The Harvest (Open for any)

[Harvast]

Time and Date:: February 4th, 1200 Weather:: Foggy

The forest had been quiet and lacking in prey that he could bring back to the ship, and those long hours he had spent seeking something other than fish had led him back to searching for the water suckers.  Harvast tromped towards the cove, dejected and exasperated, to find something he knew how to catch and was more than capable of doing so.  Fresh fish swam around beneath the surface of the water, several large ones looked more than capable of being smoked for later.  Dropping his pack a short distance away, the young man hefted his harpoon and slowly moved towards the shore.

The water was going to be more than a little cold, but his boots were more than a little waterproof.  Getting those pelts made into clothing was one of the best ideas that he could have had in his short life, and now he was once more able to put it to the test.  Carefully, he waded out into the water and waited.  Minutes passed by as he let himself become one with the water and the stone.  The fish became more and more comfortable with his presence and began to swim around at his feet.

He controlled his breathing, feeling the ebb and flow of the water as it swirled about.  One of the stripped fish came within range and he couldn't help but grow a grin on his face.  With a practiced flick of his hand, the harpoon impaled and held fast to the large fish.  Smiling as he drew the wriggling fish from the water, silently patting his own back.  He still had the touch.

Fifteen minutes later, he had four fish and collected a couple of dry branches for a fire.  He wasn't wasting any time to get that fire up and going before his toes fell off.  Seal skin boots or no, that water was still colder than a Groncicle in a blizzard.

[Hush Ironhide]

She didn't usually wander past the village borders, but when she did she tended to do it with aplomb and get really miserably lost. This didn't bother her much, at least not as much as it could, and some would argue that it should bother her - but comfortingly (or maybe not) there was no one really waiting for her at home. She was free to distract herself with the sensation of where she was, and that was enough.

Hush contented herself curling around the trees like a fine mist, her bare footfalls making barely a sound against the ice and snow underfoot.

She glided over the wet naked earth and twirled around trees where she found it fitting, and didn't spare much thought for the world outside her head until it gave her something to think about - fire. She stopped in mid-twirl, her pale eyes going wide as she let out a breath she hadn't even known she was holding and went terribly still like a deer catching sight of a predator for the first time.
Her feet moved before she could compell them not to, and soon she was there. Soon, she was moving again. Peeking out of the treeline like some ethereal creature from the fog, her soft features and short stature seemed horribly out of place along with the simple cloak that had settled around her figure and was really at least two sizes too big. A nervous hand raised to a fist at her chest, pulling on the fabric as if that would give her support.

"H- hello," she called out hesitantly, eyes wide with fear and voice shaking, shrinking back even as her soft and barely audible voice kept going. "Um, sir?"
With a squeak of alarm before the older man could actually look up at her, she ducked behind a tree startled by her own audacity. She peeked out from behind it, her pale thin fingers gripping onto the bark with white-knuckled determination.
"Y- your fire looks very nice..." There, now she had a face that was still deciding what to make of itself as more hesitant words that sounded like one giant jumbled word tumbled out of her and caused her hands to fly to her mouth in short order.

Oops.

This was a stranger. He could kill her, probably... and though her knees shook, she wasn't afraid enough to run. Perhaps it was because of the awe that his unfamiliar face brought, or because of the enticing fire that was so close and seemed so far away - but there was something other than garden variety fear that kept her there so obstinately and inexplicably.

[Harvast]

The squeak of a voice brought his head up and his brow down.  He listened for a long moment, but didn't hear anything at first.  The fog had rolled in a touch thicker as he sat there and looked around.  Voices?  No, couldn't be.  He hadn't been on land for more than a month and he was hearing the wee folk already?  Good grief.

Wait, there it was again.  His eyes tracked slowly towards the sound and his brows raised.  A smile split his face as he got a small peek at her, "Well, it is a might fine fire.  Please, ya little fairy, come on over and let me get a look at you."  His smile was kind and his demeanor as warm as the fire.  He looked down to make sure the harpoon was resting to the side and she could see his sword off to the side, well out of reach, embedded into the top of a truck, still sticky with fish blood and guts.

Hanging above the fire on spits were strips of fish, the scent was spreading to the rest of the cove slowly, mingling with the fog.  The younger man tried to keep his shoulders relaxed, trying to appear smaller than he was, not wishing to spook her off.  "What brings you around these parts?" A laugh escaped him as he spotted her feet, "Did you lose your shoes?"

[Hush Ironhide]

She knew how to pay attention every now and then, and that was exactly what she was doing as the strange man talked. She almost seemed to look more past him then at him, giving a jolt of a jump when he put the harpoon down. Her shoulders fell, releasing tension she hadn't known she'd been holding there with a relieved puff of breath. She wasn't quick to come over, however - wary, hesitant, ever the more like a deer.

Hush pointedly looked down at her naked toes and gave them a wiggle, looking back up at the man with an expression that went from receptively blank to a warm and slightly guarded little smile that started in her eyes and warmed her cheeks.
"I um... lost them intentionally." She informed him gently, with just a hint of conspiratory fun in a whisper that had her leaning a little bit closer, her hands tucked behind her back. Her body and head seemed to travel before the rest of her did, her feet tottering after her musically as she regarded the stranger up close.

She stopped, but not before she had gotten what might socially be considered too close, hovering much like a hummingbird only a mere few foot or so away, tilting her head to one side and up to meet his eyes. She shifted her weight from her toes to her heels, finally deciding to stand still in front of him while childlike mirth and a sad sort of caution warred for her attention.

"What do you like about your shoes?" There was no edge or demand to the question, merely open curiousity as she watched his face, gesturing loosely towards his seal skin boots with a foot.

Her watching wasn't without movement, either. Fluidly and as easily as breathing her doll-like little hands reached up towards it almost instinctively - her fingers tracing the outline of his blue tattoo. "Scruffy." She noted absently before suddenly pulling back as though shocked into herself, nearly stumbling backwards with wide eyes and a muffled apology as she looked back down to her toes which she kept very still. "S- so sorry! V- very tall Scruffy." She amended desperately, looking up with raised and stiff shoulders but holding her ground nonetheless.

Her little heart beat like a rabbit's. It was a wonder he couldn't hear it, too.

[Harvast]

He watched her approach, as slowly and painfully as it was, and worked hard to keep himself from laughing at the way she was moving.  His eyes glittered with mirth as his eyes followed her, seeing how she was concerned he might hurt her.  The smile never left his face as he watched the small child finally stood close enough to hear.  "Lost them?  Well, I hope your toes aren't going to fall off from the cold.  If you wish, please, warm them by the fire." 

"Well,"  he started after leaning away as she was right in his face, he didn't seem to mind though, "They keep me warm when I get wet.  They're seal skin, so they're somewhat water proofed."  He eyed her for a moment, the smile never leaving his face before she reached up and touched his scruff, surprise written on his face.  "Yes, I haven't shaved for a short time, bu-"  He fell silent as she stumbled away.  The way she was acting seemed adorable to him, but it made a roll of laughter burst from his lungs.

Slapping his knee, he couldn't help laugh more, "Don't worry!  You're fine, little fae.  You have not insulted me."  Taking a moment to catch his breath and let his sides and cheeks stop hurting, he looked at her, "They call me Harvast, little sprite.  What do they call you?"  He reached toward the fire and took a spit with some fish on it and offered it out to her, as if inviting her to join him in his meal.  He didn't seem like he was wishing ill on her, but even sitting down he may still be imposing to the smaller human.

[Hush Ironhide]

Even with her rabbit's heart thrumming so loudly in her ears, she recognised that this stranger was less harmful and more helpful. The conclusion seemed to occur slowly, and the rigidity of her muscles hadn't quite melted away yet although she absently nodded along to his kind words and warm smile.

Had he asked her to introduce herself?
"... Hush." She responded quickly, militantly, hesitantly, so many feelings trapped in a simple phrase to the request, taking her very small hand and balling it into a fist that she used to pound the center of her chest in a hollow imitation of bigger and stronger Vikings that she was not and never would be.
A little bit delayed, his affirmation to warm herself by the fire seemed to occur to her and one could almost physically see the thought hitting her as her eyes went wide and another meep of a sound was uttered by her as she stumbled unceremoniously forward. Somehow she was retaining the appearance of elegance even as she more or less crumpled into a crouch in front of the heat and pulled her furred cloak tighter around herself, shooting a glance over her small shoulder at Harvast.

"You're a nice Scruffy, but that's not your name is it?" She drawled this in a dreamy and thoughtful tone, her little toes wiggling absently as she looked over his face and the warm expressions she seemed to be perpetually looking up to. "Harvast?" His name was a question more than a statement. "Is that what you like to be called?" Hesitantly, a similar warmth started to warm her own eyes as her lips quirked up slightly to one side as she tilted her head and raised her brows, rocking back onto her heels and then her bottom with the near silent crunch of snow.

She held out her hands towards the fish, slowly letting herself fall into comfort.

[Harvast]

He listened, truly listened, to her speak her name, and his eyes widened as she thumped her chest, his smile widening.  "Well then, the name suits you.  Or do you prefer another name?"  His eyes glittered with mirth as he watched her then crouch.  He seemed willing to let her take her time and find her own here by the fire.  He had barely made a movement this entire time, as if he was used to being rooted to one place for hours on end.

"Well thank you, little Fae," He grinned as she thought for a long moment, "Yes, it was the name my parents gave me eighteen years ago.  Though if you wish, I do not mind taking the name Scruffy, if that is what you wish to call me."  He was content to see her grow used to his presence, Thor knows that he hadn't gotten the chance to be around people much with his travels, but here around the fire he could relax.  He could be himself.

With the fish in her grasp, he gave a slight nod, "I hope you find it appetizing.  Sadly, I left most of my spices on my ship.  Maybe I will remember to bring them next time.  I was all prepared to catch a deer, not fish." A soft rumble of a chuckle escaped his chest as he turned a bit more towards the fire and pulled up a spit of fish for himself.  He took his time, remembering his manners from when his mother had raised him properly.  "What brings you all this way from the village, Hush?"

[Hush Ironhide]

Having never really been called by another name, she could only tilt her head a little further to the side with a soft and thoughtful hum. "Hush is okay, but so is anything else probably."
She agreed with herself on this, giving an affirming nod, taking in his stillness as a comfort as she spun the fish between her fingers as she listened to him - what had been a blank canvas of open thought bloomed into color as she spoke the nickname she'd christined him with. "Scruffy." It was barely above a whisper, but it was warm with a smile that had started in her eyes.

Catching herself in her open expression, her shoulders gave a little jolt and her pale pixie-like face promptly went full red in color.

"Um... That is unless you prefer - if you'd like I can -" She started to stumble over her words more, twirling the fish faster between her fingers faster as she cobbled together a way to finish her question. "Both, I can call you both. I- if that's okay."
She looked down at the fish like it was the most interesting thing in the world, and primptly bit into it while he talked about spices, barely chewing before swallowing and looking up at him with conviction.

"It's good!" She wasn't loud, indeed her voice was at the same barely above a whisper sort of timbre it always was - but she was insistent - her brows collapsing over her forehead in determination that he understood that it was just fine. Just to illustrate her point, she took another bite, chewing it this time.

Then he asked his question. There was a subtle shift in the way she listlessly shifted her weight and a little bit of the light went out of her eyes, her eyes trailing over to the trees almost apologetically.
"Outside is my friend." The village isn't. She didn't feel pressed to say more, though she did look up at him with yet another question. "It's your friend, too, isn't it?"

[Harvast]

"Do you mind if I call you Fae?  You look like one as the tales go from my homeland."  Turning his attention back to the fire, poking it with a stick just before taking another log and tossing it onto the fire.  A shower of sparks rained upward into the air much like butterflies taking to wing.  "Scruffy is fine with me, its nice to have something to be referred to by people."

He looked down at her with a smile as she took a few bites of it, he looked quite happy with how she was reacting to it.  "At least my cooking is edible by anyone other than me.  I guess I've forgotten how nice it is to cook for someone else."  Her expression made him laugh, his shoulders rotating as she made a show of her eating.

Her question made his brows raise before his gaze took on a dreamy look.  His smile had slowly disappeared for a long moment, his eyes moving as if he were listening.  "The outside," he began, his smile returning brilliantly, "is much like my mother.  In my homeland, they say she is breathing, with every wave that finds the shores.  Her soul," his hand raised slowly, following the path of the ashes and smoke rising, "rises in the evening, to open Twilight's Door."

His gaze followed up to the blue sky, "Her eyes, they're the stars in heaven.  Watching over us, her children, all the while."  His hand came down and rested against his chest as he closed his eyes.  He looked like he was finishing a prayer as he said, "And her heart resides in my homeland, deep within the Emerald Isle."  He took in a deep breath and then let it out slowly, "She gives, and she takes.  From her we are born, and into her embrace we shall go once we die."  His head tipped from side to side, rolling as if the words that he spoke took any stress from his body.

[Hush Ironhide]

Would Hush take the nickname? She didn't need so much as a moment to think about it.

"Mmm!" Was Hush's enthusiastic, wordless reply - the gutteral, gleeful sound was musical in spite of her mouthful of fish and slightly bulging cheeks.

She watched the sparks flare quite fearlessly, and with some measure of reserved wonder - she made no move to move closer or touch it, though she was spellbound in a way that left her still just long enough that she had to pause to remember Scruffy's question to her.

Her knees gave a few bounding bobs of affirmation - as somewhere under the oversized cloak of cloth and fur she'd managed to cross her legs - wonder and curiousity bringing her quiet voice alight (but only after she had swallowed and wiped her mouth).
"What sort of creatures are they? I like creatures." She tilted her head lightly to the other side, opposite of the one she had been canting it to, and was abruptly treated to what seemed like poetry to her.

She was even more still, not so much as taking a breath - she wasn't arrested by fear, but by reverance as he spun words like she'd never heard them before. They resonated, though the full meaning of them seemed to be something to consider quite seriously to her young mind. After she thought she'd digested them fully, her knees gave another little bob, and she lowered the speared fish from her torso to give the man more of her attention. "Are you... A bard?" She certainly seemed impressed, the occupation whispered like a best kept secret.

[Harvast]

He chuckled as he came to rest back on an arm, "Well, little Fae.  There are many capracious creatures where I am from.  We call them Fairy, or Fae, as their names for themselves are often long and difficult to speak."  He chuckled, his eyes reading the child's interest, "One such creature are trolls.  Giant folk whom are known to tower over the trees of our forests.  Simple in mind, but great in brawn, capable of throwing horse, cart, man with but a shrug of their massive shoulders."  His hands came back up and he began to make motions in order to help with the illustration.

"Another, the Banshee, is a terror to behold.  Ghostly beings who move about on foggy nights, their faces twisted in grimaces of pain.  It is said that they are servants of Morrigan, the goddess of death.  Their screams are believed to be heralds of oncoming death by those who are unfortunate enough to hear them." His fingers splayed out and he leaned towards her slowly, his fingers bending to resemble claws.

"Then you have the wee folk, pixies, brownies, and gnomes," his face returned to one of mirth and kindness, "these beings are known to be playful and helpful when offered a little bit of cream in a wooden bowl.  I have heard tales of them helping poor families in times of need, helping them rise above their former stations to become something magnificent."  He patted his chest with his balled fist.  "There are many kinds of fae, just as there are many kinds of dragons in our world."

His brows rose and he laughed, "Oh no, I am no bard.  In my land, it is required that you have special training.  Though I once applied as a child, I was never permitted into the colleges of my homeland.  Though, now I would have to wonder what they would say if they heard my tales and songs now." His hand came up to scratch at his beard as he picked up another piece of fish to eat.

[Hush Ironhide]

The trolls sounded like many of the people in her village, and the discription made her smile at the private joke of the thought - a quiet, tinkling giggle escaping her and stopping with a hiccuping gasp when he explained the banshee. She shrunk back in response to his clawed fingers, withdrawing backwards in a clearly exaggerated manner with her fingers splayed and eyes wide (the fish she'd been enjoying so left to fall to her lap as though it had never existed at all)... she was listening to every word with interest, never daring to interrupt.

"I wish I had some cream," She said quietly when he was done, now rocking onto her knees and crossing her arms over them. "And a dragon." She rocked from the heel of her bare feet to the ball several times, thinking over all he'd said before coming to the sort of conclusion that she so often did with a clap of her tiny hands to express her eureka moment without words. "A cream dragon."

Yes, that would be best, wouldn't it? Her flights of fantasy and possible explanation were defeated by her greater curiousity - the urge to ask questions that never seemed to leave her be.

"Oh." When he explained that he wasn't a bard, she didn't seem particularly disappointed in spite of the reverence which she'd initially whispered the idea. "What are you then? Other than a Scruffy." She added this stipulation cautiously, raising up one hand with a wagging finger as if to warn him of cheating - and using the same finger to dare to poke him on the nose, her eyes alight with the laughter they shared.

Oh, she was getting so comfortable with him so quickly.

[Harvast]

He smiled, seeing her enraptured by the tale he had spun.  When she spoke of creme, he thought for a long moment, wondering if he had any still on the ship.  The dragon portion made him flinch, but when she combined the two, he quirked a brow, "Is that a dragon that is creme colored, or a dragon made out of creme?" He couldn't help but grin at the thought, a very strange little girl, but she was welcome company.  It wasn't that long ago that he was her age.

He leaned away, as if he were scared of said finger that she raised in a warning fashion, "Well, I know that I am a person, that is for sure, though as for what," he thought on it for a long moment, "I am a sailor, a trader, a storyteller, and a fisher.  I have worn many mantles in the past, and will wear many mantles in the future.  What of you, little Fae?"  He cocked a brow and grinned at her, wagging his own finger at her.

The fire crackled and sparked before the log pile fell in a little, the plume of sparks caught his attention as he picked up another log and set it into the flames to burn.  Plucking up his fish once more, he finished it off and took the other fillets away so that they wouldn't burn.