A Night in the Woods (for Runa)

[westfallcorndog]

(( Continuation of a plot begun in Discord. Harrowheart has clawed his way out of the Shadowlands and into Earth, where he finds the Durants in dire straits. As knights and witches are sometimes known to do, he and Runa embark on a quest to find the dragon. But first? A bit of downtime after all the chaos. ))

Leads are turning up dry. They've been on the road for days, and despite all the ground they've covered every turn feels more fruitless than the last. Magical leads are far apart in this world of the Durants, and harder now to come by than they'd been before. They must take caution around humans as much as they would any rogue dragon. The problem with that, unfortunately, is that there are decidedly more humans in Germany than there are dragons. Dragon. Isidor.

 

The mundane world is a challenge all its own. The burden of nearly everything is foisted on Runa: buying food, buying gas, finding rooms, *driving. It gets cramped in that car quickly, especially in the company of a large, foggy-faced corpse with a penchant for cigarette-smoking. At least he's managed to find more casual clothes -- a large sweater, long trousers, and a billed hat -- to help him nearly blend in... And take up a smidge less space.

 

As the shadows grow long Harrowheart proposes camping out. Better than a hotel, he reckons. Roomier, at least. Fresher. Cheaper. Their money might be plentiful, but it is finite.

 

He suggests they pull over near a creek and follow it through a wooded area, half pine and half budding deciduous. The creek is shallow, but the water runs swiftly over the moss-covered rocks at its banks. A pleasant sound, a natural whisper so vastly different than rushing highway wind and radio banter. 

 

The sun is at the horizon when they've finally set up camp. Harrowheart tasks Runa with building a fire while he begins to set their goods on the leaf-strewn ground. 

 

The silence of the forest and false privacy of having her at his back gives him the courage enough to ask a question he's never quite been brave enough for.

 

"Runa? Would you... Tell me about your mother?"

Comments

[volurofthehearth]

Harrowheart isn't the only one glad of the suggestion to do a bit of camping. There's something comforting about feeling lost in the countryside. After being attacked so often in buildings that had previously been considered bastions of strong walled rooms, the anonymity of being two creatures among many in a forest feels like a vast improvement.

The only problem is that when it comes to getting a fire going Runa struggles a bit. It turns out that being around mages with elemental means she's gotten a bit rusty at starting and maintaining a young fire. For the first time she wishes Isidor were with them for utterly mundane reasons.

She's so focused on trying to turn a smoulder into a flame that it takes her a minute to register what Harrowheart says. When she turns around to blink at him she can't discern the 'why' to his question at a glance. The fact that half of his expression is reduced to a blank skull doesn't help. So Runa turns back to continue trying to get her fire going while she decides on what to say.

"Um... You've met my sisters, right? Everyone says Carita looks exactly like my mother when she was young." This time when she pauses it's not to take a break, but to let a pang of homesickness pass. She hopes her family is alright. That they know she's safe...

"She did everything. Gardening, cooking, sewing... Organised events for neighbours and got involved in the community." As the memories start to fill her thoughts she finds herself slowing, smiling slightly. "She always remembered people, what was important to them, what they were dealing with. We had a few older neighbours, and she always found time to visit them. While keeping a house tidy and taking care of all of us? I don't know how she did it."

[westfallcorndog]

When Runa begins to speak Harrowheart glances over his shoulder, mindful of the way he turns, and shares a small smile with her. Turned as he is, a person might imagine he were still whole.

"She sounds like... The sorta woman you've been tryin' to be."

Glancing down, he sees that she's still poking at that flame. In his usual fashion he is struck with an idea that most likely isn't bright, but may, technically, work. He fishes out his lighter from his back pocket and tosses it her way.

"There's a little bit of oil in there. Try openin' it up and pourin' it on the fire."

With that he turns away and begins untying Runa's bedroll. He only keeps his eye off her for a few seconds before he feels the need to watch her over his shoulder. Just in case.

When the silence grows too much for him, he fills it.

"What was her name? And did she have magic? Magic like yours?"

[volurofthehearth]

There's a cheekiness in the smile she shares with him. "Who doesn't want to be the best?"

The family she married into are certainly focused on that goal, though their idea of the best kind of person is drastically different from hers. That's the power of a good role model, she supposes.

Runa looks a little sheepish when she accepts the lighter. It's not that she couldn't use it, but using flint and steel means not relying on fuel. She has no idea how long they're going to be out searching for Isidor and she knew she'd need to practice. It looks like she's going to need more practice than she thought. Rather than open the lighter, she's simply more careful about what she lights. Eventually getting a small flame going and watching it intently.

It takes her a second to register Harrowheart's questions and another moment of hesitation to answer. Her mother died so long ago, and everyone just calls her 'your mother', so that it actually takes her a bit to recall her name. She has to smother some guilt at needing to remember something that should be so basic.

"Synnöve," she says quietly. "She had magic just like me. Our magic.. it's not like the Durants. I mean, it helps, to have a history of magic in the family. But it's more important to have good teachers, and knowledge passed down the family, than it is to be related." She can't help but smile. "And she was a great teacher."

[westfallcorndog]

Runa's little joke pulls a small laugh from Harrow, who stops what he's doing to share a smile with her. Then he turns himself and all of his things around so that while he works he'll be able to keep an eye on her. Distracting, perhaps, but it isn't as if they're in a hurry for him to unroll her sleeping bag or bring out a few cans and boxes of food.

When Runa says her name he repeats it in a whisper, committing it to memory -- or making the attempt.

"So," he begins, slowly and quietly, thinking even as he speaks. "Your mother had time to teach you. I always figured she'd gone away real early, but the way you talk about her... Seems you must'a been ten at least?"

There's another question simmering just beneath the surface of his words, but the act of asking feels cruel. That kind of cruelty might bring him a thrill when leveraged on someone else, but asking Runa? He doesn't want to... But he can't bear wondering any longer.

When he realizes just how long he's been staring at her he finally parts his lips and asks, "What took her?"