Walk About [Yvshold]

[Nnerka]

10 ASH 121

Nnerka shielded her eyes with a hand, a scowl resting on her lips. The heat of Searing had lessened, but the shine of the sun remained. Maybe she ought to invest in getting a parasol. The lands of her home had been rife with foliage to block the sun’s rays from shining down on them too harshly. Lazy days with her siblings, crowded in their webs. The thought pulled a sigh from her.

While she had seen her kind in the city before, she had not seen her kind. It made her feel more alienated as the years drew on. Another sigh, a dip of her head to avoid a low awning. She glanced down, her scowl deepening. It had been a conscious decision to opt for two legs rather than the usual six she had. A means of getting accustomed to the practice. She wasn’t pleased with the decision, but if she were being honest there was a slight bit of convenience to having only two legs. It made walking around a lot easier in terms of space.

The downside, however, was an imbalance that didn’t sit right with her. On that note, she ought to sit down. Searching for the nearest spot to rest that would hold her comfortably, she used various objects around her for support. On occasion, a head or two. But there was little challenge to the action as she stumbled forward. Gods, why was walking on two legs so difficult?

She heaved another sigh as she paused, stared down at what she could see of her legs. Things would be a lot simpler if she just had...her usual set of legs. A hand on her hip, she leaned up against a wall. Slipping into an alley seemed like an appropriate means of escaping the sun, as well. Until she realized it was occupied.

“Oh, my. Didn’t see you there.”

[Yshvold]

Why him? A question that seems to come instinctually as another person found his personal space to be more comfortable than somewhere else, fifty feet away. First Miss Hozxi approached him for no other reason than to inquire about his research and mock his intellect and now this strange... person?

He couldn't blame her though. It would have been hard to see him from outside the alley unless one simply walked in and he knew he had not been committing no crime so there should be any worries.

Right?

These thoughts were pushed back for fear that his old paranoia would get the better of him. Now was not the time to allow old habits to govern his actions, now was the time for... something? He didn't quite know what to do in this situation seeing as she did not present herself as an immediate threat to his person.

At first glance she looked... interesting? Not quite human but also not quite monster, her posture gave away that she was not used to moving as humans do. An abnormality that would be intensely watched if this was a day of study. For now she was merely just a distraction from his hunt for food. Thieving and robbing would be easy but too noisy but hunting vermin and other animals in the streets would not only sustain him but also help him train himself to better his skills should they become needed.

So why was this person here? To hunt? Pester him? Maybe it would be happenstance? Such is the laws that govern fate in this strange city and the people in it.

Yshvold sported his usual attire. Tan Cloak with a hood covering the entirety of his body and a plain white mask to hide his face. He watches her with hidden confusion as to why she would tread the lesser path that others take and stands as her approach scares away the few rats he had tracked for lunch.

"It was occupied, by prey, but now it is not. Do the people of this city enjoy interrupting hunters?" Yshvold voices his frustration quietly as he looks this newcomer up and down and confirming his suspicions.

"You are not like them. Why?" Frustration giving way to youthful curiosity, his lunch may have escaped but now there was another target of interest.

[Nnerka]

A quirk of her brow, a glance to the fleeing shadows of rats. Once, they might have made a viable meal for her, but the spider had gotten too big for that. Not enough nutrition, and all that. They did make for good practice when she was slightly older. Nnerka cocked her head to the side. She couldn’t see any visible features and it wasn’t like her vantage point was much help with that.

“You were hunting?” There was just the slightest touch of skepticism to her voice. An interesting challenge this two-legged child had set for itself. At least, she assumed it was a child. It was much, much smaller than the adults she had encountered over the seasons. The little creature was perhaps no higher than her hip. A single hand, if she so chose, could probably encompass the entirety of his face. “My apologies for interrupting. It was merely that you are so small, little one.”

Perhaps the population was getting smaller with each passing year. Or there were more goblins mixing with the people. Either option would have made sense to her. But — so small.

“Why am I different?” She repeated the question as if it made no sense to her — which it didn’t. Aside from the obvious difference in height, there were many things that could differentiate her from the next person on the street. For one, the numerous eyes that were trained now on the child. The sharpened canines that peeked out as she smiled and spoke, her words musical.

She, with some effort, crouched down in front of the child. The act of balancing this low was something she still needed to get used to. One hand rested on the nearest wall to keep her steady. “Do you know what a predator is, child?”

[Yshvold]

Her question sparked warning flags in his head. His shoulders slouched and the tell tale sounds of a foot sliding back across rock told of him taking a stance under the cloak.

The teeth, her many eyes, everything about her told him that she would indeed be competition should she set her eyes on the same goal as him but this did not seem to be the case here. If she was a predator on the hunt then she would not move with such restraint and indignity. The day for hunting quickly turned to a day of study as he held his ready stance but kept the daggers sheathed beneath the cloak.

"A predator is competition. The stronger you are, the more freedom you have against others." He speaks plainly, like reciting an age old truth that had been engrained into his mind and body since his birth. Although her physical traits told him she was a predator there was something off about this one.

"You speak of predators, but you don't act like one. If you did we would have already fought, and you would be beaten. Then I would either kill you to silence you or make you leave, then you would either plot to kill me or run away to some other hunting ground, such is the way of things." Yshvolds head moves slowly as he inspects the body of this spider-like being, newly established caution giving him cause to investigate slowly as to not let down his guard.

Then it hit him. He is living in polite society, those natural occurrences that he was used too are not the norm here and he should put his training to use. Perhaps he could do this and acquire information at the same time. A different type of training from what he had intended, but training none-the-less.

He relaxes his shoulders but keeps his hidden feet apart, ready to move, as he stands a bit straighter. Hands still firmly attached to the grip of his daggers but out of sight of this stranger.

"I apologize, I forget where I am sometimes. May I ask your name?" Yshvold tries to come off as sincere in his greeting but the forced nature of his voice makes it sound awkward and disjointed, giving away that his guard is still up.

[Nnerka]

Kill her? Him? “How adorable.” The shift of his body, movements meant to be small just a tad too big to go unnoticed, only seemed to add to that. She chuckled, low and brimming with amusement. “One day, you might be able to kill me. But that day is not today.” There was a more musical note to her voice as she spoke those last words.

“And if all predators acted the same way, the world would be filled with a lot more prey.” His words sounded as though, partly, he’d read them off the pages of a book. But his shift in stance, the guard in his voice; that spoke more of experience. Readiness to choose between fight or flight. Interesting. Children, from her experience, weren’t often so bright, but had a sort of intuition about things. Only when it seemed to matter least, but still.

But he was still on his guard, even as he shifted to some form of decorum fitting for the spheres of civilization. A wrinkle of her nose, a narrowing of eyes. “You’ve practically just threatened me and you think an apology — one not heartfelt, at that! — is going to win me over, little one?” She stood up a little more, hand still resting on the wall. “I may not be so steady, but I am still very much a predator, sweetling.”

A smile not wide enough to flash mandible, but teeth still on display. A menacing moment as the seams of her mouth split, the maw of a creature revealed beneath sandy skin. And then she shut her mouth and the moment passed with another giggle. “Fortunately, there are ‘laws’ that must be abided by in the city, so I won’t be eating you for your indiscretion against me, but you will need to make it up to me somehow, right?”

“You may call me Nnerka, little one.” She tipped her head to the side, considering. “This is the part where you give me your name and ask how you could ever get me to forgive you.” She blinked owlishly, lips poked out in a pout. “Because if you don’t, I fear you may find yourself...caught.”

[Yshvold]

Apologize? He wasn't sure why he should be apologizing for anything and he wasn't sure what she meant by threat, everything he said was simply the truth by his own standards. Set back after set back gave tell to his experience in social situations, perhaps lying about others superiority over him would be better in the future?

"I am not sure as to why I should apologize, you scared my food away." First Yshvold held a tone of frustration but paused. "Was I threatening you? Hmm..." Yshvold would like to avoid some sort of needless confrontation with a stranger while so close to others, and potentially armed guards, and looked upon her alien face then thought of something. The laws of this city continue to confound him. Did he commit some sort of crime in his explanation? How can anyone live under the conditions that mere words can elicit imprisonment? This is absurd.

Words would not be enough here, he thinks, and would have to give a show of good faith to this Nnerka. Something that she could have as a sign of good will and sincerity. Yshvold takes his hood down to show his pure white hair with a crown of gray horns and hints of pale white skin, marking him as one of the Lysanrin, but keeps his mask on to secure at least some of his identity.

"I am called Yshvold. Will you accept knowledge of what I am as an apology? It is a secret I would rather not be known, so don't tell others." Yshvold brushes his hair back to try and keep it in place as it unravels and tries to fall down to the side of his mask in a mess.

"If not then I won't mind something else." His voice comes out with less force now and a bit of ease from the initial tension. "Within reason." This part said with emphasis.

[Nnerka]

“You’re not very bright, are you?” While it may have sounded like a question, it was meant more like a statement. A not-so-profound realization that seemed to take half the fun of the encounter out of it. “I hope beneath that mask you’re at least cute enough to be able to get away with things.”

They may not have been in Low City — she had few reasons to be there; her hunting grounds were elsewhere, after all — but surely there were people in this part of the city that would take advantage of anyone not...aware of how things worked. She wasn’t, still, but partly out of stubborn choice and partly because she had no reason to. People tended to steer clear of angering her when she wasn’t sporting only two legs.

She blinked as the child pulled back his hood and revealed two horns. A shock of white hair atop his head. But the mask remained. Curiosity did take hold of her to know what lay beyond the smooth material atop his face, but was overshadowed by how underwhelmed she was by the sight of a Lysanrin. They were not terribly rare in Kalsazi; a bunch tolerated, really. In the wilds she’d inhabited as a child, they’d sometimes been used for labor. A transient sort, but nothing she cared about much unless they provided her with food or stepped where they shouldn’t.

Nnerka cocked a brow, sighing once more. “Yshvold, sweetling. I don’t really care what you are. Meat is meat, darling.” As simply as he had stated his point, so too did she. “Nothing earth-shattering about lysanrin, dearest. Not to me.”

A finger traced the curve of his horns, considering. “I know what you could do. You could accompany on my walk. Be my — what’s the word? — little armrest for when I tire of walking on these two legs.” It was like she’d had a stroke of genius. “How does that sound?”

[Yshvold]

How curious, he thought. While he didn't make it a habit of showing himself to the wider populace in the commons, he did find himself at the wrong end of others anger before for his appearance and use of powers. Enough to give him pause and consider his lineage a great secret he should hold dear and to share it would have to be for moments of trust and faith.

"I don't understand. You... do not hate me?" For a brief moment his stance wavers and he stands in a more comfortable position. "I've been hounded before for this and my gifts, why does it seem like those who I've met suddenly seem to tolerate others so different from them?" While he had intended to get information out of her through talking he cannot stop himself from speaking to learn the truth about living in this new world of his.

Lady Petra had given him a home but it is only now that he realizes how much she had not taught him about the greater world around him. Thinking back it did seem odd that he would be left alone by most of the bystanders around him and the sky guard would only glimpse his way from time to time. Yshvold knew he had to get his paranoia under control but now he realizes just how much fear has ran his life.

"I... would you like for me to walk with you, Miss Nnerka? I am strong so I can help you keep balance." Yshvold remembers how Lady Petra would talk to others and try to emulate it the best he can. The smooth cold breeze that would her her voice mimicked as an icy chill inviting only her to join him, but also threatening anyone else to stay away. "and... would it be safe for me to walk without my mask?"

[Nnerka]

“Hate you? As far as I know, you’ve given me no reason to.” She shrugged, brows furrowing. “Has someone told you they hate you?” The spider had heard the words before herself, but never truly cared (and usually the speaker ended up being dinner). They were inconsequential words to the likes of her and her kin, used in dying breaths and tossed over fleeing shoulders. And at that, there wasn’t enough energy to be wasted on someone that would have the audacity to think she cared what they thought about her. Perhaps others were not afford that luxury, but — such was the nature of the world.

“These things might be so because the people you met have their differences from others.” Her eyes narrowed as she pondered how best to word this. She’d not quite encountered a problem like this before. “Wherever it is you came from, was a hierarchy. Predators and prey, with you, sweetling, being prey.” She blinked. The concept of being prey herself at one point had been a harrowing experience, but one that was short-lived. Very short-lived. She would not be revisiting any time soon, or at all, preferably. “Yes, I suppose they could have been competition, but you were prey to their — Gods, Common is a bastard — stress relief? Anyways, what I mean to say is that you were prey to their unease at a situation. You were bottom rung and they simply took advantage of that. But you are not where you were before.”

She rested her hands on her knees, preparing to stand to her full height once more. Whether or not the other would return from whence he came to see people who hated him — that would be none of her business. None at all, even if some part of her were bothered by it. “If anyone harasses us for you not wearing your mask, all we need do is scare them off.” She shrugged as she stood. As if it were that simple (and usually it was). “Not too hard to do.”

[Yshvold]

"I see, then I shall do my best to be suitable." Yshvold stands beside her and places a hand on his mask.

A sense of danger and discomfort rush over his being as it barely leaves his face and he hesitates for just a second. The anxiety of being hunted for any number of reasons scars the deepest parts of his psyche as his breath stills to a stop until he pulls it away in a single jerk, and he can breath again. The dread was still there, and pushing through it would be a new trail this day, but he was as ready as he could be to welcome the real world and what it looked like without the hindered vision his mask provided.

Yshvold looks up to stare into Nnerka's eyes. His pale white skin glows as though it projected its own light in this dark alley, and the pure white hair compliments it well adding to the iridescence that is his body. However, by contrast, his eyes were a dull grey and sullen. Darkened by the shadow of the alley and a short lifetime of hardships, his icy-stare looked past her like she wasn't even there, targeting some other prey that was far beyond her. No wrinkle on his face was shown as he looked upon her like this, meaning he wasn't trying to intimidate her, and this was simply how he was.

"I believe it is right for the men of the city to offer the women company, I have seen it many times. Would you like me to accompany you for a walk, Miss Nnerka?" He offers her an arm for her to grab onto as he stows the mask away in his cloak, a dagger at his hips coming into view as he slips it away. He notices the despairing difference in size and instead offers her his hand instead. "Where would you like to go today?"