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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

Sorandha

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  • Birthday 09/19/1985

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  1. “I don’t bite young one.” Lia smiled nervously in reply as Miryana lead her to the private room, raising an eyebrow as she listened to the Head Sage tell Anton where she would be dropped off. Sitting as instructed, she sat very still as Miryana examined the wound in her shoulder, worried by her wincing and trying to look confident when she was told there wouldn't be any permanent damage. Watching silently as the other woman handed her the cup, she took it gingerly but was quick to drink the contents, which didn't taste like much of anything. She tensed a bit as Miryana began cleaning the wound. The drink was helping with the pain, but it was only the initial shock of the wound being touched. Shaking her head "no" to the inquiry of whether she had any questions, she silently allowed Miryana to look her over.
  2. “One!” Lia hesitated before swinging the left end of the staff downward, stepping into the swing and a loud “Clack!” as Anton blocked. “Two!” Again she hesitated before repeating the motion shown to her before. As they worked slowly through the numbers, she didn’t always get the motion right, and in some instances she would forget to keep her arms straight or to step forward. Then it was her turn to block as Anton attacked. He kept his word, going slowly as she barely caught some of his swings and nearly tripped as she was stepping backwards; so much of her concentration was on the movements. They repeated the ritual, going back and forth and it took nearly two hours before Lia began to work the movements by rote, no longer having to actively think about it each time he called the number. She began diverting his swings instead of just taking the force of them in a straight block. After finishing a set which had finally been at the pace that Anton had originally set, she was breathing heavily and he lowered his stance. “I think it’s time for a break.” Anton said. He was pleased with the progressed she had made, if however slowly. “No.” Lia’s eyes flashed. She looked up to the sky. “There’s lots of light left, and I don’t want to quit just as I’m getting the hang of it.” She readied her stance more firmly, her golden eyes flashed at Anton determinedly. For too long she had been cooped up in the lodge for healing, her body drank in the exercise and demanded more. A soft smile played on Anton’s lips, it was his turn to attack; and if she felt she was ready to push herself, then he wasn’t going to argue with her. He attacked quicker than before, having prowess at the weapon to know how hard to push her defense without risking her harm. For longer they continued like this, but with a different feel to it. She was forcing herself to work faster at the movements, sometimes swinging before he had had a chance to say the number; he was deflecting her swings trying to throw her off balance. As the sun began to turn towards the west, it was nearing dinner time and they had worked through lunch. Both their stomachs growled, but Lia insisted that she did not want to stop quite yet. Anton no longer called numbers, but instead they easily worked through the smooth movements of sparring with one another. During a rather heated set, Lia was doing a good job of blocking his advances as well as giving a few of her own, when her eyes lit up and she thought she found an opening, she thrust…and as Anton deflected, their staves stuck one another so hard that the tip of Lia’s cracked, a portion about a finger’s width breaking away and flying harmlessly into the distance. Lia began to laugh and they both relaxed their stances. She stretched as Anton checked his staff for damage, her laughter dying down to a chuckle. “I think I’m ready for a break now. And some dinner.”
  3. Holding the staff as though it were some kind of snake, she studied Anton's stance and attempted to copy it. With my luck I'll end up hitting myself... Bringing the top end of the staff around, she slapped it against his staff, doing the same to the bottom. Looking doubtful, it was obvious that she didn't want to hurt him, but it passed in a moment as she took a valiant swing to the right side of his body aiming for the chest area. Obviously Anton blocked it, and her staff bounced off his and then bounced off her head. Pressing a hand to her head, it hadn't hit hard enough to really hurt, she started laughing. I've got to learn to be more serious about this. She chided herself. Retaking the stance, she tried once again to swing it in whichever place she thought his guard may be down. A soft swing towards his left hip, another high ended swing aimed for an open shoulder, and then she got too into it and opened herself up to attack by swinging low at his feet.
  4. While following Anton to the stream and feeling the sensation of distance being compressed, Lia couldn't help but remember this same feeling from her dreams running as a wolf. Is this how I managed to run so fast I thought I could fly? she wondered. Listening to Anton and watching the mist come up to them, she tried to think of how it was he was controlling this environment. Closing her eyes, she tried to think of a breeze, how it felt and sounded. A memory of working hard in the summer sun crouched among the plants, working so deep that they towered over her head and the stifling heat from the ground was nearly suffocating. She remembered finally standing back up and feeling a gentle breeze blow past her, cooling her. Opening her eyes, she noticed that the mist had gotten much higher and she struggled to keep the memory of the breeze in her mind. In her minds eye she visualized the breeze running through the mist, causing it to swirl and break up in patches. As she imagined it, a week breeze did run through, the mist just in front of her legs swirling and dissipating, but she couldn't keep it persistant. With a tired sigh the breeze died and the mist simply reformed.
  5. Shock painted her face as she watched Anton's sleeve change, she she shook her head slightly. "I really don't know about this..." thinking about what had happened in her bedroom, she prayed that she didn't end up embarrassing herself. Holding up her own sleeve, which was cut short in a springtime fashion, she squinted her eyes in concentration. Slowly, ever so slowly, the sleeve grew longer until it was a tight pattern that reached her wrist, and seemingly growing the same small rosebuds slithered down the side of her arm. She gasped and the whole thing reverted back to its original state. Looking more determined, she glared at the sleeve until it was back out to her wrist, and this time it was a looser design with orange ribbons pulling the fabric to bunches at elbow and wrist. She continued to glare at it for about a minute before finally relaxing and the sleeve reverted back. This is beyond weird. She though, glancing at Anton before turning her attention to the chair, she applied the same determined stare at it. Slowly the back of the chair elongated, the design of the wood becoming more elaborate as etchings of woodland creatures seemed to work themselves into the wood along the back. Etchings of leaves covered the arms and legs, and the legs changed to become the bowed legs of a rocking chair before reverting back to its original form. Rubbing her forehead, she sighed. "This is tough. You make it look too easy."
  6. Still giving Anton a quizzical look as she watching him walk away, she closed the door to her room. "First I have weird dreams every night, and he wants me to think of...what?" What he said to her barely made sense, but she got ready for bed anyway. It wasn't hard persay to fall asleep, but she had to keep her mind from wandering as she closed her eyes. It felt as though she had blinked. One moment she's staring at the ceiling, she closes her eyes, and the next she's staring at the same ceiling but it looks...different. The wood seemed to be glowing in a way, and as she sat up she noticed that everything in the room was brighter as well, but it looked less substantial than when she was awake. Standing up, she felt fine fabric rustle against her legs and was shocked to find that she was wearing her best dress, which she had left behind when she fled her previous home. With a thin flowing skirt of pale yellow embroidered elaborately with orange and red rosebuds along the bottom hem and the collar cut in such a way as to expose her shoulders, she wondered how this dress had managed to make it into her dream. The dress flickered back and forth. For a blink of an eye she was in her field dress, dirt stains along the bottom, and another she was wearing her riding clothes which she had made herself; a pair of pants and a fine plain shirt, and even for one blink she was naked! Closing her eyes, she shook her head and was relieved to find the yellow dress when she opened them. She stepped outside to find Anton.
  7. Walking over to the herbs, she crouched down among them to take a very close look. Trying to remember her herbs, her thoughts wandered to her mother's garden. She always managed to keep something for when one of the boys would get in a fight with another, now which...? "I recognize some mardroot, here. For bruises." She continued to dig. Memories of her mother tending the garden together tickled the back of her mind. "Goatstongue, and broomweed." she swallowed "They're for stomachaches." Mother, how many times did you give these to me? "And flatwort. For energy." Her mother had often asked her to aid in making tea with it for her father before a hard day in the fields. Picking up a bit of an herb, she stares at it closely. A memory of a very sick brother and a frantic ride into the city for the Wisdom flashes through her mind. "And feversbane. For living up to it's name." She stood up and dusted her skirt off, subtly brushing a tear away and running her hand through her hair at the same time.
  8. Her scent said she was angry, but a smirk formed as she finished a piece of toast. "When you grow up with four brothers, you tend to be drug along to play their games. They liked to play a game where they threw pebbles at one another in a kind of tag, and of course they loved to pick on their younger sister...until I learned to throw back." The smirk dissappeared and the blush returned. She was far too embarrassed to admit why she had thrown the soap, and she didn't know whether he could see to the stream from the lodge with his heightened eyesight. She swallowed her pride. "I'm sorry, I was still angry at how you woke me. I should not have thrown the soap at you." She glanced out the window. "Please call be Lia, I can't stand being called by my whole name."
  9. Pulling her dress over her head, she sniffed softly. Smoke? It was faint, but still recognizable. Brushing her hair, the water still in it pulled it straight and showed its true length without the wild curls; to the middle of her back, she peered through her bangs and for the hundredth time swore that she would cut them soon. Walking towards the kitchen, the smoke smell was getting stronger. "Anton, is everything o.....k?" the pause brought on when she looked into the kitchen to see him sitting at the table with what looked like very burnt toast and porridge in front of him. The food set out for her looked perfectly fine, though. His scent gave her the idea that he was angry. As though to emphasize the feeling of ruined breakfast and thick silence, a bird twittered outside. Biting her lower lip, she sat down at the table. "So, Lianrin. What were some of the things you noticed that you otherwise wouldn't have? And why did you throw that bar of soap at me?" Anton asked. Using the spoon to play with her porridge, she wouldn't look him in the eye. "I do believe if anyone had come anywhere near me I would have heard them. As it was I could hear birds rustling the leaves. And creatures, but I couldn't tell how far away any of them were. I was paying too much attention too..." again she blushed and fidgeted a bit. "You should be able to figure out why I threw the soap at you." she barely stopped herself from asking if it had hit him or not, she had been running to fast to see.
  10. Rising from a deep sleep, she hadn't even reached half consiousness before she realized that someone was moving her arm...and the blanket was down to her waist...and she was in her shift! With a snarl she gripped the pillow, pushed herself up to a seated position, pulled the blanket up to her neck and smacked the intruder as hard as she could in the mouth with her pillow. Seeing Anton and not Dayn, her older brother, her face turned a deep scarlet. Now she remembered where she is and why. At first she felt relieved at the thought of a bath, but her eyes grew wide and her face redder when he mentioned a stream. Oh, she would be paying attention to her surroundings, all right. Having grown up with four brothers, she had created a very airtight system for keeping her privacy, and she had most assuredly never taken a bath outside! Grabbing the soap and towel after getting dressed, she wondered if she could throw the soap at Anton and cause any real harm. Unfortunately her right shoulder was healing nicely, but not quite up to where it had been before just yet. She growled to herself the entire way to the stream. Staring at the water, she kept trying to look around her in every direction at once. As far as she could see, there wasn't anyone who could be watching her...and then she saw the windows at the lodge facing the stream. She was going to strangle him with the wet towel! Despite her predicament, she could not stand another minute without washing. Undressing faster than she had ever done in her life, she leaped into the water and couldn't help but scream for the cold. Keeping only her head above the water, she kept jerking around to see if anyone was within sight range as well as lifting her arms to be washed, and then sticking her legs up into the air...and then running out of ideas when it came to her torso. Blushing furiously, she stood up in the water but only for a minute to wash herself before dropping back down and finally using the soap in her hair. She felt amazingly better and she was even getting used to the cold. Sneaking into the towel, she ran back to the lodge, narrowly avoiding slipping in the grass with her wet feet, threw the soap at the back of Anton's head and slammed the door to her room behind her. There was a minute of silence, and then the door cracked back open. "Um...Anton?" She spoke so quietly even he could barely hear her. "I..forgot my clothes...could you get it for me?" her scent told that she was nearly overwhelmed with embarrassment.
  11. Lia followed in silence, she'd grown rather quiet after their first initial conversation together. Working through her mind for a kind of acceptance of what was happening to her, she still kept her many urges under a strict thumb while awake. It only made her dreams worse. Part of her sullen silence was the fact that she hadn't been sleeping well. Every night she had another dream about being a wolf, and in each dream she became aware of what was happening, and telling herself that she wasn't an animal. Only once did her dream change and she was human again, but the following morning revealed a splitting headache. As they walked towards the Stedding she lifted her woolen skirts up a bit in order to struggle through the foliage growing thicker and thicker. The part of her who remembered her "past life" sighed to itself and gazed sadly at the plants that could flourish so much better with only some tending. She felt torn between what she was becoming and what she had been. She sensed a little tension in Anton, but because Timewalker did not mirror his mood she thought nothing of it. Hearing the sounds of people on the other side of some thick green low hanging boughs, she wrapped her arms around herself. But no amount of time could have prepared her for seeing the village that seemed to leap from the forest. Hearing his advice about the fellow Wolfkin not acknowledging her, she nodded to herself but still stared warily about. As they finall reached the infirmary, she was halfway to sitting down when she sprang back up again, having not smelt or heard even a hint of Miryana and totally startled when she spoke. Touching her hand to the dressing around her neck, she reluctantly followed Miryana, but not without a glance back at Anton and Timewalker.
  12. Looking at him warily, it was a shock to see that image in her mind. It held itself still, whereas the wolves had "spoken" so quickly that she could never really see what it was they were showing her. She felt like a young child attempting to read for the first time. Spending long minutes in silence, she looked at him finally. "The only name that really fits to that is...Farpaw?" she shook her head a bit, thinking herself foolish.
  13. She carefully ate some stew, thinking politely to herself that he may have overcooked the meat before realizing the meat was in fact still a bit rare and quite good. It was strange how she could think about all these strange things so calmly. It made her feel as though she were the disobedient little girl lost in the woods that her mother used to speak of when she was a child. The memory of that big black wolf in her dreams came to her. "I have to admit, it is a little relieving to know that I'm not going crazy..." she paused for another spoonful of stew. "All those images in my head, and...what does it mean when this loud booming voice scolds you, saying 'Too young'?" Realizing that she may have said too much and sounded very foolish and crazy, she sticks the spoon back in her mouth before finding that she had forgotten to put stew in it first.
  14. She barely kept herself from laughing at his description of his own arrow wound, and covered her smile by taking a drink. She thought quietly to herself. "I never even dreamed that a Stedding...you mean, like Ogiers? I thought only they lived in Steddings, how is it that you say these Wolfkin live there too?" She paused, but only for a breath. "And you say there's more...kin. How many of us are there?" She flinched as she realized she had included herself in it for the first time. Staring at her hands, she turned them over, palms up. "You make this...being a Wolfkin...sound so random. But even so, what would a bunch of wolves...or even Wolfkin...want with me? I have no skills in hunting, I've never even killed anything in my life except for weeds. My brothers all did that.." Her voice trailed off at the end.
  15. A whimper much like a small wolf cub escaped her when his hand touched her. She continued to grit her teeth while he spoke, but when he spoke of returning to her family one day, she looked him in the eyes and her pain subsided to bearable once again. She hadn't noticed that her hands and let go of the waterskin until she felt the cold water through her skirt and picked it back up. When he pulled his hand away and asked about her background, her golden eyes turned dull as she turned in to herself. Not to separate herself from what he asked, but to put those painful thoughts away. "My name...I'm Lianrin al'Emerie. I don't really know how local you could say I am. My home-" she paused, her eyebrows drawing down a little and gesturing with her hand to the distance. "My parents farm is...well, all I really know is that it's a two day journey from there to Emond's Field. I've never seen a map before..."
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