Donovan let a rare smile slip across his face at his friend's words. Ever the cautious one. It was a pity he had seen fit to chose the regular army over the subtlety of the Whisper. He would be well suited to it if he chose to be.

Donovan's eyes flicked for a moment to the scars covering the man's face. It had been a few months since he had seen them he had forgotten them as he always did. For whatever reason he did not see Darin Berghald the way most people did: a scarred, angry and pitiable man. Donovan saw the strength, courage and conviction that lay behind those stony eyes. Here was a man he could respect.

Remaining in his relaxed position, arms crossed and back slack against the wall, Donovan spoke softly. "You should take your time and enjoy the comfort of your room. I am sure that it has missed you as much as you it. When you're refreshed, meet me at the the The Decadent Decanter. We'll talk plenty there." Pushing himself away from the wall with a quick flex of muscle, he started off in the direction of his quarters.

"Oh," Stopping, he turned back to face Darin, a devilish grin on his face. "and don't wear any rank insignia. The new recruits seem to have made it their hang out, and I feel like having some fun. Besides, you look like you could stand a stress free night."

Donovan

It seems obvious to me that the goal is to provide a small committed group of writers to share the burden of writing all of the Chosen, rather than have multiple writers for each Chosen. I believe this is evident in the fact that at least one name appears beside more than one Chosen in the writer's pool.

That said, the way Ata set it out does make it seem counter-intuitive since it appears that you are saying specific writers are sharing specific Chosen.

Is my estimation of things correct Ata?

Donovan watched as hands slowly raised, and the students called out one after the other, not wanting to be outdone. So they think they can ride, do they? We’ll see. His eyes swept over the gaggle, carefully weighing confidence and stature against their enthusiasm. He noticed that one Child -- a girl slowly standing off to the side --  was leaning casually with both hands crossed firmly beneath her breasts. Interesting.

Shifting his gaze back to the center of the group, he let his voice carry over them again. “Alright then, what are you waiting for?” His left hand swept out and he made a quick jerking motion with his thumb towards the horses. “Since you all know how to ride, saddle up!”

They stared at him for a moment, hesitant, before one broke from the pack and made for the horses. The others took notice and quickly rushed to follow, each eyeing the horses carefully as though trying to select the best before mounting cautiously. He turned away as he saw a male Child lifting one of the tail of one of the horses, and approached the girl with the un-raised hand. He caught her arm in his large hand, his grip gentle but unyielding.

She turned at his touch and he registered a look of amusement behind her eyes as he spoke. “You didn’t answer my question.” His voice was soft yet forceful. “Can you ride?”

"If the occasion calls for it." The reply was terse, and not at all what he was expecting. However, it was all that he needed to hear. He loosed her from his grip and nodded down at her.

“What are you waiting for then?” He said, jerking his head towards the two unclaimed horses. “Mount up.”

Umm... as much as I hate to say this: If someone hasn't turned in a night action, I'd suggest Mod-killing.

I know what happened! *shock, gasp* The killer night-killed our mod!!!  :o

So... umm... Mafia seems to have died.

Has it gone tonight yet? *posts to check the time*

Hmmm... *dances*

Stan still hasn't posted. Does someone need to remind him, or should we just vote for him first and see what happens? What do you guys think?

My bagels are made of yummy awesomeness! Almost no poison at all! *shifty look*

T'was strange that he'd not want food. *ponders* He must be evil.

*withholds vote until he's a bit more sure.*

*revels in the cognitive dissonance*

CorenYi wakes up, showers, and cooks a fabulous breakfast spread, inviting everyone over to enjoy it. :D

Congrats, and I'm sure it'll be nice to work under you. *bows before the leader* :p

I'll play! I love mafia :D

Word of the return reached Donovan’s desk within moments of his arrival in the city. A Child was returning alive and, more importantly, successful from a mission. His eyes passed over the note quickly and returned to the other papers on his desk. He had much to do and the affairs of a single Child couldn’t pull him from it.

Berghald

His eyes flitted back to the hastily scrawled note. He had almost missed it in his haste, but there it was plain as the cloak on his back: Child Berghald has returned. For this he could set aside his work.

Taking a few moments to sort his documents, he stowed the majority of them in a heavy steel lock-box which he had painted black when he procured it to cover the markings of it’s origin. Much as he loathed the One Power, he was not above making use of it’s products when they benefited him, and this box was impossible to open by any save the key-holder or a witch. With his work secure, he headed for the domestic quarters to wait for his old friend.

*****

Leaning against the cold stone of the fortress’ walls, his arms crossed patently over his chest, Donovan’s ears perked as he heard booted footsteps approaching. He waited until after the broad figure had rounded the corner before speaking.

“So old friend, is it true what they say? Can you come home again?”

~Donvan Rile

Captain of the Whisper

*picks up a tankard and toasts the four of you* Sam, Winter Mist, Narg, and Lih-Lyh, I'm positive it's going to be a pleasure. I hope you all enjoy your time with us, the Children are lucky to have you.

I still don't understand why the Freelanders need to track minor nobles. It's not like there's a limit on them, so it doesn't really make sense that it would matter at all. After all, minor nobles are a dime a dozen and it seems like an unnecessary expenditure of time.

Fair enough Jade, I'll look into it myself. I was never told by my DL or by the previous bio-checker that such a thing was necessary, and unless they're a major noble, Ie: Heir to the throne of Andor, I don't see why it would matter to the FL. Anyway, you gals have fun, and Good luck in your RPs Crista!

Nice bio, hope you have fun with the character.

On an alternate note, what about this bio required a Freelander Crosscheck? As far as I can tell there's nothing that effects the Freelanders at all in it. Maybe I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure I'm not.

His arms crossed over his chest, Donovan leaned back against the side of the stables and waited for his students to arrive. Thirteen horses stood calmly tethered to a section of corral directly across from him. Thirteen horses for twelve students.

Each had been informed of the hour and location of their newest class, and slowly they started to file in. Girl, boy, boy; Donovan couldn’t help but think that the new recruits got younger every year. Children for the Children. It might have been poetic if he didn’t already know what awaited them behind these walls.

He continued leaning in the shadows of the barn until well after the last student had arrived and they all began to mill about. As soon as the talking raised above a low whisper, he heard a voice wondering aloud where their teacher was. That was his cue.

“He’s over here.” Donovan made certain that his voice carried well above those of the recruits. The sudden silence echoed in the early morning air as he stepped calmly out from the shadows and glowered at his pupils.  He always loved this part. “And may I just say, that was a wonderful display of alertness. Were I a dark friend you’d all be dead, you sad sacks of shit. Basic survival little ones, always be aware of your surroundings. Lucky for the lot of you that survival isn’t our lesson today.”

His scowl split into a bright grin as he sized the group up. He loved shaking the greenhorns up a bit in his lessons. Did well to keep them on their toes, and ensured that they were paying attention. “Now how many of you know how to ride a horse?”

~Donovan Rile

Donovan winced as he lowered himself to the ground. His shirt was soaked through with sweat and blood, and if the bleeding hadn’t, the pain would have told him his wound was open again. He looked up at Jitters with a sigh and realized that what few supplies he had were still in the saddle bags. With a groan that started as exasperation, but quickly shifted to pain, he began the laborious task of dragging himself upright to retrieve his things.

It was supposed to be a bloody reconnaissance mission but, of course, nothing ever works out the way it’s supposed to. His hand grasped feebly at the metal stirrup as the scene played through his head for what felt like the hundredth time. He had taken it upon himself to locate and follow a small group of those damned Tar Valon witches that had been rumored to be in the area. He knew that the Lord Captain would be interested in whatever information he could bring about the delegation.

Pain tore through his side like thunder through a clear sky, and his hand groped blindly through his saddlebags for his things. Everything had been fine for the first two days. The witches had been clueless to his presence, and he had managed to gather some good intel. On day three, his luck had run out. One of the witches’ watch dogs had gotten the drop on him.

He had given as good as he got, but those freaks were unnaturally quiet. So quiet that Donovan had only barely managed to avoid a killing blow and get an axe in hand to fight back. The gash in his side was his reward for his negligence, and now he wasn’t certain he’d even make it back to Amadacia, let alone the next town. That Light blasted Warder was probably getting his leg reattached while he was stuck here fumbling for something to wrap his wound with.

He set about to the task of shredding his few remaining shirts to wrap his wound. Every motion sent agony through his body, but as long as he was still breathing he would do what he could to survive. Of course, he doubted he’d be much longer for the world anyhow. The witches would likely be on his trail soon enough, and he was in no real state to move, especially not quickly.

Once he had the shirts torn, actually wrapping his side presented a whole new world of difficulties. He collapsed against a tree and let himself sag to the ground. He tried everything he could think of to get the strips tight across his chest, but he just didn’t have the strength. Sweat pooled on his chest as he let his head loll pathetically against the tree, and he looked up at his great lump of a horse with resignation in his eyes. “I hope you’re comfortable pal, because I don’t think anyone’s going to be taking that saddle off of you for awhile.”

Jitters merely snorted and lowered his head to graze carefully around the blood. “Yeah, that’s right bud, thanks for the help”

~Donovan Rile

Handle: Ata and Wintermist

Character Name: Myrrima and Mara

Email address: Liitha.Gaidar@gmail.com , laraluvitt@googlemail.com

Division: Freelanders

Age: 27

Gender: Female

Physical Description: 1.65 m , 65 Kg, blue-green eyes, long darkbrown hair.

Place of Birth/Raising: On the road

Parents : Acoma and Eriala

Character History:

Born in the autumn, and it was cold and crisp, with sunlight and a nip to the air. The screams of two identical twin sisters broke the evening air in the tinkers camp, and two new members had come to the world that togheter in the years to come would cause both laughter and headache for their parents and relatives. The two identical girls grew up to good values though under their parents secure hands, and they held their parents as rollemodels. But more then anything the girls would love to follow their grandmother Nacoya around, and from her they would learn how to collect food and medicine from the nature, always keeping alert to their soroundings.

As Tinkers most their home was the road while seeking for the song, and they would learn a multitude of skills, taking the jobs avaliable where they stoped to earn money. And though mischivious at times, they also was deeply in belif of the way of leaf, never to hurt anyone, nor pick up a weapon. Seldom apart, and hardly ever bickering like most siblings do, they while alike also had their own identities which had been encuraged, and beyond all an almost unatural strong bond, like that identical twins may have at times. It wouldnt be unrare for them to finish eachothers sentances, or naturaly fall into pace with helping eachother in a worktask, where other would be bether served to use the time to do the task alone as cooperation without the same rythm would but cause a mess instead of see the work done sooner.

It was in a larger meet up just after their 16th birthday that their mother for the first time would allow them to dance the Tiganza togheter with the other women infront of the men. It was a debut bether then they could have wished for, with the moon up full in the clear sky, the last of the summers heat still hanging in the air due to an late and unuslay fine autom. The rythms and song carying through the air with a magic sound to it, and soon entering their young boiling blood. Sweaty before leaving the dance place to withdraw to a younger party, talking, singing, laughing long into the night with those of their own age in the outskirt of the camp somewhat away from the watchfull eye of the adult.

Within the next couple weeks in especialy Myrrima would get close to one of the boys of another caravan, and in the heat of the last night under a diming moon part covered by skies, the rythms still runing hot in her blood she would sneak away with him. In the months to come she would learn the consequences of her choise, but comforted by her parents and not in least her sister, she started daydreaming. Hoping for the day they'd meet again and the posibilites of arangements to be made.

It would be summer again, and it was with a babe on her arm sitting on the wagons that she expectadly would look towards the other caravan as they had found and tracked them down. Grave news awaiting, the boy had been lost during the winter, her hopes crushed she would grive for the father her child would never know. But took some comfort in the joy of the other grandparents, sadened to have lost a son who couldnt follow the way, they rejoyced in having a grandson after their only son.

And so Myrrima's son in so many ways grew up with two mothers in the place of a normal mom and dad, but lacked for nothing, and in the end turned out as most boys, though with the same set belif on the way as his mother and aunt had. Something in especialy Mara would see to, having seen her sister go through the grief of loosing a potential mate to the lost ones, she took special care to raise and see too that the boy was adapted to the way of the leaf. Cause even though she knew her sister had moved on, and did follow custom in not speaking of the lost one's, she knew her well enough to know she had never forgoten, and in the odd moments could catch her staring blankly out over open fields at all or nothing with a wondering lost look.

At 27 both the women is taking on a mature look, confident in their ways, with a slim yet strong figure from all the work, and a permanent tan from beeing outdoor so much. Miranda's son just turned 10 and all in all bears no marks of the lack of a father in his life.

Menno

Mahdi

Height: 5’5”

Age: 76

Weight: 188lbs

Char Description:

To look at Menno now, it would be difficult to imagine him a dashing young man fifty years earlier.  However, seventy-six years on this earth wasn’t usually conductive to keeping one’s beauty though he does still manage to remain relatively lean and avoid appearing frail.  His short, wiry beard does a decent enough job covering the loose skin under his chin but not even the constant hats he wears, to hide his mostly bald scalp, can hide the fact that he is old- a fact that he tries to deny to his daughters who attempt to coddle him.

Plagued by severe arthritis in both knees and his left hand, Menno is forced to hobble around with the help of a stout cane.  Despite his affliction, he is not hunched by age, though it has shrunken him.  Once tall, Menno barely passes for average height anymore and so loves the countryside of Cairhien where he can pretend he isn’t as old as he is.  However, age has lent him a great deal of wisdom.  Daes Dae’mar is as foreign to him as fashion but between his lifetime of travels and love for plantlife, Menno is as knowledgeable in plants as any scholar and he takes a certain pride in his ability to impersonate the accents of every nationality around the world- he even spent a year perfecting his Seanchan accent.

Music means as much to Menno as plants.  He is a master drummer and was an excellent fiddler until his left hand was crushed.  The hand is crippled and has lost nearly all of its dexterity from a beating Menno received mid-way through his forties.    His knees were also severely damaged in the same incident and since then he had been forced to walk with the cane.

Char History:

“Here, let me cut that for you.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Stubborn fool, your hand’s shaking so badly you’re like to cut your neck.”

Menno sighed and let his wife finish trimming the left side of his beard.  It irked him that he couldn’t even get ready properly in the morning without help and it was only getting harder with time.

“Would you like me to comb your hair while I’m at it?”

“I’ll get it.”

She snorted but kissed his mostly-bald crown and combed the thin hairs that clung to the sides of his head anyway.  Menno simply stared at his grey, aging self in the mirror.  Light preserve him, when had he gotten so old?  When he closed his eyes, he could still remember the perfect, dashing smile of sixty years before.  In fact, he could bring the entire memory of when he had first watched Nacoya dancing the tiganza.  He had stolen a kiss that night behind the wagons and two months later, they were married.

Blink.

Eriala lay sleeping soundly in his arms, as he hummed a lullaby.  He was twenty-six and there wasn’t a prouder father to be found.  They had tried before, but Nacoya had given birth to stillborns three times already and she was still resting from the labour.  Tenderly Menno kissed her forehead as the baby squirmed at the feel of his stiff, black whiskers.

Blink.

He was forty-three and screaming in pain.  The lord had his left hand pinned under his boot while a pair of guards crushed his knees, pinning them to the ground.  A third guard was kicking him in the ribs.  They had left his right hand free.  It was entirely possible for him to push at least the lord of his other hand at any time and yet for him it was entirely impossible.  He would gain nothing from struggling except a sword through his ribs while by beating him, the lord and his minions would accomplish nothing except steeping themselves in guilt for the rest of their lives.  Menno’s punishment would only further convince the lord’s son that the Way of the Life was the right way.

Blink.

“Menno, are you falling back asleep?”

“No, just resting.”

“You just woke up!”

“An old man isn’t entitled to a moment’s rest?”

“Since when have you admitted you’re old?”

Kiana din Altas “Maelstrom”

Windfinder

28

5’9”

130lbs

Char Descrip:

Slim, Kiana isn’t nearly the giant her brother, Felix, is, being only slightly above average height for a woman.  As long hair on a generally windy ship is annoying to keep out of the way, her hair is cropped short and out of the way.  Mind you, this doesn’t do much to hide her jutting cheekbones.

Clan Tattoo: sea serpent twined around a blade whose pommel was a star

Sept Tattoo: trident crossed with a spyglass

Char History:

Well, to hear Kiana tell it, she was born in the middle of a raging storm and just as the ship was getting sucked into an enormous whirlpool, her father managed to pull the Storm Spear out of danger.  Of course, her birth was nothing of the sort and she wasn’t even born in a gale, let alone a hurricane.

Instead, Kiana earned the nickname from the abnormal amount of energy she had as a child, and still has when she’s intent on antagonizing her brother.  Watching her run from one end of the ship, to the other, her father had once remarked that if she didn’t stop, they’d get sucked down into a maelstrom.  The nickname had stuck with the rest of the crew.

Being the younger of two children, her brother Felix was her elder by five years, Kiana was generally spoiled and developed the habit of irritating her brother just to see if she could get away with it.  The habit stuck even when Felix just began taking “justice” into his own hands.  Justice that was easily exacted seeing as little Kiana was a foot shorter and well over a hundred pounds less.

The discovery of her ability to channel evened the score somewhat though while she might be able to soak him or swat him with a simple weave, usually she’d find herself unceremoniously chucked from the deck later on that day.

For all their bickering, Kiana refused to leave her brother’s side even after he married onto his wife’s ship and Lael din Ciwa was so conveniently in need of a Windfinder.  Since the Storm Spear already had its own, the young woman found herself happily settling back at her brother’s side, or perhaps being the thorn she was, settling “in” her brother’s side might be more accurate.

I warned you it'd likely be a problem Genna. I'll get to talking to folks and see what we need to do to work this out. You may have to make some changes.

Name: Felix din Ciwa 'Riptide'

Features: 6′10″, 139kg, while he is thin he is still well muscled. His naturally dark skin hides the fact that he spends a great deal of time outdoors, be it on land or sea. Face: Strong cheekbones and jaw, fairly lean face. Slightly slanted hazel eyes and a sharp nose, he is consistently clean shaven and likewise keeps his scalp free of hair.

Age: 33

Place of Origin: The Storm Spear

Bio:  Once upon a time, there was a man and a woman.  The man and the woman loved each other very much.  One day, the man and the woman created children with their love, and that's the story of how you came to be.

This was what Felix was told when he was five years old.

Felix was told a lot of things when he was five.  For example, the tattoo on the back of his left hand of a sea serpent twined around a blade whose pommel was a star, that was the mark of his clan.  On the palm of the left hand was a trident crossed with a spyglass, and he was told that that was the mark of his sept, his family.  He was told that when he grew up, he would be a fine sailor, and he would make his sept proud.  He was told to be true, faithful and that he could trust anyone who bore the same marks on their left hand.  He was told that his family was his responsibility.  That a ship was only as fine as the crew that sailed him.  That the ship was more than a vessel, it was his home.

It was these, amongst many things, that shaped Felix.

Growing up upon his family's ship, The Storm Spear, he was one of two children with his sibling being a sister who was called Kiana.  Always protective of her, they constantly bickered in a friendly play back and forth.  Even when she was found to be able to channel, that did little to change the dynamic between them.  All that changed really was that when Kiana wanted to pour water on Felix, she didn't need a bucket to achieve the feat.  Even though it meant that he would have to

When a certain young woman called Lael stumbled upon their ship one dark and stormy night, Felix was naturally rather intrigued.  Intrigue led to romance, after a hiccup or two, and he ended up marrying her and with Lael's commission of a new ship to act as sailmistress, the best choice for a windfinder proved to be his sister, Kiana, meaning that he didn't have to leave her behind which he was afraid of.  As Cargomaster of the newly crafted a'dendore, or 'Sundancer', an adaptable Soarer that would see many roles as a; merchant, fighter, explorer and more over the years that followed as they sailed under Clan Tanaka.

―-

Because the original bio didn't 'effectively communicate how Felix's height affected his sense of being in the world' or some other rubbish, this rewrite also had a small RP attached which is listed below, simple and easy.

―-

Felix smirked as he slipped into his hammock, facing away from his younger sister as he affected a ridiculously low tone.  "Big Felix tall, little Kiana small.  Big Felix thinks little Kiana should go sleep, what does little Kiana say?"

Kiana snorted and momentarily resisted the urge to throw something at him.  Mainly because there was nothing around to throw.  "Little Kiana is going to tip big Felix over soon if he doesn't tell her just what's been going on with a certain lady aboard ship."

"Ugh, leave me alone!"  Curling up in the hammock, Felix waved a hand behind him as if to shoo her away before putting his arms around his face.  If he couldn't see her, perhaps she would go away or at least stopping asking him questions.  She was always nosy.  Normally he wouldn't have minded, he would have simply been difficult for the sake of teasing her, but Lael was a different matter altogether.

Leave him alone?  Not bloody likely.  Besides, she was rather enjoying tormenting him as it was usually the toehr way around- him being bigger and everything.  Besides, despite being 6′10″ and the image of althelitism, he had no defence against the Power and what were little sisters for except to abuse said Power whenever possible.  And, of course, being the type true to her word, a simple flow of Air tipped his hammock over.  "Tell!"

"Oof!"  Falling flat on the boards, Felix grumbled as he got to his feet and walked over to Kiana.  Grinning at him of course, or perhaps a smirk would have been more accurate.  Either way, he made her look up before he deliberately made for her ribs and began to tickle them as much as possible.  Good luck to her holding the power when it made her ten times as sensitive to everything around her.

The minute he got up, she considered the wisdom of dumping him out of his hammock.  Warning bells began ringing harder and harder inside her skull and she was just about to scout backwards, heedless of slivers in uncomfortable places from the deck, when he went for her ribs.

Screeching, the Power fled in advance of gasped laughter.  Tears began to leak from her cheeks while attempting to squirm away.  "Not fair!  Lemme go!"

"Oh no you don't!"  Tickling her even harder as he followed her attempts to win free, it wasn't long before he had her pinned on the ground as she flailed about attempting to get free.  One of the advantages of being significantly bigger and stronger than his sister was that, while she could easily get him with her air weaving, sooner or later it would come back to haunt her like this.  "Going to give up?  Hmm?  Going to let me be?  Huh?

Again, not bloody likely.  But as things were, she wasn't about to say that out loud.  Oh, and about that keeping her word thing- guidelines were glorious things.  Screeching again amidst tears, she tried to gasp out "Yayayayaya, just lemme go!"

Laughing, Felix took a moment longer before desisting, Kiana still laughing and trying to get her breath as she curled up.  Ruffling her hair, Felix got to his feet and made for his hammock once again, he was going to sleep and that was that, even if it was early it didn't really matter.  Tomorrow was what he was looking forward to, and that was what was on his mind now.  The storm was due to break, and then he'd be taking Lael over to her ship.  That part was something that he was unhappy about, but he'd get to see her ship and then he'd know how to find her at least.

Finally being let go of.  Kiana crawled across the deck to lean against the wall while her brother went back over to his hammock.  Despite the rocking of the ship, both had been practically born on the sea and so stable land beneath them was more likely to hinder movement that just a rocking deck.  And now that she was safely away from him (enough so that if he came at her again she'd have time enough to block him with the Power) she persisted in pestering.  "So… Lael.  Knocked her up yet?"  Kiana prided herself on her innocent grins.

"Kiana!"  Looking around at her in shock, Felix then frowned as he realised that was exactly the reaction she was looking for.  Turning away again, Felix decided he was going to speak once and then he was going to sleep regardless of what she said.  Not something he wanted to joke about.  "No, I haven't 'knocked her up'.  And I'm telling mum you said that."  At that, Felix went silent.

Kiana cackled.  "Shame.  No nieces or nephews for me.  And besides, what's mum going to do?  She can't very well punish me without punishing you first.  And then I'd have company to torture while I "hang by my toes from the mast"."

"Don't you dare, I mean it."  Felix was not happy with where this was headed, if he couldn't tell mother then he was stuck with Kiana bothering him about it.  It wasn't even a sure thing, he didn't know how Lael felt.  He knew what he hoped she felt, and he was hopeful, but at the same time he wasn't.  When women saw him they didn't see him, they saw how tall he was and were intrigued but that was about it.  "Can't you just go away and let me go to sleep?"

"Let you sleep?  Far too early for that.  Unless you'd like to tell me why exactly you're so tired when you've spent all day holed up inside.  Something particularly tiring you'd like to tell me about?" she giggled madly across the room.  No doubt he'd get her back for this later, but until then she'd have her fun.

Growling, Felix suppressed the urge to get up and find something to throw at her.  Not only was it the wrong thing to do, he also knew it would be for all intents and purposes useless.  She could catch anything with air before it made even half the distance, though the fact that he even contemplated that irritated him more.  So instead he just kept his peace, or tried to at least, as he pointedly ignored her.

All she got was a few grumbles.  Highly disappointing!  This just wouldn't do, she would not be ignored!  Peeved, she embraced the Source again and drew the water out of the cabin air and collcted it over her brother's muttering head.

SPLASH!

…

Nothing.  Raising an eyebrow, Kiana crossed the cabin and sat down on the edge of his hammock.  "What's up Felix?"

The water wasn't expected, but it wasn't unusual, either way it didn't improve Felix's mood at all.  But at least the teasing stopped, instead Kiana was now sittong on the hammock and asking him what was wrong.  It took a moment, but he sighed as he gave in, even though he didn't turn around.  "She leaves tomorrow.  I have to take her back to her ship, I really want to see it, but I don't want her to go either.  I don't know whether she'll still be interested in me after she's back at her ship, I want to find out but I don't."

Nodding solemnly, she mulled it over for a moment.  "Then ask her, stupid."  Despite the bluntness, the insult was tender. "You've got nothing to lose anyway.  On one hand, she doesn't and she goes back to herself so you never have to deal with that again.  And on the other hand, she does and you two can work something out.  If you don't ask, you'll never know and you'll beat yourself up wondering about it for the next year… or longer."

Snorting, Felix shook his head.  "And what if she doesn't just say no?  What if I manage to freak her out altogether because she never thought of me that way to begin with?  I'm not exactly normal, if you hadn't noticed.  The idea of a giant being interested in her might be a bit unsettling don't you think?"  Same reason the other girls weren't interested.  He was just too big to even enter their thinking, he just was, simple as that.

Kiana laughed.  "You never were normal."  Leaning down, she hugged her brother.  He seemed to need it.  "Even then, you don't ever have to see her again if you don't want to.  But from what I've seen of you two, somehow I don't think it's your height she's staring at."

"Maybe, I don't know."  Still, Kiana's words and hug were nice, maybe she was right.  Hopefully, he hoped Lael saw more than a novelty, but the only way he was going to find that out was tomorrow if he plucked up the courage to ask her.  That was another wave to be crested altogether.  Reaching up for one of her arms that was wrapped around him, he looked up at her.  "Thank you.  I just…  I don't know, never felt like this about someone before.  Its never really mattered until now."

She grinned back at Felix, glad their talk seemed to have cheered him up a bit.  "Good thing, else I'd have to harass you about not telling me about her.  And you'll owe me details of course."

"Only if she says yes."  He wasn't talking about it at all if she said no, it wasn't a possibility he liked to entertain.  But, at least Felix didn't have to answer for that as Kiana simply patted his arm and let him be, thinking about Lael until sleep took him blissfully into its dark embrace.