom to join the others she feels a small warmth inside where before, for so long now, there has only been a cold and utter loneliness.
> Next