Monday, May 23, 2011
Keon breathes the night air deep into his lungs. There is a crispness to it that only happens in the first blush of dawn. Movement to his extreme right turns into Pike as he stretches out against the post. Pike nods in the direction of the woods. A Hell Hound moves in and out of the shadows of the treeline, nose to the ground, eyes glowing softly.
The words are spoken softly, the Wyldfae's brogue blurring his words. "One watched, mayhap more. No glamour found, so blended naturally. Who an' what..." he shrugs, barely moving his shoulders.
"No strong scents?" The slight hand motion is a negative. "Masked?" Again the slight motion. Keon frowns. "Pike, what have you found?"
"Nae much, Dark Lord. They carried something o' here ta mask their own. The trail they left is crossed o'er many times... rabbit, cat, deer. Hard to track with the recent scents. Whoe'er they are, twere still enow to nae draw mine own eye."
Keon steps to the edge of the porch, the early morning light pulls sparkles from the straight fall of his midnight dark hair. The streak of blue catches sunlight. A breeze teases a few strands across his shadowed features. A small smile touches his lips as he gently strokes them back in place. His words are nothing but the movement of his lips. *Is fada liom uaim tú ró, Mo Gealach.
Pike calls from his perch. "Where do ye wander, Lord Assassin?"
Keon stares out at the trees. "I have an errand to attend to. I know this place to be in good hands, Pike. Trooper and I will return soon."
One last look around the clearing and Keon calls the dark mists. Trooper stretches, rising from his spot in the porch's shadows. Moments later a large Hell Hound shakes he last of the mists from its scaly hide and fur. Red eyes gleaming, it nods to Pike. Trooper joins it and Keon leads the way into the tree.
Pike closes his eyes, reaching out to check over the Magicks he and Wish had danced into the trees many times over.
The scent of water fills Keon's lungs like a welcome balm. The scent of fox is also welcome. Trooper huffs as a familiar redhead waves from the deck. The mists come again, and Keon is soon standing tall, bared in all his glory to the brilliant sun. He begins to run, long loping strides taking him to the end of the pier. Without breaking stride, Keon launches himself into the air, cleaving the water effortlessly. Swimming back to the dock, Keon heaves himself out of the water. The familiar scent of dark water fills his senses.
"Hello Mer Cronigh... Have you news?"
The Crone cackles. "Ye have the nose of a Hound, Dealg Drubh. Alas, yer ghouls are nae located near water. Either they be a bit mer smart than we think, or tis naught but dumb luck. When will ye bring ta wee one to swim?"
He nods, lost in thought. "Soon. I promise. The weather is warming..."
She grins at him, sharp teeth bared in a broad smile. "I like yer young friend. The maids keep trying to get him to come swim, but he will nae. Assure him that they will nae keep him. They know he is one of yer guardians." She sighs. "Watch him... he has an air of melancholly. Playing with the maids may raise his spirits."
Keon nods. "Ron has had several hard blows. Tell the mermaids to be kind."
Rising from the planks, Keon bows to Fea and strides to the boat. Ron tosses him a towel as his feet hit the deck. Keon heads inside, motioning for Ron to join him.