Hunting Death- First One
#4 of Hunting Death
Re-reading these as I upload them I am reminded about how much fun it was to write all the sarcastic idiocy that Mige sometimes spouted. If I were to rewrite some of the later dialogs I'd probably bring back more of that
First One
"Ugh, that was certainly fun," I remark dryly to myself while considering my options.
Making a bolt for it would do me no good. Not only does my pack weigh me down too much to let me run fast, the sheer size of the would make even the worst tracker able to follow me from the rustling of the grass and leaves. So I decided that the best course of action the more defensive one. Since I can't know right now that this elf would lead me to ruin or salvation, attacking on first sight would not be the best idea. Even still, I take a few more steps away from my vomit and then slip off my pack. Thanks to a very useful and clever bit of enchanting, my weapon is hidden within an amulet that is hung around my neck. I need only call my weapon's name for it to come out. Still wanting the taste out of my mouth I grab at a leaf of a bush in front of me. It is while chewing this at the elf finally finds me. He looks at me eating the leaves and sees the vomit nearby and then speaks up.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
"Of course I am," I reply in as cheerful a manner as possible. If I don't seem a threat maybe he'll let me go on my way. "It was such a nice day and you were looking so bored over there that I just had to get your attention. And what better way to get someone else's attention than to lose your lunch."
"Well, okay. But can you come out into the clearing then please? It wouldn't be that great a conversation talking to something in a bush."
"Why of course, give me a moment," I comment in return and the elf walks back towards his sitting spot in the tree.
I cock my head to the side for a moment, thinking it over before moving over and grabbing my pack and dragging it into the clearing with me with my teeth. The elf, who must be little more than a grown up child by the way he acts sees the pack and apparently feels the need to comment.
"Why do you need to have such a large pack with you?"
"Because I am going on a long trip. It'd be silly to not be here for months without bringing here with me."
"Really? Where are you going?" the elf asks in a strangely excited tone.
"Don't know yet. I figure I'll know where I'm going after I've been there and am heading back home."
"You wouldn't happen to be a fae would you?"
"Um," I comment, sort of taken back by such a strange question. "No, I am not. Why would you think to ask something like that? Do you ask that of everyone who walks past you or just those that throw up near you?"
"No," the elf responds in a very defensive manner before fidgeting a bit. "I had a vision that a fae would meet me here and guide me to my destiny."
I stare at the elf quizzically for a moment, my head tilting to the side in the process before shrugging and going about getting my pack so that it's secured over my back again. "Ah, well have fun with that."
"So you're telling me you're not a fae?" he asks, somewhat concerned.
I manage to finish wiggling my way into the pack and grip the fasteners with my teeth and tighten them. "I already said I wasn't. I have eaten fae, though. They're not bad with the right seasonings."
"You lie!" the elf shouts at me, causing me to quickly look in his direction and everywhere around me in case that was a signal for an attack. But nothing dangerous seems to be coming at me.
"About what? That they're edible or that they're only palatable with the right seasonings?"
"That you're not a fae. You have to be one. My vision said a fae would meet me here and here you are. If you claim to not be a fae then simply tell me what you are and I'll see if I believe you."
"I... cannot," I utter, remember the talks of how dangerous it'd be for me if everyone knew what I was and how my biggest protection is that people would not know what I am. "I made a promise that I would never do that."
"So then if you were a fae you wouldn't even be able to admit it, right?"
"If I was a fae and I had made that promise then, possibly yes. But I am not a fae. Fae do not ever throw up, they aren't anywhere close to my size and they have rather crunchy little wings on their back; wings that I do not possess. You know what, screw it. Do whatever you want elf, this conversation is only going to give me a headache," I comment before continuing towards the exit to the forest, keeping one ear on him in case he decides to do something violent to me in the process.
"Rophan. My name is Rophan, not 'elf,'" the elf responds, apparently going back to the tree he had been sitting on.
"Mige," I comment, attempting to be at least somewhat courteous. "So long then, good luck finding your flying bug."
"I'm coming with you," Rophan comments, having apparently gone to get a small travel sack that he had been storing behind the tree.
"Says who?" I stop and look at him again.
"Says you. You said I should do whatever I want. And I am choosing to follow you, regardless of whether you admit that you're a fae."
I sigh but do not make any further comment, instead continuing on further away from my home and trying to keep an ear open for any sense of danger.