"Easy, Bane," Tasha tells her and the dog seems to ease up a bit, though she's still wary.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"Sorry, she's just a bit prickly. It's just her breed. She'll warm up to you eventually."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
She studies the night sky, the alien stars. She would know them all by heart if she were back home, but here...well, not so much.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James laid out his blanket on the softest patch of grass and plants that he could find. But on second thought, figured Tasha should probably take the most comfortable spot, with her injury and all. He looked over to her and pointed down at the spot, then at her, then the spot again.
She shrugs and waves him off, throwing down her blanket and laying down.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
She rolls over, trying to get herself to sleep without Bane on watch. Tasha is pretty sure she can trust him, but after all is said and done, she doesn't really know him.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James sat quietly, leaning his back against a tree and looking around. He kept his eyes and ears open, half expecting to hear the growl of the grangor rumble behind him. It had become so much of a norm for him, that the relative peacefulness of the forest caused him discomfort. Despite his rationalizations otherwise, he found himself very much on edge, even as exhausted as he was.
He tilted his head back, and looked through the overhanging branches towards the stars. Out here, so far from civilization, the lanterns of the sky seemed to shine even more vibrantly. The moon hung in the sky as a crescent, and a few whispy clouds obscured the view of constellations here and there.
After a fair amount of time passed he became restless, and decided to stand. He carefully took light steps around the area, looking into the dark forest with idle curiosity but hyperactive suspicion.
So far, there was nothing to be heard or seen besides the chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the light breeze. A relief.
He let out a long sigh, and began to stretch his arms, much to their protest. God, everything was sore. He winced, holding his arm in place as it was stretched to the side. He counted the seconds, 27, 28, 29, 30, before releasing and stretching the other one.
Then, he heard a snap. And no, it wasn't a joint.
His eyes widened, and he turned quickly towards the source. But then it came again, from another direction. As he turned again, he went to draw his sword, but was stopped when someone came from behind him, putting him in a headlock, and grabbed his hand and pried it off the hilt of his sword.
"Tasha!" He yelled, before his neck was squeezed tighter and his voice fizzled out. He kicked and tried to fight back but soon found that his feet weren't even touching the ground anymore, as whoever it was that was gagging him lifted him up.
Suddenly, the area around them filled with people, all bearing weapons of various shape and size. They were overwhelmingly and pitifully outnumbered. He couldn't make out their faces in the darkness, but a few of them were carrying lanterns and torches, so he could make out enough to tell that there were a lot of them.
Spoiler! :
They'd probably seize tasha and bane too, but I figured I'd let you write that if you want??
Despite her best efforts, she can't seem to sleep. There is no grangor, there are no wolves, and she knows full well Mike won't backstab her, but there's still that nagging feeling that something's off.
Tasha... Bane utters a low snarl - she's caught a scent on the wind.
Hardly daring to move or breathe, she clasps her fingers around her sword and smells the air. Humans, but that's all she can tell. She's on full alert now.
"Tasha!" comes the distressed cry from the woods. She knows that voice.
"Mike!" She stands and spins, coming face-to-face with a man a few heads taller than she, and very muscular before someone grabs her from behind, wrapping their arm around her throat and squeezing.
She can hear Wolfsbane snarling and biting but right now she has to worry about getting herself free. She grabs the arm around her neck and, mustering all her strength, throws the flips the man over her and sends him flying only to land on his back, winded. Pain tears through her body from the wounds the grangor's talons left in her chest and that single moment of distraction is enough for the first man, the burly one, to grab her and slam her into the ground with his fingers around her throat.
She growls and kicks, but her efforts are futile.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"Search their things for valuables." James heard a familiar female voice command, and saw groups of them rush to search through their things. His eyes lit up with recognition, though it was not because he recognized them as a friend. Pulling at the arm around his throat, he squinted to get a look at their leader.
"Rita?" He asked, watching her head turn to him in response. She grabbed a lantern from one of her companions and held it in front of her, revealing the face of a slim but muscled woman with dark skin and piercing eyes. "You sure you meant to say that name?" She asked menacingly, approaching him. She held the lantern up to his face, and looked at him closely. A sly grin grew on her face and she tilted her head to the side.
"My gods, is that you, Phillip?" She laughed, marveling at the transformation of his appearance. "Hah hah! You look like a madman with your hair growin' out every which way! Bahahahaha!"
As her laughter rose in the forest, her henchmen joined her. James only glared at her.
"You can let him down, Mangus," She commanded, still laughing. "Give the gal some air too, but keep a hold on 'em. Just don't give us trouble." She said, eyeing James.
James felt his feet return to the ground and soon as the arm withdrew from around his neck he yanked it forward with a grunt. His hands were grabbed and held behind him, and quickly bound.
"I could use someone with your skillset right about now." She said, pointing at him with a knife. "What about your friend here?" She continued, turning around to Tasha. "How are you useful?"
"Go burn in hell," she snaps as she struggles against the behemoth of a man.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
The bigger the issue, the smaller you write. Remember that. You don’t write about the horrors of war. No. You write about a kid’s burnt socks lying on the road. You pick the smallest manageable part of the big thing, and you work off the resonance. — Richard Price
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