Dark of Night

Dark of Night: Part Two
Dark of Night: Part Three



Characters:

Windige

Malrath and Perion D'havok





       Windige moaned quietly, her eyes fluttering open, the familiar emerald green eyes glancing around herself frantically. "Am I... am I a kit again?" She asked in her quiet voice, so unused to being held. She couldn't see very well, only silhouettes, but from emotional probing, she knew it was Malrath and Perion. "Ah.." She closed her eyes again as her head lolled, "My head hurts... What's going on?" Tears sprang to her eyes and she began to squirm in his arms, "What did he do to me?!"

"Uh, looks like he made you a lot easier to carry," Perion said.

Malrath pulsed for a moment with annoyance, and he glared up at his brother. "Do you... want to see what the wizard did?" he asked tentatively, his emotions tinged with worry.

She swallowed, her breathing shallow, but she nodded resolutely. "I need to know."

Malrath reached into a belt pouch, now exposed since he had given Windige his cloak, and pulled something from it. Then, closing his eyes, he concentrated briefly, and a moment later, four balls of soft yellow light sprang into existence around the dökkálfar. He gave Windige a moment to adjust to the light and look down at her new body.

A sharp intake of breath was her only reaction, as her new hands explored and touched, happy that at least she had some of the same features in her ears. "So... these are breasts." Windige stated, touching one of the mounds cautiously, then she looked up at Malrath sharply. "Why can I still sense your emotions? Did his spell... not work fully?" She didn't understand... why was she still alive? And, why of all things did she appear human?

Perion snorted while Windige explored herself but held his tongue, though he pulsed with amusement and a small amount of desire that faded as the dökkálfar pushed those thoughts away. He sat down and stared out, into the darkness as his emotions turned to pain, from having engaged in such activity while his ribs were still healing.

Malrath just shrugged. "I don't know, ussta jallil. And yes, those are breasts. You probably don't want to play with them too much." He debated with himself whether to go through with it, but in the end, he sighed inwardly. "And... here." He produced the small object he had retrieved from his belt pouch. It was a tiny, steel mirror, and he handed it to her edge-side-on. "Only look if you want to, if you think you can handle it."

Windige wiped away her angry tears, a little confused at Perion, but she took the small object from him and looked back at herself. "I really am.. well sort of, human." This frustrated her. Her body started to shiver slightly, from shock of it all, and her tears began anew. Though she was silent in her predicament and returned the mirror. "I am in the body of everything I hate." Windige whispered, her voice breaking.

Malrath took the mirror and pocketed it again, then remained in a crouch before Windige. He said nothing, instead staring levelly at her, watching the Himmel's--human's--breakdown. As he and Perion had always dealt with their troubles on their own, so he thought Windige must contend with her feelings; he knew no other recourse. But below the calm gaze that bordered on emotionless simmered one thing that Windige could pick up: uncertainty.

One of her hands touched delicately at her burn, letting out a soft gasp at the pain of it, "Dammit..." Angrily she wiped her eyes again, her ears flicking backwards as it clearly showed her emotions, "Okay, what's our plan? We need to get out of here." Windige tried to stand up, but lost her balance and fell. The air was knocked out of her and she tried to catch her breath on the ground, the blood evident among her lightly olive skin.

"Be careful," said the dökkálfar, reaching down and helping Windige to her feet. "It looks like your new body will require some getting used to." He glanced over at Perion, who rose and dusted himself off, though he still looked the worse for wear. "The plan is, I'll climb up and around this rubble and see if I can knock enough of it free to climb out and drop a rope down."

"Um..." Windige swayed before leaning against a giant piece of rubble, "The Lavabeests... they tunneled deep into the land, I'm sure there is an entrance or exit somewhere or another." She didn't feel like walking, but she thought it would be a good idea to mention it. Then she shivered. "Humans are so weak..." Windige missed her fur right about now, rubbing her arms with her human hands.

"Yes," Perion said with a pained smile, "they are." He emphasized the word, showing his distance from such a race.

"Anyway," Malrath replied to Windige, "while there may be other exits to be found, there's one right up there that we already know about. Perion and I may be creatures of the Deep, but we have spent little time there during our lives. Best not to get lost in these tunnels, especially when we have no supplies." As he finished speaking, the lights he had created a few minutes ago winked out of existence, plunging them all into darkness once again.

Malrath moved to a combined stalagmite/stalactite. In the utter darkness, his movements could only be heard as he shimmied up the column and to the top, where he expertly moved along the ceiling by climbing amongst the smaller stalactites and stopped before the top of the rubble. Digging through it for only a few moments revealed a small point of light would have been invisible to anyone but a dökkálfar, as it was night, and no moon shone overhead.

Perion moved over to Windige and touched the cloak covering her shoulder. "Malrath says he's found a way out, and he'll be back in just a minute with some rope," said the younger brother as Malrath slipped through the hole he had made, knocking loose a bit of scree that settled after a few moments.

"Ah... Thanks." Windige sighed lightly, wincing at her chest while she pulled the cloak more tightly around her. She was not doing this out of modesty, but rather her new human skin was very weak to low temperatures. "I wonder..." She started talking to Perion, a slight tremble in her voice but she was keeping most of her emotions at bay pretty well, "I'm still alive, and I can sense your emotions. Maybe I can still fly..." Windige knew she was too weak to do much right now, but she had already decided to try later.

"That was... quite a unique spell," Perion said. "What were they after again? Your elemental essence? I wonder what I'd have become if I'd gotten hit by that. Probably a squid or something equally as useless," he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"I guess," Windige shrugged, the motion much more natural then when she was in her real form. Though, to her effort, she tried to smile, looking more like a grimace. "I don't think it worked right at all, and I think they are going to be surprised when they find out I'm alive." She showed her teeth to the darkness, anger in her small frame.

"Wait, you don't even think it worked?" Perion sputtered. "Then they're going to be more than just surprised. They're going to be angry, the kind of angry I don't want to be near when it explodes. They'll come back to find us." He paused, thinking. "Though, we could probably find some way to conceal you, since Malrath and I are hard to track with magic..."

Above, gravel skittered about and tumbled down the side of the rubble heap. "You two still alive down here?" Malrath called into the darkness.

"I... I don't think it did what they wanted. I think that they took my form, and not the 'essence' you are talking about." Windige glanced up sharply, her ears flicking forward and happy to see Malrath again, "Still here!" She called, raising her pleasant soprano voice so that it reached him. Then, in a quieter voice to Perion, "We should do something soon, before they realize I'm alive."

Her 'quiet' voice wasn't too low to be heard by Malrath, who snorted. "Yes, we should do something," he replied. "Perhaps we should have you wear your bracelet again? You know, the one you slipped into the saddlebags while we weren't looking." He did not sound pleased as he rappelled down the rubble and stopped at the base, glaring down at Windige even though she couldn't see him in the dark. "I'm going to ignore the nagging voice in the back of my head telling me to leave you down here, but only this time, ussta jallil." He held out the rope, which suddenly burst into faint, violet flames that illuminated the darkness like a candle; the light was just enough to see the rope. Then, with his other hand, he took Windige's and hauled her to her feet and helped her find the rope. "Climb," he said testily.

Windige didn't do as he commanded, but her emerald eyes found his, staring as she probed his emotions. "I'm sorry, Malrath. I thought it would be alright if I put it back while I was sleeping, like you had said, I had forgotten to put it back on." Hesitantly, her hand touched his again, "I'm sorry," She repeated.

Malrath's fist tightened under Windige's touch. "Words, later," he managed through gritted teeth. "Perion, can you climb?"

"Probably," said the lithe dark elf, who took up the rope and, despite his injuries, made his way gracefully up the cable and out through the hole.

Malrath turned back to Windige and spoke in a calmer voice, though his emotions still simmered in Windige's supernatural senses. "If you can't climb, I can tie you to the rope and pull you up."

Leaning back against the stone, Windige kept his gaze, then looked up where Perion had disappeared. She withdrew her hand and clutched at the his cape that she wore and closed her eyes. Her features were frustrated and with some effort, Windige- now humanoid began to hover. Now looking down at Malrath, she actually smiled and brightened up her pretty face, "I'm not human!" Windige exclaimed, excited as she rose up higher until she reached the roof, climbing out awkwardly.

"I'dol ulu kruk lil kyreshorl," Malrath muttered to himself before he ascended the rope and emerged under the night sky. He looked over at Perion as he coiled the rope up. His little brother stood, heaving from the exertion of climbing and intense pain in his torso.

"I think... I'm pretty spent for the day," Perion gasped, his breath making steam in the chill night air.

Her teeth chattering, Windige looked around, still a little unsteady on her feet as she crouched. "C-can we b-build a fire?" Windige asked, her feet going numb in the cold.

Malrath looked as though he were about to reply with a snide remark, but Perion flashed several signs with his hand, and the elder brother's ire deflated somewhat. "Yes. I don't want to travel with both of you in this condition." He stalked off to gather firewood from a nearby copse of gnarled trees.

Perion staggered over to where Malrath had tied the horse after finding it again. Groaning, he gently settled himself on the ground.

Windige shuffled over to Perion and sat next to him, vigorously chattering away in the cold and cuddling up to the smaller brother. He didn't seem angry at her at all, and she didn't want to test Malrath's patience.

"He won't be angry with you forever," Perion reassured her after a few minutes of silence. Malrath still had not returned. "It'll just seem like it," he added cheerfully, though his weariness bled through to his voice.

She put her arm around him, "I didn't know this would happen... and I'm sorry Perion," Windige grew frustrated again, as this body broke down in tears easily, but it distracted her from the cold. Her teeth resumed chattering, but she closed her eyes and tried to focus, and the air began to slowly gain in warmth.

Perion shrugged, uncomfortable with the intimacy of the Himmel-humanoid's touch. "Malrath would say that 'sorry' is useless when you're dead. I'm not him; I wouldn't bother saying anything at all. But I agree." His emotions were unclear and tinged mostly with exhaustion, but he didn't seem to hold any anger. "Here's what happened: you underestimated your enemies. You didn't want to wear the veil bracelet we gave you, even though we told you it would hide you from the wizards. So, you took it off, thinking that you could overcome them, even though you didn't even know how many of them there were, nor how powerful they were." He scratched his head and pulled out a flask from under his cloak, taking a swig. "Ah, now that's better," he sighed, leaning his head back and enjoying the alcohol.

Withdrawing her arm, "You two said I could take it off while I slept." When she was a Himmel, they dismissed her affections, now all of a sudden that she was... humanoid... they were uncomfortable. Shouldn't it be the other way around? Windige didn't voice her own confusion, "The only thing I've ever worn is a collar, and that saddle. Is it really my fault I forgot that simple trinket?"

Perion cleared his throat and took another mouthful of whatever alcohol he had brought along. Whatever it was, it smelled potent. "Technically, yes," he said by way of explanation. "You wanted to take it off, and there really wasn't any way for 'Mista Gabonno Mbonja' and 'Jhalil' to force you to wear it. Hell, even outside the constraints of our disguises, we wouldn't be able to make you do anything you didn't want to. Well, at least until now." He glanced around, looking to see if Malrath had brought back wood yet. "Look at it this way... you didn't wear the trinket, so yes, it's your fault. By the same token, when that giant hit me and I fell... that was my fault. I'm not going to deny it; I should have hung back and let my brother deal with them. He's our source of brute strength, not me."

A few moments later, Malrath returned. To Windige's senses, his emotions had cooled off, though by the garbled fluctuations of feelings she was receiving, it was clear he may have been trying to hide his emotions altogether. He gave no token as to whether he had heard any part of the conversation between Perion and Windige, and he set about lighting a fire in silence and tending it until it became a roaring blaze. He flexed his fingers slightly, and Perion chuckled in response.

Windige settled to herself, still trying to keep herself warm and unused to such weakness, she dwelled upon the first emotions that she had sensed from Malrath when she had first been changed. "Why uncertainty, Malrath?" The Himmel-made-human uttered quietly.

The dökkálfar's silver-bedecked ear twitched in response to hearing his name. He said nothing for several long moments, staring into the flames behind the protection of his dark glasses. Then, at length, he turned. "Yes, ussta jallil? You wish to speak to me?"

"Earlier." Windige muttered, "when I came to, you were looking at me, I felt your gaze. I felt your uncertainty." She was shivering, but to her credit she said it without breaking the words of in a chatter.

Perion closed his eyes and listened to the other two. "Ghil ol chu," he muttered to himself.

"Oh, really?" Malrath said to Windige. "Perhaps I was uncertain as to what to do, perchance?" His eyes darted to his brother's dancing hand, then back to Windige. He looked as though he were about to say more, then thought better of it. Turning back to the fire, he said just loud enough to be heard, "I'm not angry because you decided not to wear the bracelet. I'm angry because those actions could have gotten us all killed--and we're not out of the woods yet. Those wizards will come back, and what will you do when you cannot bite them back? What will you do when you find yourself under the claws of the chimera? Can you fight back against that, or do you dare look to us to continue to protect you?" He stood up, all thoughts of restraint fled, and spread his arms emphatically, his emotions roiling with a mixture of more uncertainty and frustration. "Windige, Perion and I are not knights! We are assassins! We do not protect the weak, steal from the rich and give too the poor! We kill. We kill those whom we despise, and we make a show of it! We are the ones who, after pulling you from your cage, returned to slaughter the wizards' henchmen. We are the ones who painted warnings in their blood and hanged them with their own entrails! We are the ones you look to for protection? For companionship? What in the nine blazing pits of hell makes that seem like a good idea?

"Yes, I'm confused," he said in a lower voice, whirling and pacing by the fire, his body alternately blocking the heat and letting it through to the other two. "I'm confused because you blew through our disguises like they weren't there. Forty years of plying our trade, and you are the second party to learn our true identities--and in only a few short days! Do not deceive yourself for a minute into believing that Perion and I did not consider killing you in your sleep for learning our secret, because we have killed for much, much less. But we didn't, for whatever insane reason. But then your indiscretion led those men straight to us, nearly killing us. That makes you a danger to us! There is nothing more important to me than Perion, and you put him in danger." He stalked forward, his thin but muscular finger leading the way and stopping inches from her nose. "You nearly killed him, Miss Windige. You nearly killed me. And those wizards are going to come back for us as soon as they learn we are not dead." He spun about and stormed back to the fire. "We, the Brothers D'havok, destroy or evade anything that could be a danger to us, and yet we are still letting you live. And... I don't know why, but I'm going to continue to let you breathe. I really don't know why." He sat down by the fire and let out a long sigh. "So, let me have my uncertainty, ussta jallil. I believe I have earned it."

Her lip quivered during this whole exchange, listening, well tried to listen with an open heart. When he was finished, Windige nodded to herself, agreeing partially. "Well I'm glad that my status as an endangered species hasn't swayed your decision," She replied sarcastically, producing a false sense of bravery. "Why did you save me in the beginning, then, Malrath? I didn't ask you to. You volunteered. AND I saved Perion when he fell, you could at least give me that."

Malrath gave her an exasperated look over his shoulder, and his violet glasses slid down his nose, revealing his eyes, which shone dully with the same weariness that pulsed from his core. "Mitigating factors aside, ussta jallil. And we opened that cage because we felt like it."

Perion snorted. "You mean you made me open it because you felt like it."

Malrath waved vigorously in their direction. "Whatever. I'm going for a walk." He stood and strode off into the darkness, his hands in his pockets. Without his cloak, he did not melt into the blackness with the same grace as before, and his slumped shoulders were clearly visible until he left the radius of firelight.

Windige didn't say anything for a long while. She weighed her options, thinking that if she left, she would freeze. If she stayed... there was a chance they would kill her, species not mattering. Sighing, Windige moved away from Perion, and close enough to the fire where she could stay warm enough. Shivering still, she slipped into a light sleep, plagued by dreams. Maybe nightmares. The fact of the matter was, that the Himmel chose to trust them, she had no other viable choice.

Hours later, the sun crested the horizon to reveal Malrath busily poking the fire and adding wood until flames returned to the wood. Beside him lay a trio of rabbits, already skinned and on spits, waiting to be laid over the fire. Having found a hat from one of his disguises, he had overturned it and stored in it several handfuls of nuts and berries he must have found during his nighttime wanderings.

Her ears twitching, Windige awoke slowly, blinking in the bright light and looked around. Seeing that she was still alive, seeing that Malrath had breakfast, Windige stretched lazily, the cloak only covering her back and hindquarters while she did this. Collecting dew from the other side of the cloak, she proceeded to give herself a bath, washing the burn clean in between her breasts and the little cuts dotted all over her now small human body. Sleep had done her well and emotionally she had recovered and now accepted her fate. However now used to the idea that she was humanoid, Windige was still uncertain on her feet, and instead of standing, she scuttled on all fours behind a log to do her business.

Perion had awakened some time ago but had decided to remain in reverie to while away the hours. Windige's motion, however, brought him to full wakefulness, and he watched the nearly-naked young woman scamper away from the camp. He turned his head to look at his brother, whose fingers made a few sharp gestures, and Perion burst out into laughter that broke the chilly morning stillness. "Hey, easy," Perion pleaded. "I'm trying to heal a bunch of broken ribs over here. Don't make me laugh."

Malrath just snorted and stuck the rabbit-spits in the ground next to the fire.

Windige came back a moment later, her ears back as she was displeased. She was walking, however, like a human, not bothering to cover herself up. In the new light, one could see that she had in fact a very pleasing to the eye form, and now that she had mastered walking somewhat only increased that knowledge. The Himmel resisted a soft growl, "What are you laughing at?" She asked Perion, looking suspiciously at Malrath and back to the healing brother.

Perion chuckled. "Malrath said that..." he stopped at a deadly glare from his brother. Then, glancing back at Windige, he grinned mischievously and motioned for her to join him, patting the ground next to where he sat.

Now she was even more suspicious of the two as she strode over and gracefully moved into a kneeling position that Ramsies often had done.

Perion, still grinning, put his hand to the side of his mouth and leaned toward Windige. In a stage-whisper, he told her, "Malrath said he was going to slap you if you pooped on his cloak."

"I can hear you, you know," said the dökkálfar by the fire.

"Oh, I know," Perion replied wanly, waving one hand in his brother's direction. "That was the point. How about breakfast?"

"Not ready yet."

"I only had to pee." Windige stated irritatedly, drawing her arms around her knees in a huff. Then she looked at what he was doing with the rabbits. "Why are you cooking mine?"

Malrath took a deep breath and turned to her. "Because it's raw meat. Your new stomach probably won't be able to handle raw meat anymore, and I wouldn't recommend drinking lots of blood, either, ussta jallil." Then he shrugged. "But if you insist, you really don't have to eat this. I could probably eat two this morning, since I'm rather hungry..."

Her ears tilted into that all familiar ninety degree angle as her mouth formed an 'O'. Then, "No, that makes sense. Um. Thank you, Malrath." Windige added, "For the rabbits. It was very thoughtful of you." She felt a little bad about her being angry at them, then rethought that because he had been furious at her. Shrugging, she settled with a neutral feeling. Just because they were cold bastards doesn't mean she had to be.

Malrath did not reply for a moment. Then, nudging the hat on the ground toward her, he said, "The rabbits will be a little while. If you're hungry, I found some... uuthli nau'shindcalen and... some kind of nut, I don't know what it is in the human language. Same goes for the little fruits." Then he pulled out his waterskin. "And we only have two waterskins to share between the three of us. I filled this one up, so drink from it if you're thirsty."

"Blueberries." Windige said softly, pulling at the hat and holding one up, "Ramsies called these blueberries. The nuts I am not too sure about." She was a little nervous about asking, but she figured she should sooner then later. Plucking another from the hat she plopped them into her mouth, swallowed, then asked quietly, "Should I be wearing... clothes? All the two legs I have seen, even you wear them."

Malrath nodded and passed her the waterskin. "Yes, you should. However, we have only the clothing on our backs with us right now. You should wear the blankets we have during the day. It's going to get colder as we travel. I also wouldn't mind having my cloak back... if you haven't noticed, it's not very warm, and it's not actually a cloak," he said, pointing to the leather pauldrons on his cloak, as well as indicating the metal fibers interwoven in the cloth.

Chuckling, Perion heaved himself to his feet and joined the other two. "I'm afraid to say I won't be lending you my bra and panties, Miss Windige," he said jovially.

Malrath gave his brother a serious look. "Lu'oh phu' dos tejmook'cinkjuu?"

Perion shrugged and gently patted his ribs. "Natha lotha alur."

"Bwael z'lonzic z'hin?"

"Siyo, drill naut whol lil gordo tangi," Perion responded, nodding and seating himself before helping himself to a handful of blueberries and beech nuts. "I guess we'll have to do a lot of walking from here on out," he said.

She glanced sharply between the two of them before muttering, "You know it wouldn't hurt to speak what I can understand." Then, "Wait... what are bra and panties?"

Malrath made a gesture that clearly meant, "My hands are off this matter," and instead focused on turning the rabbits around to cook the other side of the meat.

Perion, however, was happy to explain. "Well, panties cover this area," he said, indicating his groin, "and in our case, since we're men, they're called 'skivvies,' and they keep our junk from bouncing around too much," he said cheerfully. "As for the bra, those keep your jumblies from bouncing around too much," he said, pointing at Windige's new, human chest, complete with the aforementioned "jumblies."

Malrath couldn't help himself, and he let out a little chortle at his brother's lesson.

Windige was slightly confused, "Wait, I thought they were called breasts? And... ah." She actually blushed, and decided to not ask. The Himmel knew that in humanoids the sexual organs weren't hidden and were out, and that they were different. "Nevermind." She poked at her own groin area, her nose wrinkling at how exposed they were.

Perion let out a theatrical sigh, then winced. "Ah, yes. Some call them 'breasts,' but I am a poet! Words dance across my tongue as my tongue dances--nevermind." He frowned, again dramatically.

A few minutes passed, and Perion settled down, apparently having exhausted his morning energy. Then Malrath silently passed out the rabbits. After he handed Windige's to her, he paused, reached into his belt pouch, and produced the bracelet he had given to her as Gabonno. His glasses had slid down his nose, but he did not bother to push them back up, instead making full eye contact with the human-turned-Himmel. "I am going to ask you again, Miss Windige," he said, holding the golden trinket out to her. "Will you wear this, now that you know the repercussions for not wearing it?"

She kept her chin down, and looked up at him with her eyes, and meekly nodded. Raising her arm, she took it from him without complaint and silently put it on. "Malrath," She began, waiting till he sat down himself before asking, "Last night, I was sure that you were going to either kill me, or not be here in the morning. Why... all of a sudden, you are being so nice to me?"

Malrath glanced almost worriedly at Perion, who pointedly focused on eating his rabbit, even though it burned the roof of his mouth. Then, pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose, Malrath took up his food and held it before his face. "I took a long walk last night," he said. "It calmed me down." He took a bite of his rabbit and chewed it thoughtfully. "It also wouldn't be very wise of me to be rude and antagonistic while we're all trying to survive out here, ussta jallil." He looked at the waterskin he had given to Windige. "Are you going to drink some, or can I have that for a moment?"

"Oh, no I'm not thirsty," She handed it back to him. Having received a good enough answer, Windige also started to eat the rabbit, finding that cooked food now tasted better to a humanoid tongue than to a Himmel one. In fact, it was delicious. She ceased her questions now to eat. Wiggling one of her toes, Windige briefly thought about walking, made a face and instead turned her thoughts to flying. It wouldn't be so bad, traveling. But, maybe she should try walking for a little while. Maybe Malrath and Perion would like her more if she took their troubles and overcame them too.

The trio finished their breakfast with few words, and Malrath set about scattering the fire's ashes after putting the flames out. After finding that most of the blankets were dry, Malrath traded Windige the warmer blankets so he could have his cloak again, which he wielded as a shield during combat.

Perion refused Malrath's suggestion that he ride the horse, instead offering the seat to Windige, wanting to get his blood moving. "Besides," he said, "as long as we're walking, I'm not really moving my torso much. I'll take the saddle if it gets to be too much."

With that, they were off, continuing north on their way to escape from the wastelands created by the lavabeests.

Windige had spent most of the time walking, her skinny frame recieving some benefit from the work as light muscles began developing and only took the horse when the ground became too frost covered in the mornings. Much to the distain of the brothers, Windige had partly torn up a blanket in a mock imitation of clothing. It didn't look quite legit, but ceased problems with the coverage and only when it got colder did she adorn the blankets again. Some nights shr cried quietly to herself, hoping they didn't hear. She wanted to prove to them she wasn't weak, and crying got her no where.

Finally after two week's worth of travel they were out of the territory Windige knew. About time they had reached some sort of village. People had become more frequent on the road, as well as travelling carts of oxen and traders.

Perion dabbed at his cheek with a cotton cloth smeared with pale foundation, inspecting his work in a small mirror he held in his other hand. Somehow, he managed to work on his disguise and keep up with the group. His ability to do this and skirt the occasional mound of road apples bespoke his great dexterity and perception.

"We're really going to be cutting it close on these disguises," he said, finishing up and returning the cloth to the saddlebags. He scratched his ribs, not wincing; the pain had gone away, and his fractured bones were solid enough that he didn't have to worry about them breaking again if he sneezed.

Malrath, who had done his disguise first, nodded. His hair now shone a dark blue-black, and his pale skin was a drastic change from its usual coal color. "I know. But, as long as it doesn't rain and we don't need baths, we should be all right." He squinted into the near distance. "What's that?" he asked, pointing.

"Looks like a sign," Perion said. As the group approached, the sign's lettering became visible. "Hey, now. Some kind of civilization... 'Dareive.' I hope the number six next to it is the number of miles to it and not the population."

Windige looked curiously at the sign, hugging the blanket-cloak she had made to herself. "Does this mean I will get real clothes?" She asked quietly, "I mean, if they don't cost much. And... I can earn it." Widening her eyes, she tilted down her chin, almost like she was doing 'puppy-eyes'. Ramsies had always said she was the cutest when she did this, though, Windige wasn't sure how it looked now that she was humanoid.

"Yes," Malrath replied, "We will find some clothing for you. As for earning it... I don't really think that's necessary. Despite any misconceptions you might have had about us when you knew us as Gabonno and Jhalil..." He glanced around as if to make certain nobody was listening. Then, in a stage-whisper, he finished, "We steal money when we need it. Surprised?" He raised a dark eyebrow and gave her a conspiratorial grin; over the past two weeks, his ire had cooled, bringing with it the attitude Windige had known before the fateful night she had lost her true form.

"No," Windige replied with a mirrored smirk, "That doesn't at all. Sounds exciting," Her small frame practically shivered with it. Beyond tired of walking and appearing 'normal', the Himmel had grown happily anxious about coming upon a village or town. It would be strange to be welcomed among the humans, but she looked forward to causing them some despair.

Malrath just smiled to himself and continued walking. Perion flicked his now-dark hair behind one ear. "Well, Miss Windige, we'll have to see how you do at thievery and other acts of despicable derring-do. I might begin to worry about your character, falling in with sorts such as us and joining in our mischief-making... were I the sort to worry like that." He chuckled and squinted down the road. Neither of them wore their glasses in these disguises, and it was clear that their eyes did not fare so well in the bright sunlight. "I think I see the village up ahead," Perion said at length, pointing to a few small buildings apparent between some trees.

Laughing, "Then it is good, Perion, that I think morals are for humans," Windige snorted, "Or else I wouldn't eat things that talked back to me." She left it at that, and when he mentioned the village, Windige leaned slightly to the right and tilted her head while she walked... a subtle hint to her real race. There were other people on the road now, awkwardly staring at the three, unused to seeing 'elves' and whatever they thought Windige was. She met their gazes with a glare of her own, causing most to look away.

Malrath led the group to a modest inn that boasted a tavern room swimming with delicious scents wafting out from the kitchen. Placing a gold coin on the counter, he told the innkeeper, "I need two rooms for at least a week."
The man behind the counter eyed the coin warily. "It'll be more than a gold. Two'll see you to the end o' the week. Meals not included."

"I'll give you three for rooms and meals," the elf haggled. Squinting up at the tall elf, the innkeeper stared into Malrath's violet eyes for a long second. "I s'pose. I'll tell Sherry your meals're already paid for." He scooped up the trio of coins Malrath deposited on the table and brought forth two worn, brass keys. "Name?"

"Teryuvel," Malrath told the man, who commenced in misspelling it in a dusty notebook. Turning, the disguised dökkálfar nodded to the other two. "Let's go see our rooms," he said, leading the way up the stairs and into the hallway.

When they were out of earshot, Windige smiled at the twins, "Thank you." She didn't make the mistake of saying their names, and tilted her head in a soft bow. Her respect for them had only grown over the last few weeks, as well as her ability to show human emotion. Maybe... if she showed them kindness, and sincerity, that they wouldn't slit her throat one day. Windige grinned to herself at that. Finding humor in them 'killing' her confused her, but she didn't let it show. Instead her brow twitched as she let Malrath pass her to lead the way. While they walked to their rooms her eyes were down-casted, looking oddly at her human body, below the pelvis. "How strange..." She muttered.

"What's strange?" Malrath asked, stopping at the door of one room. "Catch." He lightly tossed the other key to her, then pointed right across the hall from the room the brothers would share. "That one's yours," he said.

She barely caught it as she was so wrapped up in her own emotions. "I... suddenly felt this strange heat when I smiled at you down... um..." Windige paled, looked up at him then blushed heavily, "Never mind," She said in a quick, dismissing tone. Turning away to hide her face in her hair, the Himmel studied the key, then experimented with the lock and managed to open the door on her first try.

Malrath raised an eyebrow but did not comment on Windige's response. Then, seeing Perion's expression, he shot his little brother a steely glare. "I'll go with you to find suitable clothing after we've settled into our rooms. For now, though, I'm sending Perion out to gather supplies, among other things. Do you need anything, ussta jallil?"

Windige hastily shook her head, "No... not that I can think of." She turned slightly to meet his gaze with one eye, "Is it alright if I go inside my room?" She waited for his curt nod before hurrying inside and shutting the door quietly behind her. If they were listening, they would hear her put her back to the door and slide down it, sitting at the base while they were still outside.

Malrath turned into his and Perion's room. "Vel'bol, tlun usstan dosst ilharn nin?" he asked, which made Perion chuckle.

"What do you want me to pick up?" Perion asked. "Aside from the obvious."

Malrath tossed his ragged and nearly empty backpack onto the room's sole chair. The place wasn't tiny, but the inn also wasn't a grand hotel. The room was modest but clean. "I'll need you to go information gathering while you're out. I know this place isn't even the size of a pimple on Lolth's ass, but see if you can find out anything about these wizards. Or where we might find more information about them. We know next to nothing about this country, so we're going to be working blind for a while."

Perion grinned. "All right, nothing new to us." He took out his hand mirror and checked his disguise. "Looking good, as usual," he commented under his breath, though Malrath heard him and smirked. Looking up, Perion put his hand on the door's handle. "Don't have too much fun with Miss Windige, now," he said, waggling a finger.

Malrath swatted at his brother, who dodged by opening the door and letting himself fall into the hallway. "Get outta here," Malrath grumbled to the door as it closed.

The dökkálfar rolled his eyes and unpacked what few belongings he had. He spent several minutes checking and cleaning his weapons before hiding them again. His spiked chain he kept wrapped about his torso, underneath his clothes. A small, magical trinket attached to the chain's handle ensured that Malrath could draw it in an instant, however, so he wasn't concerned about accessing it.

After about a half-hour of resting and going over what needed to be done in his head, Malrath left his room, locked it, and knocked on Windige's door.

Windige was alerted to movement when she heard someone fall outside, but did not get up until she heard a knock. She had been laying on the bed, her hands wrapped around her stomach as she explored her own feelings and emotions. When she opened the door, Windige resisted another smile and nodded, "I'm ready." She waited for him to lead the way, as she would do with an alpha male of her own kind.

Malrath suppressed a chuckle at the blankets Windige still wore. Then, stuffing his hands in his pockets, he trudged down the hallway. "Let's go," he said, looking for all the world like a lazy young man with an attitude problem. He was wearing just a white shirt over his armor, which, being finely woven of mithril, was easy to hide under clothing, and he slouched as he walked, adding to the appearance.

She followed him quietly, glancing at him occasionally. She was still stared at, which Windige frowned but returned their looks with as much boldness as she had done before while they walked down a street. A few minutes down one direction chanced them upon a cobbler, and when they exited Windige now had fresh buckskin boots, soft, but durable to protect her from the cold. Another street had an outfitter. Windige was dressed in a light cream and with blue fringe, form fitting pants and a loose shirt. A knee length tunic protected her front and covered up to her chest, where it branched into a nice V neckline. It showed a slight cleavage, but was more modest then a woman's dress. The sleeves were detachable in case of a climate change and they were long and closed off snugly at the wrist.

Lastly, they were passing another tailor, this one with cloaks. Windige made a face at her ears, and was pleasantly surprised when the owner had a special new cloak in the back, "Made for the races with long ears, like yourself," He informed, smiling to her.

Malrath, playing the bored ruffian, watched with apathy every time Windige came out wearing something new, then paid for it without comment. It was hard to tell because he often let his black-dyed locks fall in front of his eyes, but part of his bored expression came from the dökkálfar squinting against the bright sunlight, since he did not wear his glasses in this guise.

"We done here?" he drawled, sticking his hands back in his pockets after paying for Windige's cloak. His eyes lingered for a brief moment on the spot of skin visible near Windige's breasts before he glanced away, expressionless.

"Ah," She looked to the owner, who bowed, then nodded, "I think so... if this is everything..." Windige quieted till they got outside, "-if this is everything a human female is supposed to wear." She tossed her hood over her head, the tapered point hanging over her forward, the cloth keeping her hair as a natural boundary. Her face was partially kept in shadow this way, her eyes looking brighter in the darkness. Boldly, she met his gaze, "How do I look?"

Malrath looked at her from head to toe again, briefly. "It works," he said, turning and starting on the way back to the inn. "Lose the hood. It's not raining." He kept his pace slow, waiting for her to catch up.

Windige frowned, hoping for him to at least be a little more... imaginative. When he turned to go, the Himmel fell into step right behind him and a little to the right. Flicking her ears, her hood fell to her shoulders. Windige had an expression of neutrality on her face by the time they reached the inn again, though it soon changed to curiousness as she wondered if Perion was back, maybe he would find her new appearance more appealing.

Perion was waiting outside the brothers' room, looking for all the world a spitting image of his brother, if a few inches shorter. He smirked at his brother, then nodded to the Himmel. "Miss Windige," said the seventeen-minute-younger twin. "It's good to see you in something other than ratty blankets," he said politely. "You should join us in our room. I've... learned some interesting things that pertain to all of us." He looked at Malrath. "I also picked up the things we'll need for later on."

Malrath nodded. "Eventually we'll need to replace the other horse and our carriage, but I think for now, Gabonno and Jhalil are crossed off the list." After Perion opened the door and entered their room, Malrath stood on the far side of the door and motioned inside. "After you, ussta jallil," he said with his usual, sly grin.

She smiled graciously at him, and slipped by him into their room. Virtually identical, Windige looked to the chair, then the bed, but decided to take a seat on the floor directly across from the bed. "What did you find out?" she asked after a moment.

Malrath, after glancing up and down the hallway, pulled the door shut behind him and locked it. "Yes, what do we have to work with?"

Perion motioned to several small, wooden boxes sitting against the wall. "First, I've almost completely replenished our kits. We'll have to make do with hair dye and other styling, if we need it, since there aren't any wigs to be had in a boondocks-village like this."

Malrath nodded. "I guess it's good you like getting your nails and hair done," he quipped, dodging a nasty glare from his smaller sibling.

Composing himself, Perion went on, "I did some--careful--asking around about our friends, too. It seems those wizards are actually... some frighteningly important political figures in this country. We're not going up against just some rogue cabal of spellcasters here. We're practically fighting against kings and an entire army." He stared alternately at Malrath and Windige, letting his words sink in.

Returning his glance, Windige was silent before looking between the two as well, "Wait, what does that mean exactly? I know the word army, and what that means, but what does king mean?" She was a little embarrassed at this, but to her credit she didn't flush, "Ramsies had said he worked for a king... he never fully explained who that was though." From the look of their faces, Windige's long ears fell to her shoulders, "I take it this is very bad news."

Malrath raised an eyebrow. "Sometimes I forget you are only six years old," he said, though his words were merely a statement. "A king is the ruler of a land--essentially, think of him as the leader of the army... and a lot more."

Perion nodded. "Yes, though we're not actually going up against royalty, technically. These wizards are the dogs of a ruling council, though it's apparently little more than a dictatorship at this point. Ah, Miss Windige, do you understand the concepts of council rule and a dictatorship?"

She scrunched up her nose, thinking. "I'm not so sure. I guess, they are just a bunch of ruthless men out to control everything, am I right?" Windige felt she was close, but propped up her chin on her knees to listen, and learn.

"Essentially, yes," Malrath answered for his brother, the rancor in his voice unmistakeable. "They control things, but there's a difference in how they set up the government. A council, though, consists of more idiots to decide how to best extort money and free labor from their subjects. A dictator is just one man with enough idiocy for an entire council." He shrugged. "It just changes exactly how many people need to die for a regime change."

"I... see." Windige uttered quietly, "So what does this mean... for us?" She wondered if she shouldn't have phrased it like that, but forged ahead anyway. "Will we be sneaking around?" A smiled formed on her face, "Will we be assassinating people?" She got to her feet quickly and clutched the sides of her new cloak. "Will you teach me?"

Perion suddenly found great interest in a cloud passing by outside the window. Malrath stared at Windige speechlessly for a moment, not exactly certain how to deal with the Himmel's sudden enthusiasm for subterfuge and assassination. "No," he said at length, after considering his words, "... is what I would like to say. But I get the feeling that no matter what I decide, you would tag along anyway."

Perion sighed and looked back at the other two. "It's Bryangard all over again," he scoffed, throwing Malrath a grin mixed with exasperation.

Malrath rolled his eyes. "Ugh. Don't remind me about that."

"Surely, not everyone was useless. Khareshar was a pretty mean killing machine, and Etta... well, we know how that turned out." At a glance from his brother, Perion amended, "Well, okay. Leo did some stupid shit, and Rengar was about as stealthy as a shrieker 'shroom. But they had their uses."

"Anyway," Malrath went on sourly, turning back to Windige. "It's probably best you refrain from... assassination... and focus more on defending yourself, ussta jallil. We will do our best to teach you what we know, but we are no university professors. I don't know how well we can teach you what comes to us naturally."

Windige folded her arms and tilted up her chin slightly in a moment of defiance, "I've been killing my whole life. I don't need a weapon, I guess I just need to be taught how to move in this humanoid body..." She wasn't challenging Malrath per say, but this was about as feisty as she would get with him. "I can use the air as my sword or dagger." Dropping her shoulders, she sighed lightly then moved back to her spot against the wall and on the ground where she proceeded to poke at the bracelet she wore.

Malrath chuckled, the expression somewhat condescending. "Like I said, I don't know if we can teach you very well, but there are some misperceptions we should clear up. Perion and I can teach you how to move in that body--" Here, Perion giggled like a schoolboy for a moment, but Malrath did not pause. "--and how to fight, regardless of what you choose to use as a weapon: sword, spear, air, magic. Those things are but tools to achieve the same end, and they differ only in appearance and flavor.

"But there is more to sneaking than being able to move quietly and remain unseen. There is more to combat than striking at your enemy. And there is more to combining all these concepts than sneaking and killing, in order to be able to successfully remove a target and leave behind nothing but shadows and blood." He strode to the boxes and kicked one open. "There is information-gathering on a target; you must learn about your enemy. But at the same time, you have to be careful to not tip off the target that someone is trying to learn his weaknesses. Disguises such as these help, but there is also something to be said for asking the right questions in the right way at the right time.

"Any decently dexterous scamp can sneak through a crowd, cut a purse, and scuttle away unnoticed. But to truly be stealthy, you need to watch the play of shadows and light across the ground, walls, and even your own backside. You must be able to predict what a target is going to do in a few moments or minutes or hours, and you must be prepared to be discovered."

"Unless you're us," Perion laughed.

"Even we're not perfect," Malrath sighed in response. He looked at Windige. "I'm willing to teach you, but there is much to learn."

"I'm willing to learn," Windige pushed, glaring at Perion before commenting, "I am a quick learner, I still have my instincts... and abillities." She lifted up her hand at the younger brother, a strong wind suddenly picking up and hitting Perion, only strong enough to throw him onto the soft bed. From her 'hearing' his feelings and his giggle, she figured he might find that amusing.

Perion windmilled his arms but lost his balance and ended up on his rump on the bed. He stared in confusion at Windige, but Malrath just chuckled. "Very nice," the taller dökkálfar congratulated her. "We should stay here a few days, then head farther north to a larger town or city. Perion, find out where the best place to go might be. Preferably not exactly in the same locale as the wizards or their council. In that case, shall we begin your lessons, ussta jallil?"

She nodded eagerly, standing with her head slightly bowed at him in respect. Stretching out her arms, Windige slipped out of her cloak and draped it on the chair gingerly, standing in just the outfit the clothier had found for her. Her skin was still slightly red on her chest, where the chimera had burned her, but it had healed nicely over the past few weeks and wouldn't scar. Windige was determined that next time they met, she would come out unscathed.

Perion lay back on the bed and waved at them. "Toodles, kids."

Malrath said nothing to his brother but made a few subtle signs with one hand as he opened the door with the other. "Let's go," he said, picking up his rapier and buckling it to his belt as he led Windige down the hall and out of the inn.

He led the way into the forest for perhaps a mile; after they were away from the village, he pulled out his glasses and perched them on his nose. When he did, he breathed an audible sigh of relief. Finally, he stopped in a small, shady clearing and looked around, seeking any signs of pursuit or indigenous inhabitants. "All right," he said. "This should be good enough."

Being slightly on edge, Windige's ears flickered this way and that, listened before nodding to him. "We are alone." That statement was meant to infer that she could not hear or feel anything sentient close by. "What did you tell Perion... when we left? I can't help but have noticed you somehow comunicated with... your hands. Is it magic?"

Malrath shook his head, then brushed some stray hairs out of his face. "No, it's not magic, although certain gestures are very similar to those found in the arcane language. We dökkálfar have a sign language. It's useful for communicating in order to remain unheard. Perion and I do not live in the Deeps like most others of our kind, but as you can imagine, ussta jallil, it is still most useful." He stretched his limbs and did a few squats and other exercises as he spoke, pausing for the occasional lengthy stretch. "But," he went on, "we aren't here to teach you our language." He pulled out his rapier instead of his favorite, the spiked chain, and slashed at the air a few times, twirling the blade expertly between each movement. "You won't be learning much in the ways of actual fighting, at least for a while, but I will teach you how to strike. But first, you need to learn certain principles about fighting, things to keep in mind which, in turn, keep you alive in battle."

Windige could distinctly feel the air where which his blade passed through, knowing full well that he wouldn't hesitate using it on her new body. Visibly, she was standing awkwardly waiting, but internally she was summoning up all the courage she could, focusing on what he told her and his faint body movements. "I understand," Windige responded quietly, blinking her eyes as she resisted the urge to glance away.

Malrath was about to continue his lesson, but then stopped with a word dying on his tongue. He lowered his rapier and used it to tickle a blade of grass thoughtfully. "Actually, you said you'll be using 'the air' as your blade, right? I've already seen you do some pretty incredible things with that kind of power, but I don't know how fine your control is." He pointed to the ground around her with his rapier. "First, I need to evaluate what kind of control and awareness you already have. Can you use wind to pick up individual leaves on the ground?"

Looking away to what he was mentioning, Windige flicked a finger daintily, several leaves rising fleetingly in the air, then stopping directly at her eye level. With a quick sweep of her hand the three leaves were cleaved into two equal halves, which she allowed to fall to the grass. Grinning, "I've been practicing." All of a sudden shy, Windige did sort of a little squirm of happiness, proud of her achievements. Then almost as quick as a breeze changes direction she was completely serious again.

Malrath stooped over and picked up the sliced leaves and held them out. "Can you keep these in the air, at different elevations?"

"Hmmm." She squinted, pulling the leaves from him, so that they all hovered. Five of the pieces moved to different levels, the sixth however lagged somewhat, and she was barely able to keep it above the grass. Windige let out a small growl. She took a step back, her eyes alternating between the halves before lowering herself to her haunches, her crouch almost mirroring as best as she could her true form. Obediently the sixth leaf rose above the rest, all six looking as if they were frozen in time.

Malrath studied her expression, noting her concentration with an appraising look that bordered on approval. "Not bad," he muttered. He raised an eyebrow, and he emanated curiosity. Then, without warning, his rapier flashed out, right in front of Windige's face, and cut one of the floating leaves into two. His eyes never moved from her face as he continued to watch his student to see how she would react.

The two pieces flinched from his blade but right after resumed their lifelessness. Windige had sort of been expecting Malrath to do something, and had an invisible shield sitting around her crouched form in expectance of an attack, to her or around her. Her eyes darkened and she smirked dryly.

Malrath raised an eyebrow, impressed this time. "That's pretty good, ussta jallil. I was expecting you to drop most, if not all of the leaves." He took a step back. "You can release the leaves now."

Smiling now, Windige stood smoothly and let the earthen things fall back to where they were. Her ears were completely up straight and she puffed up her chest at his praise, in doing so pushed her shoulders back and raised her chin. "Thank you," She replied, knowing his words were few and rare when it came to complements. "I am more confident when I am all fours... and I think if I had indeed been standing like I am now, I would have dropped them." She shrugged, turning slightly, "What next?"

Scratching his chin, Malrath shrugged. "Hit me." He fell into a defensive posture, watching Windige intently. He still held his rapier, but since he wasn't going to use it against her right now, he held it loosely in his right hand.

Hesitation flashed its way across her features, which lasted a brief second before the leaves whirled around her. They visibly focused into a fist sized ball that whizzed towards Malrath's face. As before, the air was condensed tightly around herself to act incase he tried to strike back.

Malrath, seeing the incoming ball of air, twitched his head aside and let the force pass him by. Seeing her defensive position, he paused just before he would have begun to move. "What?" he asked, "I didn't tell you to stop." He prepared to dodge out of the way of more attacks.

The corner of Windige's mouth quirked, as the ball he had dodged came spinning back at him from behind, while more formed in the air behind her.

Malrath tumbled out of the way of Windige's attack again with almost disdainful ease. He let her throw a few more "punches" before pulling a length of rope from his pack and using it in a manner similar to his style when wielding his favorite weapon: the spiked chain. The two of them danced around the little forest clearing for nearly an hour, Malrath's violet eyes calculating and calm as he guided her through various routines and forms, from attack to defense and back again. After realizing that she had padded herself with air, Malrath stopped announcing his own attacks and whipped the rope at her a little harder. Finally, the dökkálfar called a halt when he realized that there was little more to be taught this day.

Breathing lightly, Windige sat down to catch her breath, leaning backwards while stretching her legs. "Did I do okay?" She wanted to try one more thing, but it required his approval, and her to get a quick rest before trying. Windige smirked to herself, believing that if this technique worked properly, it would be a valuable asset.

Coiling his rope back up and tucking it into his satchel, Malrath nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, you did all right. You'll have an easier time hitting less sensitive opponents. There's something about the way your air-based attacks coalesce that gives a wary opponent a slight breeze in warning, but like I said, anyone who doesn't know you're using air as your weapon shouldn't notice." He straightened and pushed his glasses higher onto his nose. "You'll also need to work more on defensive maneuvering. You said that earth and metal were strong against you; I suspect that if I had pulled out my chain and this were a real battle, there might not be much of you left. You'll have to figure something out," he said in his usual manner that excluded himself.

"I have an idea, that I would like to test on you." She stood up, "If it is alright." Windige wiped her palms against her new clothes.

Malrath's ear twitched, and he looked at her sideways, not liking the sound of where this was going. "What does it entail?" he asked.

"Well..." Windige sort of shrugged, as if having a little difficulty explaining it. "I want to create a barrier around you... then take out the air. I guess... choking... you." Windige glanced at him, not sure if he would say yes or not.

The dökkálfar gave her his best "unimpressed" look. "You want to choke me?" he scoffed. "Tell me again why I should think this is a good idea." He shook his head, his expression sour. "We're done here." Without a glance behind, he stalked back into the forest, heading toward the village again.

"Hey!" That annoyed her just a little bit and she frowned, "I was talking to you!" A wall of air shimmered into solidity in front of him, halting him. "You're the one telling me my defense needs work. This is the best way for me to improve, is to work on it! And it might as well be YOU on the other end. Besides, it isn't like I'm even planning on trying to kill you. The moment you cannot get air, I will stop. Simple as that." Windige crossed her arms and glared at him.

Malrath sighed inwardly, and it registered as a feeling of defeat to Windige's senses as the dökkálfar slowly turned and strode back to stand close enough to shake her hand, looking at her glumly. It seemed the wily creature, however, had been carefully controlling his thoughts and feelings, as the only warning Windige had was a sudden spike of anger before Malrath's hand snapped up and took hold of her jaw. "You're not planning on trying to kill me? What happens when your plan goes awry?" He squeezed on her jaw, glaring up at her with his piercing violet eyes, his glasses having slid down his nose. "If you want to try suffocating someone, go find someone else. You may try it on me on the day in which you choose to die, ussta d'anthe," he finished derisively. "Until then, practice it elsewhere. Do we have an understanding between us?"

Windige yelped slightly when he grabbed her, her hands instantly clutching at his sleeve and wrist. When he squeezed, she with held a small wimper and instead raised her lip, a deep, and not so human growl escaping her throat. Her eyes like his, were glaring, "Yes... we have an understanding." Her mouth twitched in a snarl as her form waivered, then disppeared completely, then reappeared a few feet back and in a Himmel like crouch. "And let it be known, Malrath D'havok, that you will never touch me again unless it is my wish." Having said that, she stood and walked past him to the path, changing their roles so that it was her that decided to leave first.

Malrath watched her depart out of the corner of his eye, waiting until long after she was gone before heading off in a different direction. "Ah, a vaen udos kyorl fol jesshc," he muttered to nobody. "Don't get lost on the way back." With that, he disappeared into the forest, leaving Windige's detection radius a long way behind.

Perion had his feet propped up on the chair opposite his as he idly sipped river-chilled tea (though the dökkálfar had slipped a liberal amount of drink from his flask into it when nobody was looking). His fingers thumbed through a book his eyes weren't reading; rather, he was thinking about what he'd accomplished this day. He looked up when Windige arrived, but even though Malrath did not accompany her, he did not seem in the least bit surprised.

Wordlessly, Windige slipped into the chair next to the one his feet were in, rubbing her face where the faint outline of fingers were still evident. She glanced to the waiter, drawing him over where she ordered a medium rare steak, breaking into it with gusto. Tearing through the meat, she glared at the brother as if daring him to say something.

Perion just smiled to himself and sat back in his seat, looking very much the contented grandfather reading the newspaper as he returned to the book he had not even been reading. His eyes frequently slid over to watch Windige devouring her steak. "You aren't imagining that steak's meat to belong to something or someone other than a cow, by any chance, are you?" he asked mildly.

"If only I were my real self, he wouldn't have dared doing what he did." Windige commented in between eating. "He would have lost a hand." When she was finished eating, the Himmel made humanoid let her chin rest in her hand to one side, letting out a breath. "The fact that I am in this weak form does not matter to my element. I am just as strong as I have been, just needing to get used to my smaller size is my only disadvantage." Blinking, Windige's mood turned neutral, as she relaxed after a good meal, then turned her emerald gaze to him, "He is the alpha male," Windige ducked her head, her eyes closing, "It is natural to... feel the need to breed with the strongest, for stronger offspring," She uttered quietly, as if realizing something within herself and speaking it aloud.

A jet of alcohol-spiked tea streamed from Perion's nose as he heard her words, muttered in the middle of him sipping his drink. Coughing and spluttering for a good minute, the dark elf recovered after blowing his nose several times. Even afterward, he spoke in a nasal tone, his sinuses burned by the alcohol. "You, uh, mean that someone other than me is the alpha male, right?" he asked, scratching his ear and pulling out one of his earrings, inspecting it for a minute. "Uh, wow. This is really awkward. And hilarious." He glanced around the tavern room, hoping he hadn't drawn too much attention; by now the other patrons had lost interest in the choking elf and gone back to their earlier conversations.

"You are sub-dominant." Windige replied, glancing at him curiously. "The instinct is there, but I can feel the need greater in him, then for you. Even if you look the same." Her gaze wasn't very emotional, just looking at him. She wasn't even blushing... it was as if for the moment she was forgetting she wasn't a Himmel anymore. "Though, memories tell me that we do not mate for life, and procreation is accepted." She tilted her head coyly at him.

Perion stared at her, slack-jawed, for several long moments. Finally, he composed himself. "Seriously, whatever you're high on, I need some of it," he said, though his aura flickered with insincerity. At length, he closed his book. "Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you, Miss Windige?"

There was no emotion change on her face, but her ears said enough as they flicked backwards, then fell to her shoulders. "Will it ever be enough? Will I ever be strong enough? Am I not... pretty to him? I thought I was pleasant to look upon, in humanoid standards." She frowned, her gaze focused on her hands before one drifted to her face, where his hand had been.

Perion released a sigh of exasperation. "That's what you're worried about? You're head over heels for Malrath D'havok?" He chuckled and rubbed at his face with one hand, careful not to smudge his makeup that covered his black skin and turned it pale. "I cannot think of a more dangerous desire, ussta jallil." He paused and glanced about, then removed his feet from the opposite chair so he could lean forward and speak more surreptitiously. "Let me tell you first that you are rather pleasant to look upon," he said, using her words. "He and I even have the same tastes, so I probably speak for him, too. I don't really know why you've got a stirring in your nethers for my brother, but I do find the notion hilarious enough to maybe see what I can do to help." He flashed her a conspiratorial grin. "What do you say?"

She looked up at him quickly with eyes wide, "I'm not worried about it! I just... don't understand." Then after hearing his proposal, Windige opened her mouth slightly then closed it, blinking, "Is it not a natural thing? To breed with the strongest?" Under her breath, "I thought it was." Windige's gaze flickered back to his, "Is this something that he needs to be tricked into?"

The dark elf's eyes widened. "Oh, no! I really don't advise ever tricking my brother... or myself, for that matter, actually," he said as though he were warning her of the dangers of the mythical snipe. "It might just be something he needs to be convinced to do, really. But what you have to understand about us two-leggers is that we don't necessarily go for what's strongest, but what's softest... though I suppose some of us have our fetishes..." He raised an eyebrow. "Should I even be discussing this with you? I'm like, seven times your age," he chuckled, the question completely rhetorical. "So I'm not a good person," he muttered, "Whatever. Anyway, Miss Windige, I could speak with him about this later tonight. How does that sound? I can't guarantee anything, and I certainly can't say when he might warm up to the idea, even if I can convince him, but I can certainly try." His violet eyes sparkled, and his aura jumped with amusement.

Windige thought about this for a moment. "You do know that my kind are supposed to be looking for mates at my age? Age not mattering in this form, I would like to think in the society that I have no memory of it does not matter the age of the mate, as long as they are strong, and worthy of each other." She sighed, then briefly nodded, "If you think it will help him to understand what I am going through, then yes, I would be... much obliged if you would speak to him on the matter."

Perion nodded, but then he grew serious, and his aura reflected the change in mood. "I'll help you," he said, lacing his fingers on the table before him, "but you really should know that you're playing with fire here. I mean... we have survived for so long by not taking unnecessary risks and by isolating ourselves from others, even when we help them. We don't respond well to risks or threats to our well-being." He sighed. "I've kind of become used to your company, Miss Windige, and it would be... disconcerting to part ways too suddenly. Just... don't push him too much. I'm a little less confrontational than my brother, but anything he sees as a threat, he destroys." Then he smiled, an enigmatic smile that bespoke Perion's fickle but open heart. "I'd also hate to have to kill you," he said with a chuckle. "But we can burn that bridge when we come to it. For now, let's see what I can do about my brother." He waved the barmaid over and ordered another drink, this one decidedly not tea. "Care for something?" he asked Windige.

Like before, she was now amused at the thought of them killing her so offhandedly, and laughed quietly, before nodding. "I'll have some water, thank you." Then, "After a few weeks of us being together, is it really so hard to trust someone?" She asked this cautiously, "I have placed my trust with both of you, and I do not regret that matter. It is not like I am untrustworthy, I mean, who am I going to tell? Why would I wish you harm, and betray you to the humans, or others? I hate them with almost as much passion as you."

Perion glanced around again, ensuring nobody was listening in. "Miss Windige, what you must understand about--about elves, is that we live for a very, very long time, longer than my brother and I really care to think about. The two of us have survived because we do not trust anything outside our own abilities. You might not mean us harm, but what guarantee do we have that you won't make an innocent mistake? A single mistake in our line of work could cost us our lives--a mistake like discussing this here. We'll talk about this later, after you're done eating. Meet me in my room; Malrath probably won't be back until later tonight." He rose and, stuffing his hands in his pockets like Malrath had done earlier, he sauntered away from the table and up the stairs.

Windige watched him leave, then slowly finished the steamed vegatables and potatoes that had been cooked with the steak. She understood what he meant, and felt a little saddened by the lives that they must lead and briefly pondered on what had made them become like this. Being a Himmel, she couldn't truly fathom it really, as she thought different then they did. After finishing, Windige stood and stretched, then walked slowly up the stairs and to their rooms. Instead of going to the twins first, however, she went to hers, changing into some thin off-white linen pants, kept to her thin frame with a drawstring. A matching shirt, this one with ribbons over her shoulders and sleeveless covered her chest.

Letting out a quiet breath, she knocked softly on their door.

A light chuckle emanated from within, and after a moment, Perion opened the door. "Come on in," he said almost in the manner of a therapist or a grandfather greeting his favorite granddaughter. He stepped aside and ushered Windige in, then closed and locked the door behind them. "It's just me, unfortunately," he said by way of explanation, seeing that she had changed and suspecting it was to appease his brother. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes, the matter of trust... We just don't." He punctuated his sentence with a swig from his flask.

Sitting on the chair, "What about when you take women to your bed, don't you trust them to not take out a knife during... procreation?" Windige asked. It was obvious that Ramsies had only taught her certain words, and he had been a gentleman about it. The only other word she had for it was mating. She felt procreation suited it better, as he was a human and not an animal.

Perion let out a snorting chuckle. "Procreation? Nevertheless, my sex life isn't the issue on the table. And no, I most certainly do not trust a woman to not pull a knife on me. Naked and vulnerable like that? I keep several of them handy in easy-to-reach but hard-to-find places for occasions like that. You see, our very own mother sold us as slaves when we were children. And she's hardly the worst bitch we've met." His violet eyes flared with remembered anger and revenge. "Nor the worst I've had to kill."

Windige shrugged, "I'm just saying, you trust a little bit... just not fully." She felt the hate emanating from him and tilted her head, then sighed. "And hardship has created a bond between you that can never be broken, how can one trust? I think I truly understand, though you have not chosen to reveal much more then a few things. I do not know what the word slave means, but it cannot be anything good I imagine." Windige shooked her head, combing a hand through her hair in a very human like fashion.

Perion fell silent for a few moments, and he glanced out the window and then down at the table beneath the sill, where his earring lay glinting in the light. He had not put it back in his ear. As he frowned at the little trinket, his emotions swirled with remembered spite, fear, and sadness. Then, taking another long draw from his flask, he shook himself both physically and emotionally. "Slaves... are people who are no longer people. Imagine being forced to forget that you are yourself, Miss Windige. Imagine that your life is dependent upon the whim of another, possibly weaker being who, by chance or by purchase, has gained possession of you. Imagine being not a person, but an object, a source of physical labor, amusement, or sexual release, completely at another's whim. That is slavery. That is what it means to be a slave. The beatings were the easiest part of it." He snorted and again drew from his flask. Chuckling, he added, "I've been telling you we don't trust because we're broken, but it's probably because we just don't have any use for trust, aside from each other. We use people until they're no longer of any use, and then let them go--to fall or to fly, it doesn't really matter to us." Turning back to her, he gave her a wry smile that was accompanied by a wave of self-deprecation. "How's that for an insight into us dökkálfar?" Perion asked.

While she had listened, her ears had fallen from their raised position. "It doesn't sound like an easy life." Windige admitted softly, but moreso with a slight grave tone. "I am more thankful to my own circumstance, and am ashamed that you were treated as such." She was, truly, being completely honest with him. "I still fail to understand where I come into all of this, being that you never used me, that you freed me, sheltered me, even when I passed through your cautions with ease. Still, after the danger I put you both through, why you leave me alive is beyond me when the meager knowledge you have given me nearly screams kill her and hide." The Himmel tilted her head against the wall as one of her hands played with the bracelet. "I still don't understand fully." She whispered, then sighed lightly and stood to leave. Pausing, Windige turned back to him, "You know... I have never dwelt fully on my eventual death. If you two ever make the decision to kill me, please don't do it until my real form is returned to me. If so, I will submit myself willingly to your blades, so that your secret will be forever safe." Opening the door, the Himmel let herself out without another sound.

Perion opened his mouth to reply, but she was already gone, and he stood there gaping like a fish at the door until he reached over with one hand and closed his jaw manually. He shrugged and reached for the earring on the table, muttering, "Usstan neitar llaar telanthus udos zhahen aluin ulu elgg dos." Pushing the jewelry through the small hole in his ear, he settled into a chair and smiled at something only he could hear.

As evening drew on and the sun neared the far horizon, the door belonging to the brothers D'havok opened without any preceding footsteps to give warning of Malrath's return. After a few minutes of utter silence, the door opened again, and Malrath stepped across the hall to Windige's room, where he rapped gently on the wooden door. His emotions, what little of them there were to be felt, were definitely being masked by the wily dökkálfar, as they faded in and out and were too nebulous to pinpoint. He tapped thrice upon the wood, then waited for a response.

Windige rolled her eyes as she let herself touch to the floor from the air, where she had been hovering, still dressed as she had been earlier and opened the door. Her eyes met his, then dropped as she stepped back to allow him to enter.

Malrath frowned at her display of submission, noting the moment when she cast her gaze to the floor. Even though he hid his emotions behind his usual veil, it was clear he had cooled off from this afternoon--or, based on his track record, had all that been just an act, too?

Stepping into her room, Malrath glanced around and inhaled slowly. "I understand you wish to speak with me, ussta jallil," he said quietly, closing the door behind him. Just like Perion had done earlier in the day, he paused and removed an earring from his ear and tucked it into a pocket. He stayed by the door, not invading Windige's space more than he needed to in order to gain some privacy.

Sitting on the bed, Windige twisted some hair behind her long ears and tilted her head to glance at him, then returned her gaze to the ground. "You and Perion are the only other beings besides the elementals in whom I have spent time with. My adoptive parent was just that, a parent." She shook her head at the wonder of it all, "Male Himmels lead the pack, females are sub-dominant after the males, even though they are the final decision makers." Her emerald eyes raised to his again, realization in her features, "With our time spent together, you are my dominant male. I have no family, no mate, yet now that I am in this form the urge to procreate with the strongest suitor has me greatly confused." She was blushing, however, she was not embarrassed. "You are the male... please, tell me if this is not the path I should take, if I should put away all my instincts on this matter!" Windige hurriedly shut her eyes, drawing her knees to her chest in an effort to halt the emotions that caused her to speak so openly.

Malrath paused after Windige's outburst, not having expected the sudden barrage of her thoughts. He remained rather somber, but he ceased concentrating on hiding his emotions as he turned his thoughts to other things. Surprisingly, his emotions actually matched his actions for the first time in a long while. "Mark this date on your calendar, ussta jallil, because I think I'm actually going to be honest with you. I'm not used to it, so bear with me."

Dropping his cloak on the chair and placing his glasses on the cloak's fabric, he trudged over to the bed and flopped most unceremoniously down onto his back, lacing his fingers behind his head and staring at the ceiling. He let out a huffing sigh as he did so, gathering his thoughts. When he finally spoke, he chuckled. "Sometimes you make me think too much, Windige." His momentary mirth subsided, and he went on, "Perion tells me you were wondering about trust and why we don't indulge in it. I'm not about to repeat his lecture, because I don't have anything different to say on the matter, really."

He fell silent for a few breaths. Then he started speaking again suddenly. "You have often wondered why we stand by you even as we threaten you. I... really haven't wondered why we do what we do before. It just seems the thing to do--we thwart humans indulging in activities against the interests of other races because for us, it's revenge. That much has been clear to me from the outset.

"When we were slaves under the thumb of a human lord, Perion and I had one mutual friend, an elderly woman named Yelardra," he said, suddenly changing tact. His emotions had slowly gone from quiet to confusion. "She died because we trusted another over ourselves. We had a little money saved, coins we'd stolen from the masters or other slaves. One of the other slaves told us he had connections outside the fiefdom, and when Yelardra fell ill, he suggested he call in a favor or two. His 'contact,' it turned out, required payment, and so we gave over everything we had. In the end, the other slave used that money to purchase his own freedom, and Yelardra perished of consumption."

He looked "down" at Windige from his reclining position. "We learned at a very young age not to trust, and never had the chance to bother with it later. Like Perion probably told you, we meet someone, we use them to further our ends, and if we like them, we disappear quietly after they're safe. If not... well, you can probably guess how that ends.

"So, as you can imagine, we've really not been that close with anyone but ourselves for, oh, three decades now," he sighed, blowing a few strands of his snowy hair from his ebon features. "And then along you come, uncovering our identities in frighteningly short order--but we've had that conversation, already, too," he chuckled. "So now, here we are, having to confront the fact that you're probably too nosy for your own good, and Perion and I don't bother making nor keeping companions, yet you're still here. And, apparently, you've got the hots for me, or whatever you Himmels call it. Perion mentioned something about 'procreation.'"

Her blush deepened quite a bit at that. "As I told Perion, isn't it natural to want to mate with the strongest?" Windige did not follow up on that, as he very well knew his own strength... however, "I said earlier, that you would never touch me again, if I did not wish it." She swallowed heavily, "Yet even then, I have wished it for a while now, and did not know why. Now I do."

"Uh," Malrath fished for an appropriate answer, not quite catching on to what she had just said. "I suppose it's natural to go for the cat with the biggest teeth and claws... if you're a cat... a really long cat that can fly and command the air to do as she wills," he said lightly. "I don't really profess to be an expert on such activities, nor on emotions such as love and affection. Perion's more the type to ask about bringing women home after a night of heavy drinking..." He sat up and stared at her with one eyebrow raised in incredulity. "Wait, did you just say something about wanting me to touch you?" He blinked his violet eyes a few times as though doing that would help him recall what she'd said in the middle of his train of thought.

Windige also blinked, then glanced away, "-Yes..." She murmured, as her heartbeat quickened for a moment. "Though I lack the appropriate knowledge of what to do, especially in this form." She could feel a heat forming in her navel at the thought, trying to keep her yearning out of her features and body movements. He was so close to her... Windige licked her lips before gnawing on the bottom one.

Malrath's nose twitched, and he remarked rather off-handedly in his deep voice. "Well, isn't this awkward." He let a long silence hang between them, during which he found he couldn't quite meet her stare. "I'm not so sure 'procreation' is exactly what we should be concerned with here, Windige," he told her gently. He suddenly realized he had been staring at the slight amount of cleavage showing just above the line of her shirt. Malrath found himself glad that dökkálfar did not blush, or at least, it wasn't visible when they did. But Windige's ability to read auras gave him away as his emotions swung from confusion to arousal which he vehemently suppressed with all his considerable willpower.

Her eyes darted downwards as she had in fact, very quickly caught onto his emotions, wondering what caused it. "Why not?" Windige asked bluntly. It dawned on her, that is was probably the 'breasts' that she had been so curious about. She touched one experimentally with a hand, then let it drop, the skin which she had lightly caressed tingled. Then, "Do you not feel attracted to me?" Windige knew for certain he did, but figured she would ask the question anyway.

"I..." Malrath started, but the word was strangled, and his aura flared with frustration at his inability to express what he wanted to get across. "It's not!--Rrgh." He flopped back down onto his back and scowled at the ceiling for a minute, letting his anger fade, which it did.

Finally, he sighed, under control again. "Look, I'm trying to keep you out of the hands of those wizards and find them and kill them at the same time. I'm also more than half a century short of parenthood--though let me assure you that the important functions of the parts in question are fully operational," he said with an amused snort at his own phrasing. "But more, I can't understand what has you steamed up over me. I mean, aside from the fact that I'm big and muscular and very attractive," he said in mock humility. "I will admit that your new body is quite the eye-candy, but the circumstances notwithstanding, I'm still baffled. I am dökkálfar. You are Himmel. How is that not entirely disconnected?"

"...I am not Himmel right now." She replied quietly, tilting her head towards him so that her gaze met his, even if he wasn't looking at her. "I suppose that maybe, the fact that this body is fully developed that it has increased by want- my desire, to mate. The fact that it is instinctual does not alter my choice. But... it has been the reason why I have been so subdued. I naturally fell into line with your dominance." Windige's ears wilted and fell to her shoulders, as she grew sad at his rejection.

Malrath met her look with another look of incredulity. "Uh," he said most eloquently. "I... I'm not certain I know what to say to that," he admitted. For the briefest of moments, his emotions radiated slight embarrassment.

She drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her slim arms around them so they stayed and dropped her head to the joints. Windige's hair slid past her ears since they were down, hiding her face. "I could really use a scratch behind the ears right now... but since I am humanoid and no longer Himmel, of course, that would make you uncomfortable, because all of a sudden I am attractive with breasts and whatever other stuff humans have." She said this mumbled with lightly masked annoyance, and just a slight sound of envy in her soprano voice. Her hands tightened around her elbows, anger in her frame at the ones that had done this to her.

Malrath coughed and blinked at her, again surprised by the sudden insight. "I... guess you have me there, ussta jallil," he said quietly in his melodious baritone, underlined with a slight, self-reproaching chuckle. He remained silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "You're right. Call me a hypocrite for giving you my speech on not seeing yourself as an animal, but as a person. I still saw you as an animal. It's rather shocking how much a change in appearance can change perception." Sitting up, he sighed, defeated at his own game. "Come. If you want, I'll scratch behind your ears, Windige."

Windige glanced at him, disbelief in her eyes, "You're serious?" It almost sounded more of a statement then a question. A smile drew its way across her lips as she grinned, her ears returning to their normal position as she released her legs. She turned toward him, on her hands and knees atop the sheets of the bed and sat her rump down closer to him. The Himmel ducked her head and pressed it against his shoulder, a light purr emanating from her throat even before he had begun to appease her.

"Aren't I always serious?" he asked, though the question was rhetorical. Reaching up with one arm, he hesitantly touched the hair behind Windige's ear, gently rubbing with his fingertips. Then, figuring things were about as awkward as they could get, Malrath relaxed and dug his fingers obediently into her scalp, massaging the Himmel-turned-human's favorite scratching spots.

Her eyes closed at his touches, her purrs gaining in volume until she dropped her head to his thigh, the limb blocking the noise somewhat. Petting had always been her weakness. Her thoughts briefly remembered the first night they had met, when he had more then willingly mirrored this action when she was in her real form. Perhaps that was why he kept her at length, knowing that someday, if they were successful, that she would return to her Himmel form and have no wish to entertain him further. Windige shrugged, as her thoughts faded away, and was painfully aware of the urge within her, that burning heat.

Malrath jumped slightly when she touched his leg, but then settled when he realized she made no futher movements toward his loins and seemed content to lie there. He continued scratching behind her ears but then eventually began to gently stroke her long ears, and then to run his fingers through her hair. The dökkálfar also found himself lost in thought as he, too, remembered the times he had petted the Himmel as Gabonno. At the time, he had distanced himself from the act, performing it only for his disguise, but now his body seemed to relax as though this were something slightly familiar to him. As he stroked the hair atop her head, he mused, "It must be different to feel long hair and bare skin touched, rather than thick fur everywhere."

Windige made a soft sound, too light to be considered a grunt. "It is... different, but not unpleasant. In fact, it is... It feels better." She struggled to relay how it felt, as his touches distracted her. His emotions also soothed her. The Himmel looked up at him, her face solemn as her green eyes blinked, "If there is any way to repay you, for everything you have given me," She smirked for a moment, "Even if you had stolen the money, the least I can do for you, is to help keep you calm. Less for you to worry about..."

Malrath turned an arrogant smile on her for a moment. "I find little use in worrying, ussta jallil. It's really more prudent to plan for success through failure and have the right tools on hand to handle outside forces in any situation." He blinked slowly. "Speaking of plans, Perion has found us a suitable location in a larger town about a hundred miles east of Deltimoria, where our enemies--the council--convenes. We'll spend some time there burying ourselves in society, under various aliases, of course, and then use the connections we make to find a way to make our blades and our enemies' hearts meet. By the by," he said as an afterthought, scratching one of his ears with a finger even as he continued to run his other hand through Windige's hair, "I have heard stories of wizards who were able to hear whenever anyone spoke their names. Under no circumstances are we to utter their names, should we learn them. Understand?"

She nodded earnestly, "What about mentally saying it? Is it just by voice?"

The dökkálfar shrugged, and the motion caused a lock of his snowy hair to slip over his shoulder and tickle Windige's cheek as Malrath met her eyes. "I don't know. Perion and I never really studied magic. We're just resistant to it, like all dökkálfar are. I'd guess you have to say it out loud, but just to be safe, try not to think about them too much, or if you do, give them new names." He let out a chuckle and flashed his teeth in a wolfish grin. "You know, names like 'Poopface,' and 'Scumspot' work wonderfully, in addition to being descriptive."

Windige giggled briefly, while moving her hand to his lock of hair from her cheek and flicking it back over his shoulder. "When will we be leaving?" She asked quietly, not sad about it, just curious. She was ever a curious creature. Adjusting her head, Windige let out a pleased sigh while she waited for his reply.

"Tomorrow," Malrath said plainly. "Unless it rains."

"I could stop it from raining," She replied, smiling slightly.

Malrath considered her words for a moment. "I suppose that's true," he admitted. "I guess whether we leave tomorrow or not depends rather entirely on your whim. So, Miss Windige, when do we leave?" His voice and aura both carried with them thoughtful amusement.

"Tomorrow," She said, in the same tone he had not seconds earlier. Then the Himmel turned human's eyes turned sly. "I might need some persuasion though," Her voice had a deeper edge to it, as Windige copied the way she had heard a woman once talk to Ramsies.

Malrath's aura pulsed with a new feeling at something he heard in her voice. Eroticism briefly flitted in the air about him, and he struggled to quash it even though he knew Windige had already felt it. "Oh?" he asked in his normal, deep, unconcerned voice. "I could just buy an umbrella." Despite his poise, Malrath squirmed slightly, adjusting his position a bit as he fought back another wave of the damning feeling.

Moving her head up so he could adjust, this... new emotion that had washed over her put her in a quiet daze. When he went still again, Windige snuggled against his thigh, moving her chin down to make her eyes look larger. "I could just whisk the umbrella away if you pulled it out..."

Malrath stared at her in silent shock for a moment, caught completely off-guard. His emotions surged back and forth between eroticism and hilarity; although he knew her question to be innocent, he couldn't decide whether he should take it seriously or laugh at it. For several long moments, he said nothing, but finally he managed a strangled laugh.

"You know I could, very easily in fact," Windige retorted.

This, of course, only made the dökkálfar laugh harder, and he nearly lost his breath, holding his sides. "Yes," he said at last when his hoots of mirth had finally calmed down. Tears ran from his eyes, and he lifted his glasses, wiping them dry. "Yes, I guess you could," he told her in that mysterious way that left his meaning open to interpretation, in keeping with the innuendo-laced conversation that he was fairly certain Windige did not understand.

Her face held slight confusion to his laughter, but shrugged, then brought up her hands and arms underneath her chin. One of the ribbons acting as straps slipped down her shoulder. Windige didn't notice.

Malrath casually slid the strap back up her shoulder with two fingers. "Well, I suppose that if we are to move on the morrow, you'll need your rest, ussta jallil. I need to check on our... supplies... before we leave, as well."

Windige pouted, but nodded in agreement. "Will we be riding horses?" She moved herself back to her knees, her arms holding up her slight weight easily enough as she continued to look at him.

Malrath seemed to have regained his composure when he set for himself a task to be done, and while it took a little effort, he managed not to stare down her shirt... for too long. "Not exactly. I managed to 'procure' a horse and decent wagon earlier today, while I was out wandering, along with some trade goods. We'll be traveling as tradesmen, though not from exotic lands like the Great Kingdom of Kalina," he told her, his last few words spoken in Gabonno's broad accent.

Her ears went up as she tilted her head, a smile drifting across her face, "That is a strange gift you have, quite enjoyable. Can you do others?" Windige pressed, her mind forgetting why he had come to talk to her in the first place, almost back to her normal self.

Nodding, Malrath cleared his throat. "Yes, Perion and I have had to master many voices, personalities, and traditions. We often play traders, because nobody notices when a new merchant comes to town--unless it's Gabonno. We've been traders from Barvaccia, Kalina, dancers from the Elgos Islands, herbalists from the Midlands. We can both mimic the voices and motions of male and female characters." He gave her a sly look. "And if you ever want to see Perion in a dress... well, that can be arranged," he chuckled. "He can be quite stunning in frills and hoops."

"I can be the female now though," She piped, laughing at his poking fun at his twin.

"Hmmm," Malrath said thoughtfully, scratching his chin. "Two merchants and their cousin? A happily married pair of merchants and their son?" he asked, referring to their upcoming disguises. "I suppose that's actually a pretty good idea, Windige."

She smiled, even though she hadn't an idea what marriage was. "That way we wouldn't have to embarass Perion."

Malrath snorted, amused. "Are you kidding me? I live for that." He scooted to the edge of the bed and began settling his feet back into his shiny, black boots. "In any case, ussta jallil, I should be getting back to my room, so that I may prepare for tomorrow and that you may rest."

To her credit her ears only lowered a little bit, though the smile never faded as she nodded. "Alright." Windige opened the door, looking side to side and listening before pulling it fully open. "I will... see you tomorrow," Her eyes glowed slightly from the light in the hall, and after a few moments of looking at him, they dropped. It was obvious that this time, she was at peace with her emotions regarding him, and had taken back some of her submissiveness.

Malrath strode to her side and tipped his head to her. "Good night, Windige. I'm actually rather glad we had this talk." With that, he took one step out the door--and vanished entirely without any fanfare. His aura, however, remained in the area, and it became apparent from the sounds that he had returned to his room via some kind of magic, be it innate or from a trinket.



Dark of Night: Part Four