"Garden Tussle By Night"

Log Date:
	8/5, 8/6/00

Log Cast:
	Faanshi, Tyler, Sebastienne, Boden, Nox

Log Intro:
	As of late, the young shudra healer Faanshi has been living her usual
troubled existence -- with the only differences being the forms of trouble
her gentle heart has been having to bear. She has had, much to her inner
sorrow, had to turn down an offer to join the Ushasti; furthermore, she
has been suffering bad dreams as to the fate of her beloved Lyre, gone out
of Haven for several months now. What with the outbreak of war among the
Varati Clans, the maiden has not dared to try to confide in her royal
mistress Thalia the way she had hoped once that she could. And she has not
dared to try to let herself confide in the Ushasti, convinced as she is 
that she is unworthy to be among the women who worship the Lady of the Dawn.
	However, perhaps Ushas has seen fit to give Faanshi an outlet for
her burdens regardless -- though it has come to her in the oddest of forms,
the Warlord of Clan Messala. Trying to figure out why exactly the Warlord 
of a kshatri Clan is being almost friendly to the likes of _her_ has brought
her a whole new thing over which to be confused and torn, especially when
that Warlord has caught her crying in worried desperation over her absent
beloved bard. Since then, she has striven to ensure that she remains strong
and keeps her griefs to herself.
	But it seems that the Lady of the Dawn is not quite yet done throwing
distractions Faanshi's way, for she has established enough of a reputation
with her power by now that sometimes urgent calls come for her at all hours
of the night. And her path when going out to attend to those in need can
often take her to corners of Haven where one shudra maiden might encounter
any sorts of trouble-making individuals....

*===========================< In Character Time >===========================*
             Time of day:  Night (Dawnside)
          Date on Aether:  Saturday, November 23, 3906.
           Year on Earth:  1506 A.D. 
       Phase of the Moon:  Waning Crescent
                  Season:  Fall
                 Weather:  Wind
             Temperature:  Cool
*==========================================================================*

Old City Garden - Haven
     A strange thing, to some, to see such a thick, unbridled mass of forest 
  within the city walls. Even during the brightest days, it is shady here; 
  looming tree branches above filter out the sunlight, casting shadows that 
  might be relieving during a warm summer day, or alternatively fearsome by 
  night. The heart of the garden is most often alive with the chirps and 
  chitters of the wildlife that makes its home here.
     Still, some civilization prevails, if only tentatively. A wide, roughly 
  cobbled road stretches east to west, suitable for the usual traffic of a 
  city street, if a bit precariously. Benches line the various man-made paths, 
  reminding the visitor that this is indeed intended to be a respite from the 
  bustle of the town, and is not merely some uncontrolled mass of trees within 
  Haven.
Contents:
A peculiar shadow
Obvious exits:
Streets <E,NE,SW>  Garden Archway <W>

Tyler steps into the tangled wilderness of the town garden from the docks to 
  the southwest.
Tyler has arrived.

Tyler
        Crystalline blue eyes, always running wild with proof of a turbulent 
  temper, confront the world with keen, contagious excitement. Tyler looks to 
  be in his mid-twenties, his features rugged and relatively handsome, fit for 
  winning smiles and aggressive snarls alike. A quick shock of lemon yellow 
  hair challenges the bronzed complexion of his skin in contrast, all shaggy 
  and tangled after rather unsuccessful efforts by the mongrel to hand-comb it 
  into place. Formidable in construction, cocky in demeanor, Tyler is six feet 
  and two inches of energy and adrenaline. Every accelerated muscle is 
  athletic and honed, but not pronounced enough for him to be mistaken as 
  hulking or massive--his build reasonably combines explosive strength with 
  curious expedition. Proud scars dance in sharp patterns across his powerful 
  forearms and hands, while fresh cuts and bruises always adorn his knuckles, 
  strictly exacted by his rough lifestyle.
        Fitting snugly over Tyler's form is a tarnished, unmaintained hauberk 
  of chain-mail, through which an old blue tunic can be seen, the sleeves of 
  both trimmed off haphazardly at the shoulder. In a dented scabbard on his 
  left hip is a battered hand-and-a-half sword, its blade scarred and out of 
  repair. A serrated knife is also sheathed and located on a belt that wraps 
  about his middle. The pants he wears are crafted from faded brown leather 
  and his combat boots are worn-out, both suggestive of persistent action and 
  movement.

Another sleepless night. But then again, considering how ill Faanshi has slept 
  as of late, it's almost a boon to have received an anxious call from a 
  Varati woman with a Mongrel husband, who'd needed her to come and purge the 
  fevers from her husband's flesh, after he'd been sick for a week. "They say 
  that you heal without reserve, imphada," the desperate woman had greeted 
  her. "In the name of Ushas I beg you... heal him!"
With an appeal like that... even if the husband had not been a Mongrel... 
  Faanshi could not have done anything but spend an hour at the man's bedside, 
  pouring magic into his ill body, and two more hours comforting the exhausted 
  wife as much as she could.
Now, the halfbreed maiden and her loyal dog can finally return to the embassy, 
  and Faanshi trudges back in that direction through the city park. Back there 
  somewhere in the shadows, she knows, one of the Lions of Fire is following 
  her. But he has not showed himself, and thus, it is almost as if she is 
  still alone.

Sweat runs sluggishly over rugged features and beads upon his brow despite the 
  cool, windy weather as Tyler positively sprints into the garden, leaving all 
  manner of flora in disarray until he finally reaches the cobblestone path. 
  He stumbles when the terrain suddenly transforms and roughens, halting 
  abruptly to let balance eventually stabilize him. Heavy, desperate pants are 
  all that he breathes, excited eyes soaring this way and that as he bolts 
  once more along the cobbles. The sturdy mongrel was not gifted with a 
  slender runner's frame, but neither is he terribly unwieldy. Up ahead, 
  unseen by Tyler who appears to be looking frantically in every direction 
  /but/ straight ahead, half-breed and dog unfold from the darkness. And he's 
  headed straight for them.

Kosha is far more alert than the maiden at this hour, especially after Faanshi 
  has expended her magic. And thus the dog sees Tyler coming before Faanshi 
  does. Charging towards them as the Mongrel man is, the big hound immediately 
  leaps forward, already starting to growl a warning to the healer girl. 
  Faanshi does not scream -- but she does emit a startled little yelp as her 
  head snaps up to see what has roused the attention of the dog.

At the sight of the rather large dog leaping in his direction, Tyler falters. 
  The toe of one boot snags on a half-buried stone, pitching the heavy body 
  forward through the air at an uncomfortable rate. Before the mongrel knows 
  it, he's tasting dirt, sprawled face-first not all that far away from 
  Faanshi, his running momentum having driven a furrow in the ground where he 
  hit and skid. Rich black soil and blades of broken grass adorn the lower 
  half of his face, and a belated groan is elicited from the rough impact. But 
  more importantly, the fall caused him to lose his grip on the pouch he had 
  so protectively clutched in one hand. It flies through the air and lands in 
  an almost gentle manner at the ground below the half-breed, the sound of 
  shifting coins registering from within.

"Ushas... Imphadi? Kosha, Kosha, be at peace--" Faanshi gasps this out in 
  startlement, glancing wide-eyedly first down to the pouch that clinks at her 
  feet and then at the man who's sprawled heavily in her path. She kneels as 
  swiftly as she can to retrieve the pouch, then she advances unsurely upon 
  the fallen form. "Imphadi, are you... are you all right?" The hound backs up 
  a few paces, but a growl still rattles in his throat.

The mongrel lying there almost has a charming, dashing look about him for the 
  moment, all sunny hair and radiant eyes, despite his clumsily-sprawled body. 
  But after he runs his forearm over his lips and nose to banish the bad taste 
  of earth, all implications of charm are dispelled. "What do /you/ think, 
  sweetheart?" comes the unfriendly demand, heavy laced with severe 
  irritation. A colorful curse ensues as he plants his hands and begins 
  hauling himself to his feet, chest ridden with dirt and grass. Then he 
  notices the distinct lack of a pouch in his hand. "My money!" he yelps 
  helplessly, spinning around, scanning the darkened ground wildly and 
  desperately for any sign of it.

"If you seek this," the maiden says softly and humbly, holding forth the 
  pouch, "here it is, Imphadi..." Faanshi has dipped her eyes now, there where 
  she kneels, so though she holds the pouch out her gaze is now pointed below 
  it. "Forgive me and my dog for startling you and causing you to stumble..." 
  She does not yet offer to heal the man, though her magic ripples out almost 
  of its own accord, as she tries to see if her senses can tell her of any 
  damage he might have taken in the fall.

There appears to be no physical damage to the mongrel as he bounds forth to 
  possessively snatch the pouch filled with coin from the gentle woman's 
  grasp. "It better all be here," he growls reproachfully, pulling the strings 
  to peer within as though he could count the coins in the dark pouch with his 
  eyes alone. Somehow satisfied, he makes a quick job out of lashing it to his 
  belt, then glances nervously behind him. A blind man could follow his trail. 
  Attention fixing on Faanshi for the first time, his expression and demeanor 
  seem to soften. "Sorry ... that's my, um," Tyler mumbles guility, "my 
  uncle's money ... and he's sick."

Kosha growls a little more loudly, thrusting his muzzle forward in reaction to 
  that snatching hand; the dog eases down, though, as Tyler seems to do so. 
  Faanshi is still kneeling, and her sungolden hand drops away as the pouch is 
  taken, leaving her free to reach for the dog and soothe him with her touch. 
  But the halfbreed girl starts a little at that last mumble, her head lifting 
  momentarily though not enough to bring her gaze up into the young man's line 
  of sight. She is weary... but if there's someone in need... _Ushas._ "I 
  sorrow to hear of your kinsman's illness," comes that quiet, shy voice from 
  somewhere behind the veil that hides her face. "But I am a healer, and if he 
  is in need... I would be honored to come and see what I can do..."

He cannot see her face ... but that /voice/. How he could deceive something so 
  innocent-sounding? Tyler rakes a hand through his tousled locks of lemon 
  hue, a couple of dried leaves falling from them. "Oh, no," he answers rather 
  insistently, "he's not /that/ kind of sick. /Home/sick, I meant to say. He's 
  fine, actually. Money makes him feel better." One thing Tyler /can/ do--even 
  if his words are not all that convincing--is practically glow with boyish 
  innocence. Suddenly smiling a bright smile, he seems to forget all about his 
  pursuers, kneeling down to perhaps bring his anxious eyes to a level with 
  the half-breed's own. "But thanks all the same," he murmurs, persistently 
  trying to find her eyes.

Kosha still isn't entirely convinced that this stranger over whom he's 
  practically tripped is a good thing, and so although he has stopped 
  growling, the dog continues to glare balefully at the fellow. Perhaps it's 
  the touch of the girl's hand at his ruff that's calmed him, though, even as 
  he lurks protectively at her side. For her own part the maiden furrows her 
  brow in a bit of bemusement, but seems willing enough to accept this hasty 
  correction. Her head -- covered by silk whose hue is not necessarily easily 
  determined in the darkness, even with what little light the moon casts down 
  through the trees -- bobs once, but remains bowed.... though not so low that 
  her features are entirely out of view. A glimpse of delicate dark brows can 
  be gotten easily enough, and beneath them, the crescents of lowered lashes 
  hiding the actual hue of her gaze. All else is hidden beneath her veil. 
  "Then it is fortunate you have been blessed with acquiring it... you are 
  welcome, Imphadi."

Acquiring what? Tyler shakes his head once or twice, blinking his 
  brilliantly-colored eyes quickly. Oh yeah. The pouch. He clears his throat a 
  little. "Why won't you look at me?" he wonders with all the curiosity he can 
  assume, letting his friendly smile overlap easily into the tones of his 
  questioning voice. "I don't bite." Kosha gets a quick glance. He might make 
  an exception for the mutt, his gaze seems to convey.

There is a moment of silence from the maiden, and then she murmurs, "Because 
  you... are a man, Imphadi." No more than that, as if that alone is enough 
  explanation for her; there is an ever so slight uncertain tone to that shy 
  little voice now as well, as though it does not entirely make sense to her 
  that she is being asked such a thing.

"So is about half the world," Tyler notes softly, shifting a little in his 
  kneeled position. Evidently, the mongrel is not caught up on Varati custom. 
  If that doesn't work, he adds a nearly whimpered, "Please?" and continues on 
  in sincere-sounding tones. "If you think I /mind/, you're wrong. I wanna see 
  you."

It is often said that the Varati are people of stone, their warriors hewn from 
  the very mountains, their women from marble. But if even if this is true, it 
  would seem that this maiden is not stone enough to resist such a plea... 
  though this means only that her head does come up with extreme shyness, and 
  then only enough for her to better look up. It is dark out tonight. But 
  there is enough light to make out the shape of her eyes, strangely slanted 
  and strangely shaped for a Varati maiden... and their hue, strangely 
  _green_. This she allows herself for only a few fleeting moments, however. 
  Faanshi dips her gaze once more after a few moments, murmuring, "I-it is not 
  proper for me to meet the gaze of a man, Imphadi..."

She encounters Tyler's eyes, intensely blue, gazing rather excitedly back into 
  her own for as long as she allows it, but the veil and the darkness still 
  serves to shroud the rest of her visage. A cheerful, lopsided smile finds 
  his rugged features. But once her gaze is dipped away, he looses himself 
  from her thrall. The mongrel, like Varati customs, knows little about their 
  physical characteristics. He does not know that her eyes ought to be darker, 
  never ponders that she should be fuller of stature. "Why?" he wants to know. 
  Certainly /this/ little, innocent creature is no slave! Besides, slaves are 
  supposed to be in chains and rags, aren't they? "Who says so?" His questions 
  are concerned ones, but not raised in a harsh way.

Slave she assuredly cannot be, not with the silks she wears upon her slender 
  form, nor the great and currently peevish hound parked determined as any 
  bodyguard of two feet would be at her side. And to be sure, no slave would 
  be wandering about in Haven at this time of night, unaccompanied by any 
  escort... but then again, what _respectable_ woman would be wandering about 
  in Haven at this time of night? Faanshi pauses, though, turning her face 
  towards the attentive hound even as she pats at his fur. This coaxes Kosha 
  to turn and nudge at her hopefully, in search of more direct scritches, 
  while she whispers in awkward tones, "It... is the way of the Varati people, 
  Imphadi... it..."

The mongrel looks nonplussed. Purebloods and their 'ways.' He snorts defiantly 
  and falls back onto his bottom as if resigned, slipping out of his kneeling 
  position to sit in the soft grass of the city's garden. "/I'm/ not Varati," 
  he robustly points out, thrusting a thumb at his chest for emphasis, "and 
  you don't hafta act like that around me, got that?" In a mumble, he goes on 
  to add, "Unless you just wanna." Another glance over his shoulder still 
  shows no signs of continued pursuit.

As long as Faanshi does not appear to be going anywhere any time soon, Kosha 
  leans over against her -- all the better to place his large teeth between 
  her person and any potential threat this still-unproven stranger might 
  happen to prove to his beloved mistress. Faanshi herself merely pauses a 
  moment, trying to surreptitiously ward off her exhaustion by closing her 
  eyes a moment and controlling her breathing... but still. Her eyes feel 
  gritty, and the path is damp and hard beneath her knees. But then she peeks 
  up a trifle unsurely above her veil, asking uncertainly, "Act as... what, 
  Imphadi?" She can make guesses. But it's nice to have these things clearly 
  explained.

"'Imphadi?'" Another snort. "You /don't/ hafta call me that, sweetheart, or 
  hide behind that veil if you don't wanna. /That's/ what I mean." Tyler has 
  adopted a disdainful scowl now--this mongrel's temperament shifts like sand 
  enveloped in a whirlwind--but it's noteworthy that the expression doesn't 
  seem to be directed at the shudra personally, but perhaps Varati in general. 
  He writhes around in the damp grass, trying to get comfortable, finally 
  settling down with his knees bent before him, arms resting atop. A creeping 
  drop of sweat is swiped away from his brow as he regards Faanshi once more, 
  hoping that perhaps she will show him a less docile facet of herself and 
  watching expectantly.

Does it startle Faanshi, to be so casually, familiarly addressed? Certain she 
  makes a small, surprised noise as she is called 'sweetheart', and this 
  provokes a wide-eyed peek over the top of her dark silken veil. But she then 
  blushes, saying softly, "It... it is meant to honor, Imphadi... but if you 
  wish I-I will not call you that... some do not like it, I know...!"

"But why would you wanna honor /me/?" Tyler wonders aloud, his bronze brow 
  furrowing with thought. He sits in the dampened grass before the shudra, 
  knees bent before him, watching Faanshi with an intrigued air about himself. 
  A rather fond smile edges its way onto his rugged features, beginning to 
  banish the scowl he had donned, when he sees those green eyes peeking up at 
  him. "Take your veil off." His impulsive, urging challenge is followed by 
  the teasing whisper, "Bet you're pretty under there, aren't you? Lemme see."

"I--" This escapes the halfbreed healer in a little squeak of surprise, and 
  all at once, she begins to try to get to her feet, pushing gently at Kosha 
  to get him to back off enough that she might rise. "I-I... should not... it 
  is not proper, you see... I should return to Atesh-Gah anyway... it is 
  late...!"

The sound of laughter not far off alerts those in the garden that more people 
  approach. But even before they can be seen clearly, the one stops, halting 
  the other beside her. Floppy wings, and a sudden glare of murderous intent 
  wash over the young empyrean. "Boden, I got to do something. Back me up, and 
  if he gets me good, you go at him." Then, with the speed of a charging bull, 
  Tienne runs, her target. Tyler. His back preferably.

The young mongrel that Sebastienne named as Boden blinks in surprise at the 
  girl's sudden mood shift. "Tienne whats gotten int... hey" His voice a 
  little annoyed, but quiet. He picks up the pace quickly and quietly pacing 
  over the ground to catch up to his enraged companion.

"Whoa, sweetheart, wait up," the mongrel tries to coax, settling his hands 
  into the grass and hauling himself to his feet with a quiet grunt. "If you 
  don't wanna take it off, that's okay, but you don't gotta /go/." A 
  surprisingly soft smile is found as he pauses. "Come on, it's me. I 
  wouldn't--" With all suddenness--he thought he heard /something/ behind him, 
  but dismissed it--the little Empyrean slams into an unaware Tyler, knocking 
  the mongrel flat on his face with her charging momentum. "Son of a--!" The 
  rest of the indignant, shocked curse is muffled in the dark soil and wet 
  grass.

"Holy Mother of the Hawk of Heaven," Faanshi cries, though rather softer than 
  both Tyler's exclamation and the sudden frantic barking of the dog now 
  startled into leaping to his feet by the Empyrean girl. Only now, perhaps, 
  does the maiden show a little bit more of what Tyler might perhaps have been 
  looking for; she does not scream, but she does throw out a hand in desperate 
  entreaty, exclaming in a voice uncharacteristically loudly, "Stop...! I beg 
  you, stop...!"

Stop? How absurd. Tienne has the rat faced Tyler just where she wants him. And 
  as the rush of adrenaline kicks in, she lets out her fury. Fists close and 
  begin pounding into the back of the man she half straddles. "I won't fight 
  you elswhere, but here.. you have no say, nor does anyone else! You ever.." 
  Pound pound. "Call me.." Pound pound. "That again.. " POUND. "And I will 
  have your tongue!" Wings flop out to her sides as she beats on the fallen 
  Tyler. HHer knuckles clinking against the chainmail until they crack and 
  bleed. Seeing as that is becoming painful, she recoils and prepares to move 
  the attacks to the head. Oh, the little hellcat is furious.

Boden gasps, great she's gone nuts again, "Tienne! Tienne! Stop! come on! 
  quickly! lets get out of here?" His pleading voice is a little hushed, not 
  that it would help to avoid bringing hounds down on them from the girl's own 
  screaming. Boden finally arrives beside them and tries to avoid the dog that 
  seems angered by this new distraction. "Tienne! what in the name... what are 
  you doing?"

The sturdy mongrel takes each flailing fist with a pained grunt. Meanwhile, 
  his hands claw into the earth, staining his bronze skin as he lifts his face 
  from the ground. As one of her last punches slams into the sensitive area at 
  the nape of his neck, he gives a roared, "Damnit, kid!" and suddenly makes a 
  powerful twist, trying to throw the light Sebastienne to his left with his 
  shifting weight as he kicks and pushes off the ground with the right side of 
  his body. Tyler's ideal goal, if he can throw her, is to roll right around 
  on top of her.

Faanshi is already tired, her power worn down thin by the healing she's had to 
  work this night. Now, the little hurts and pains Tyler is receiving at 
  Sebastienne's hands and the hurts the girl is dealing herself by pummelling 
  his armor begin to sting at the shudra's awareness like a swarm of gnats. 
  The halfbreed lifts a hand to her temple, wincing above her veil. While 
  Kosha snarlingly interposes himself between her and the combatants, she 
  cries raggedly, "_Please_, stop, imphadi... imphada!"

The maneuver works and Tienne topples off sideways. Rolling upon one wing and 
  leaving the other flopped out. She lets out a grunt and glares upwards just 
  as Tyler manages to get atop her. Fists go up again, this time aiming for 
  the gut. "Get off! You deserve everything you get!" Looking up, the remnants 
  of a bruise hang below her eye, and it would appear that the girl has a 
  knack for fighting.. at least.. finding them. "You ruined! Ruined 
  everything!" Arms back... and thwup! Frontward pounding now.

Hands seize Tyler's shoulder, trying to push him off. "Hey! Get off of her. 
  Tienne get up!" Easier said then done he imagines. "Get offa her you thug!" 
  Wait didnt Sebastienne start this little brawl? Boden shake's the man's 
  shoulder and then pushesat it, trying to tip the man off of his friend and 
  give her an advantage again.

The initial sock to the tummy summons a rather distressed look on the 
  impetuous features of Tyler, a muffled yelp elicited by the punch. That one 
  really hurt. Big hands then immediately close around little biceps as he 
  forces her arms to the side before any more damage may be done by those wild 
  fists, his much heavier weight bearing down on her from above, nails biting 
  into her flesh. Boden's efforts do not prove very successful, rocking and 
  aggravating Tyler whose hands are occupied, but not loosening him enough for 
  the Empyrean to wriggle away just yet. He glares down at Sebastienne now 
  that he has the obvious upper hand, looking absolutely rabid and reckless, 
  like he was planning on /biting/ her. But instead, he kisses her. Chaste, 
  embarrassing, indignifying kisses that attempt to peck in quick succession 
  all over her face. And soon Tyler is laughing playfully.

All of this is now desperately confusing, and all that Faanshi can tell 
  initially is that the fight surely cannot be particularly serious, at least 
  if the Mongrel man is... laughing? Rubbing a knuckle across her eyes, the 
  shudra takes an uncertain step backwards, then peers off blearily into the 
  shadows. She's got a sentry out there, one of the Lions of Fire -- at least, 
  she thinks she does. Is he seeing this? Will he report it to the Seraskier? 
  Should she leave, and let the disturbing Mongrel handle this sudden attack? 
  "Kosha," she croaks, "come..." And the dog, his growls subsiding as he 
  realizes no one is about to leap at Faanshi, edges warily backwards toward 
  her.

Sebastienne yowls as the hands pin her down, it hurts! But then as he leans 
  down, she growls and closes her eyes, only to feel the pecking of lips upon 
  her face?!? "Uahagh! What are you doing?! Stop it! Stop it! Damn you!" This 
  is more enfuriating than being called Lil Miss Floppy Wings. She squirms and 
  turns her head this way and that, trying to avoid the kisses. Oh.. now she 
  is really really mad at him.

Boden lets go and stares blankly in horror at the way this man reacts, perhaps 
  a fate worse then death for Tienne with the way she seems to despise this 
  man. "No you just... Stop that get offa her!" He back up this time and 
  throws himself, trying to shoulder into the side of the mongrel that 
  torments his best friend so.

"If you wanted a /kiss/, sweetheart, why didn't you just say so?" the 
  yellow-haired mongrel asks with a laugh, his grip on the Empyrean's arms 
  loosening somewhat, but still keeping sufficient pressure there. "You're 
  kinda cute when you're all riled up--" Tyler's latest tease is cut short 
  when Boden slams himself into the bigger mongrel, whose seriousness seems to 
  have dramatically faded. He's knocked off of Sebastienne, but does not fight 
  to stay atop her at all. In fact, he gives an extra roll to the side to put 
  even more distance between himself and the others, ending up on his knees 
  several feet away, slightly dizzy, with a rather large grin on his face as 
  he watches, blond eyebrows lifted curiously.

Faanshi, now quite disturbed, looks from face to face; her delicate black 
  brows have drawn together over eyes gone taut with strain, and the maiden's 
  husky plea for the blows to cease may well go primarily unheard underneath 
  the noises of the scuffle. But no one is _seriously_ hurt, and the 
  fair-haired, armored stranger seems strangely amused by it all... and so 
  Faanshi cannot help but wonder if she should simply leave these people to 
  their business. She rubs a hand across her eyes again, trying to get herself 
  out of range of the little nagging gnat-bites in her consciousness that are 
  each and every blow exchanged, to her magic. But she has been up for 
  seventeen hours straight now, and there's a weakness in her limbs that 
  forces her to stop and fling a hand out to the first tree she reaches, her 
  head bowed as she attempts to sternly advise her legs that going unsteady 
  beneath her would _not_ be a wise idea. Kosha, meanwhile, gives a few more 
  growling whines at the three wrestling around with one another, before 
  slinking off to follow the shudra. A small snort of dismay blows out through 
  the big hound's nose.

Nox arrives from the shady path to the west.
Nox has arrived.

Sebastienne is growling furiously under the hold of Tyler, her arms aching. 
  But then, yahoo! Sidekick to the rescue! As Tyler is toppled off, she sits 
  up, using her hands to pull wings out from under her and towards the back. 
  "You just keep making things worse! I hate you!" She cries towards Tyler as 
  her hands come up to wipe her face roughly. She takes another step, her hand 
  reaching into her pocket for something. Is she intending a second round? By 
  the mad look on her face.. it appears so.

Now that tyler is at least off of her for the momment Boden grabs Tienne's 
  shoulder and hisses, "Enough Tienne, this is not the time or the place you 
  know..." he growls softly in her ear to let her know that he means it and 
  nods his head suggesting they flee.

Nox ' dark forms is almost invisible against the nightly sky, but his approach 
  and the cool wind blowing through his feathers is anything but silent. As he 
  catches Sebastienne's cries even from afar, his eyes narrow down on the 
  scene enfolding in the dim moonlight in front of him. With a shift of his 
  wings, he adapts his direction in order to glide down to the ones brawling 
  on the ground.

"/Hate/ me?" Tyler asks, sounding shocked and dismayed. "That hurts my 
  feelings, sweetheart." The cool grin on his face contradicts this spoken 
  information, however, and he issues the faintest of laughs. "Look, why don't 
  you scurry off and go play, huh? I /was/ talking to some--" Where'd she go? 
  Tossing his head back and forth, he searches for the half-breed shudra, 
  lucent blue eyes trying to cut into the surrounding darkness. Kosha's large 
  form leads him to her. Tyler scratches briefly at the back of his head, 
  wondering just what could have happened to her, for he sees Faanshi bracing 
  herself against a tree. Without another thought, he hops from his knees to 
  his booted feet and starts walking that way, skirting around mongrel and 
  Empyreans. "Hey ... you okay ...?" he gently tries, unknowing of the woman's 
  name.

Doubtless unsurprisingly to anyone, Faanshi does not look up. A shudder of 
  relief passes through her as her senses tell her that the Mongrels and the 
  Empyrean girl, at least for now, have ceased striking one another; 
  something's nagging in the back of her mind about the voices of the newer 
  arrivals, though as of yet she has not connected them in memory to her prior 
  meeting. All of her attention is seized for now with controlling her 
  breathing as best she can... and keeping from collapsing. "I am... unharmed, 
  Imphadi," she whispers, voice sounding hollow and small, as though she were 
  speaking from a distance. "Merely... tired. It will pass."

Kosha, for his part, issues another low snort at Tyler, eying him balefully as 
  he approaches. The dog's ears are up, but his tail is down, so perhaps he's 
  not about to leap on anybody. At the moment, at any rate.

Sebastienne glares at Tyler. "I will get you for this.. Mark my words you 
  rat!" She spits and pounds a fist into the ground as Boden pulls on her to 
  urge her back. She turns her eyes on him. "Damnit Boden, he is ruining it! 
  RUINING IT!" She shakes her head. "I won't let that little rat push me out 
  of our new home.. I won't! I don't care what it takes." She huffs and rubs 
  at her bruised biceps. Damn he has good fingernails for a boy.
Good lips too.. though she'd never admit that. Hrmph.

Boden shakes his head and tugs on the girl more fiercely this time, "Damnit 
  Tienne, before the hounds or worse come out of the woodwork, He aint pushing 
  us from anything..." A glance is thrown towards Tyler as skirtchases after 
  Faanshi. "C'mon, lets get back before Cyn misses us, you know we have 
  lessons in a little bit."

Or worse. Nox lands on a soft spot near the gathering, his boots swirling up 
  some dirt from the ground. "Good eve, everybody," he calls out in a cheerful 
  voice as he approaches, his steps directed to the space between Sebastienne 
  and Tyler. "My, now, why would anybody let such a nice evening be destroyed 
  by an argument. I'm sure there's no need to shout and scream, and much less 
  reason to fight, is there? Everything's all right, I hope?" Is that annoying 
  dark Empyrean really in such a good, shiny mood, or is it all just fake and 
  mocking. Hard to tell....

Nox
        An Empyrean of slightly below average height, with sleek, swarthy 
  skin. His heart-shaped face still has faint traces of femininity and 
  smoothness from the past, but it has clearly suffered in recent times: The 
  high cheekbones have become hollow and the curved lips cracked and dried 
  out, giving the young man a haggard appearance. The light in his violet 
  slanted eyes, below a pair of finely arched, deep black eyebrows, has become 
  duller, now shining with the intensity taken from suffering and desperation. 
  Long black hair flows losely down to his shoulders. 
        His body is lithe and slender. Originally of thin, light build, recent 
  training has given Nox broad biceps, a hardened musculature and a flat 
  stomach, making him neither big nor bulky, but well-proportioned, even if 
  somewhat underfed. The most remarkable aspect of him are his wings: Covered 
  with thick feathers of raven-black, they arc high over his shoulders, 
  broadening his frame and covering his back, elegantly curving down. At a 
  closer look, a few pristine white feathers sprouting near his back on both 
  wings can be observed. 
The dark Empyrean wears a set of simple clothes: a wide grey woolen shirt with 
  short sleeves that slips over his waist, held together by a narrow, simple 
  belt, and a pair of well-fitting, black leather leggings. Small feet snug in 
  hardened, worn out boots of brown leather. Clasped to his shoulders is a 
  thin black cape that is hanging losely down his back, framing his lithe 
  figure to his knees. Attached to one side of the belt is an sheathed, 
  unardorned longsword, while the hilt of a small throwing knife is revealed 
  at the other.

The tall mongrel has heard all manner of curses and threats flung at him from 
  far more intimidating people than Sebastienne. To think that she could 
  impress him is nearly laughable. So he rolls his eyes, back turned to the 
  commotion, still grinning despite the grave sound to the shudra's voice as 
  she reports her condition. One hand rubs idly at the nape of his neck. The 
  little wimp /did/ hit him pretty good there, he has to admit, wincing as he 
  encounters swelling. Meanwhile, he pays Kosha a quick, unfriendly glare 
  before lifting his eyes and his voice to Faanshi, sounding uncertain, "You 
  need some help?" Before protests can find his ears, he begins moving nearer, 
  cautious around the big hound.

Sebastienne just grits her teeth and shrugs. She grabs up Boden's hand and 
  turns. "We wlil talk more in our tent." As Nox lands she huffs, looking like 
  an exasperated teen told to do chores on their way out for the day. "I'll 
  not have him mocking me. Especially in the .. confines of what is supposed 
  to be home." She glares to Tyler and moves past Nox. "I'll be in my tent if 
  you wish to hear the story, I wish not another moment in his presence." She 
  pulls on Boden and scurries off.

Nox's landing and abrupt interjection of himself into the scene distracts 
  Faanshi from Tyler, as it happens; the maiden snaps her attention in the 
  lean darkling's direction for a moment, even as her skittish hound yurfs 
  restlessly, bothered by all of this activity around him. _He_ just wants to 
  go curl up in a corner somewhere and sleep! She flashes a glance towards 
  Tienne and Boden, brow furrowing, before at last something draws her 
  attention back to Tyler. And keeps it on him, eyes up for once, black brows 
  still drawn together over her eyes. "You are in pain, Imphadi," she says 
  then. It is not a question, and her gaze is now strangely searching, 
  strangely aware.

Nox tips his forehead in a vague, lax gesture, "Take care, Sebastienne. I will 
  drop by later. And I can try to beat it into his think skull that he 
  shouldn't bother you anymore."

Boden grumbles at his droopy winged companion as she turns to leave and 
  acctually decides now to pull /him/ along with her. The mouse, as Boden is 
  called by some, can be heard grumbling, "You know if ya had left well enough 
  alone earlier we could have made it back in time for some food from that 
  Varati with the large belly.. but he'll be closed by now!" his voice fades 
  as the two of them stalk off into the night.

Nox makes a soothing tone to the dog, trying with an appeasing, amateurish 
  gesture to get him to calm down again. His approach towards Faanshi is more 
  careful than his previous paces, wings folded back to his back, to not 
  irritate Kosha even more. He offers Faanshi a subtle, polite nod of 
  greeting, but does not interrupt the conversation she is having with 
  Faanshi. Tyler's presence is for the moment just ignored.

With a shake of his tousled locks, the mongrel declines. "Who, me? Nah. I'm 
  fine." He smiles for effect, edging closer, following with his eyes the 
  length of Faanshi's slender arm as it settles against the tree. Then Tyler 
  meets her green-eyed gaze openly, saying, "I think /you're/ the one who's 
  not doing so well, huh? Lemme help you. Please?" The dark Empyrean's 
  approach is noted from the corner of blue eyes and a murmured, "Hey, 
  Blacky," is offered to him from the mongrel's lips, rather friendly-sounding.

She can feel the little pain of the lump on the back of Tyler's neck, but as 
  he has not asked for her aid, Faanshi does not attempt to reach for him. 
  Indeed, she lowers her hand from the tree trunk in a slow and careful 
  motion, and lowers her gaze away shyly at the same time. "It is passing, 
  Imphadi," she murmurs. "You and the others have ceased to fight... you have 
  helped already." There's a little more strength in her voice now, but no 
  less shyness, and it doesn't grow any louder as she appends humbly towards 
  Nox, "Ave, dominus..."

Nox stretches his hand out to run it through Kosha's fur, taking care that he 
  won't bite off a finger or four. "Please, it's Nox," he says softly to 
  Faanshi, looking up to her without staring at her. "How have you been, 
  Faanshi? I'm glad to see you back." A wry grin is given to Tyler. "Tyler," 
  he greets in a considerably rougher, slightly sarcasting, but not unfriendly 
  tone. "There's girls, and there's trouble around. Not a surprise that you 
  are, too. Should've just smelled you from the distance."

Sniffing the air, Tyler continues rubbing experimentally at the back of his 
  neck, casting the Empyrean a doubtful look. "My two favorite things," he 
  then points out with a winning smile, summarily stretching his muscular arms 
  above his head and opening his mouth in a wide yawn that he doesn't bother 
  shielding. "Sure you're okay?" The mongrel goes back to addressing the 
  delicate half-breed directly. "I dunno /what/ got into her," he fibs, 
  turning to indicate the direction that Sebastienne was drug off in, "but I 
  didn't mean to ... upset you or anything." His smile intensifies. "I can 
  give /you/ a kiss, too, if you feel left out," he cheerfully volunteers.

It might be dark and Faanshi might be veiled, but neither of these is any 
  hindrance in the slightest to detecting the wave of profound shyness and 
  embarrassment that sweeps over the girl at _that_ suggestion. Her gaze 
  plummets straight to her feet, and along with it, her entire frame might be 
  noted to almost shrink in on itself an inch or two. In an extremely tiny 
  voice she mumbles, "Th... that w-w-will not be necessary, Imphadi... I... 
  I-I think I should go home now... please pardon me, Imphadi... Dom--I-I 
  mean, Nox..." And as she babbles out these startled syllables, the girl 
  attempts to flee, only to demonstrate that she's not entirely up to swift 
  movement. Flee she does, but her steps are unsteady, and her slender form 
  lurches slightly sideways as she does. This provokes the anxious Kosha into 
  whining as well as into motion, as he launches himself after her, ears 
  flattened along his skull.

Nox doesn't shove his rough charm into Faanshi's veiled face the way Tyler 
  does. Instead, he tries a more delicate approach. "You don't have to leave," 
  he notes softly. "There's nothing to be frightened of. Tyler's methods might 
  not be the most tactful, but I am sure he's learned by now to restrain 
  himself." A warning shoot is given to the man he talks about as he mutters 
  to him, "Can't blame Sebastienne for what she did."

"I can't?" the mongrel asks, surprised, for the Empyrean's ears alone. "Who 
  /can/ I blame, then? The voices in her crazy little head?" Tyler gives a hot 
  snort through his nose, half irritated that Nox would say such a thing, the 
  other half amused that at his own reply. As for Faanshi, he seems proud of 
  himself that he could bring out such bashful babbling, and idly wonders what 
  golden-toned skin looks like when its owner blushes. He just hopes it wasn't 
  at the expense of hurting her feelings. Lifting his hands, he laces them 
  together behind his head, fingers intertwining with lemon-hued strands of 
  hair, his gaze turning toward the departing form of the slight shudra.

"It is late," Faanshi blurts at Nox, "a-a-and the khansamah expected me hours 
  ago..." From the mortified tone of those soft, gentle words, the maiden is 
  undoubtedly blushing, but it's hidden away beneath the concealing dark silk 
  that shields her face from view and the moonlight. She's willing to risk one 
  last glance at the darkling; Tyler she cannot bear to look at at all, now. 
  She heard no malice in his teasing suggestion, but nevertheless it's 
  flustered her, and thus the bow she manages towards the men is sketchy at 
  best. "N-Namaste'... ave... I... Oh, Ushas...!" And with that, quite 
  abruptly, the maiden takes off running, anxious dog breaking into a lope at 
  her heels.

Nox folds his hands behind his back, watching the halfbreed leave in peace. 
  "Take care, Faanshi," he says, disregarding any farewells used by the races, 
  but sounding more genuine, despite of it. "I hope you will not be chided 
  when you get back. Maybe, we can meet again in better circumstances." He 
  does not shift his own stance, just remains standing where he is, letting 
  the wind play with his long black hair.

The mongrel's jaw is clenched and the heel of one foot taps rather impatiently 
  against the wet grass beneath him. He seems to want to stop the half-breed 
  from going, but at the same time, he finds a need not to, wants to just let 
  her go in relative peace. His resolve breaks. "Hey, wait!" he calls after 
  the slender creature, adopting a brisk jog as he begins to hurriedly follow. 
  "Be seeing you, Blacky," are the parting words he tosses back over his 
  shoulder at Nox, the rest of his words prevailing enough to reach Faanshi's 
  ears. "At least lemme walk you home, huh? It's dangerous out here!"

Nox calls out to Tyler, half-laughingly, "She's got one dog already, Tyler. 
  That one can protect her much better than you could. And, judging from the 
  effect you had on other girls tonight, is much less of a danger as well." He 
  spreads his wings behind his back, apparently readying himself to just soar 
  up on the spot.

Faanshi, indeed, has a dog; there Kosha is, loping along beside her as the 
  girl bolts along what little she can see of the path. But she has another 
  escort as well, the unseen eyes of the Agni-Haidar. She doesn't know where 
  he is. But the Seraskier Zuhayr said that his Lions of Fire would be 
  following her. Watching. And they knew she'd left Atesh-Gah, some hours ago. 
  Therefore, somewhere out in the surrounding night, there must surely be a 
  Lion of Fire. Watching her. She isn't sure what frightens her more -- the 
  thought that this fair-haired glib-tongued Mongrel might try to make more 
  startling suggestions or perhaps even worse if he remains in her presence, 
  or the thought that Zuhayr's warrior might erupt out of the night to finally 
  manifest his presence. But she says none of this. Tired as she is, it 
  doesn't take long for Tyler to catch up with her, and all she relays to him 
  is a wide-eyed look of what can only be panic.

When the mongrel catches up, he's panting lightly, the long night's exertion 
  taking its toll on him so that even the short jog leaves him wishing for the 
  seat of a bench. "Hey, slow down, huh? I just wanna make sure you get home 
  all right--you look kinda scared." He evidently does not know that that 
  could because of /him/, and his unwanted persistency. "Unless you wanna 
  race," he suggests with an adventurous grin. There's nothing quite like 
  competition to banish fatigue, at least for the mongrel there isn't.

Nox rolls his eyes, groaning on the inside. With a light flap, he lifts 
  himself off the ground. One last attempt to get Tyler off his foolish plan, 
  "Tyler. Why don't we go and catch a drink. I'll race against you to the 
  Song...I'm sure I'm more of a challenge for you than her. I promise even not 
  to use my wings." He tries to maintain his low position off the ground, 
  gliding as slowly as he can behind the two as the wind whistles through his 
  broad wings.

Faanshi has a good deal of stamina despite her delicate frame -- or at least 
  she usually does, when she's not reeling with exhaustion. She stumbles 
  backwards from Tyler, more or less to a stop, while Kosha skids to a halt of 
  his own and peers around warily from behind the maiden's trembling legs. 
  Down goes her gaze again, while her hand lifts to her head. "That... that is 
  all you want?" she whispers, soft voice gone hoarse.

Tyler, too, stumbles to a halt, nearly losing his balance and falling forward. 
  He catches himself, however, nodding his head enthusiastically as his 
  panting breaths work on filling up his lungs with the cool, refreshing air. 
  "Yeah ... of course," he manages, elbows on his knees as he bends over 
  slightly, gazing up at her with vibrant blue eyes. "I was just kidding about 
  the kissing part, you know that." Was he? Tyler grins, straightening his 
  posture with a tired grunt, raking a scarred hand over his brow to swipe 
  aside some stray stands of blond hair. The soaring form of Nox and his 
  question are met with a laugh that's broken by the mongrel's fair share of 
  weariness. "Aww, you're no challenge, Blacky, those clumsy wings'll slow you 
  down if you can't flap them."

"If you were only jesting..." Faanshi has shrunk in on herself again, arms 
  wrapped about herself almost as if to add another layer of concealment on 
  top of her sari. Nox's suggestion earns an additional anxious spate of words 
  out of her, though. "If you w-wish to retire, Imphadi, Dom--I-I mean, Nox... 
  I will get home safely... I know the way...!" And as she speaks, Kosha edges 
  around beside her once again, casting another baleful stare upon Tyler, then 
  nudging hopefully at Faanshi's nearest hand for a scritch.

Nox drops his wings again as he lands at the side, watching the two unequal 
  personalities sorting it out. Too tiring to maintain a steady level of low 
  flight while talking. Brushing the lower end of his wings over the moist 
  grass, he flashes back a grin at Tyler, "Try me! In the situation you're in 
  right now, I bet I'd win against you with carrying a Varati warrior on my 
  back." Lets just hope Faanshi's unseen sentinel doesn't break his cover to 
  test Nox' claim. But, then again, the dark Empyrean /could/ have just said 
  such a bold statement to finally lure Tyler off the halfbreed. The smirk on 
  his face makes it hard to tell whether it's mocking or challenging. "And 
  you'd kiss one of them if he wore a skirt, so don't tell us otherwise." 
  Faanshi receives a much softer reply. "Don't worry about me, ma'am. The 
  night has just begun for me. And I'm sure that you and your dog can find 
  their way back home untroubled. I just wanted to invite Tyler to a drink."

Tyler's jaw sets with determination, and his chin lifts stubbornly. "A Varati 
  warrior, huh?" he seethes. Damnit, Nox. His fists clench. "You /know/ I 
  would /wear/ /you/ /out/ in a race, Blacky." No, he won't be lured away by 
  the darkling. He can race him later. Show him how wrong he is. "So don't 
  tempt me," he growls back with a grin, stepping away a little from the 
  gathering. "Do you /want/ me to go?" he curiously asks of the slender 
  shudra, brilliantly-hued eyes watching her carefully even if she won't 
  return the look. "Just say it, sweetheart. I didn't mean to get in the way 
  or anything ..." The mongrel trails off innocently.

"I--" Oh dear, he used _that_ word again. Shifting nervously on her sandaled 
  feet at being addressed as 'sweetheart', the shudra girl backs up another 
  step. It seems to take her more effort this time to find her voice, as she 
  blurts, "I... I-I think it would be for the best... I know the way and Kosha 
  will keep me safe..." Still very much nervous, Faanshi nevertheless drops a 
  bow to both men, sungolden hands clasping palm to palm at her breast. Force 
  of habit is a good thing, sometimes, in helping one maintain at least a 
  semblance of composure. "Namaste'... Kosha, come... come..." And with that, 
  she backs off down the path. Faanshi does not flee so quickly this time... 
  but it is obvious that she intends to make it home with her hound, and this 
  time, she does not let herself be stopped by determinedly persuasive 
  Mongrels. Soon enough, she's vanished into the night, red sari and all.

[End log.]