Log; ongoing

[spartan-blood.livejournal.com]

When; September 16, night
Rating; PG-13, I suppose
Characters; Leonidas spartan_blood & Vivian f_lilredridinhd
Summary; Feeling restless, Leonidas leaves the apartment to hunt, only to stumble upon a new arrival.
Log;

How long had he remained in the City? How long was he to stay in this poor excuse of an Underworld, completely devoid of any resemblance of what the Ephors said it was like? Where was the River Styx? Where was Charon, the ferryman? Where was Cerberus? There were no Elysian fields, Tartarus did not exist, and Hades refused to show his face. It was a mockery and an insult that he should be here and not with his brothers-in-arms.

But what could he do? He could do nothing, unless he wished to anger the Deities of this place, who were so manipulative that they even gave the old gods a run for their money. He could only grow more restless as the days went on, and it was only a matter of time before he left the apartment once again to seek solitude and comfort from the wilderness.

Leonidas was homesick. The absence of Greece and his beloved Sparta was becoming painful. He longed to see the fields of grain, to hear the cries of the young Spartan warriors practicing, preparing themselves for their life's work, to hear the laughter of children, and to see his Gorgo, his beloved wife, showing the women why Spartan women were stronger and better than any others. To relieve himself of this pain, he decided to hunt. He missed the food of his homeland, and there was nothing more exhilirating than the sound of spear tearing flesh.

A buck was feeding nearby. His antlers gleamed in the moonlight, and there was almost a sacred air about him. It would do for this night. The Spartan gripped his spear tighter, tensing his muscles. His aim would have to be precise. His form would have to perfect. One false move would send the beast running.

As he leaned back, ready to release the spear from his hand, a deafening "crack!" echoed throughout the forest, causing Leonidas' quarry to bolt. Cursing, the man moved through the trees, knowing that pursuit would be nearly impossible in the sheer denseness of the wilderness. It was only then that the scent of burning wood drifted through the air to him, and faintly, on the edge of his vision, he could see a light flickering amongst the trees. Someone was out here....but who?

Gripping his spear and holding his shield in front of him cautiously, the Spartan moved through the trees towards the makeshift camp.

Comments

[f-lilredridinhd.livejournal.com]

Unprepared to enter this sinister City with little resources, for she had nothing but the skin on her back and the borrowed hoodie from Arion, and being too proud to beg and not yet having come to terms with the new reality, Vivian had retreated deeper into the wilderness, abandoning the comfort of Xanadu in favor of the Wild.

In the forest, she could breathe. In the forest, Vivian had an innate sense of the world. In application, fatherly taught camp ground skills and routine blended with primal hunting instinct with a renew dire sense of urgency, distracting Vivian from less than immediate woes in order fulfill her most basic of needs: food and shelter.

Like all things in life, everything was location; strategically, Vivian had made her camp near the local water source. The thick hardy trees and foliage providing ample camouflage, and once prepared, the bent branches created a sturdy lean-to shelter. The nearby running water an invaluable tool not only provided Vivian access to fresh water, but also access thirsty prey.

She’d taken care of the nastier parts— the claws and teeth of a hungry Wolf had made quick work wounding, and incapacitating the deer, before cleaning and butchering the deer carcass-- further off to keep the predators from lurking too close to the campsite. Now the young woman sat on the downed log, besides the drying deer hides, warming her chilled skin and damp flaxen hair as she calmed to the simple task of carving the meat into manageable wedges for cooking.

Not neglecting the fire, she broke more kindling, the snap of the dry firewood echoed acutely in the stilled forest unknowingly spooking a would-be hunter’s quarry, before feeding to the hunger of the roaring flames which kept the growing darkness at bay. Satisfied with the temperature, she placed a slice of meat atop the hot stone slab warmed by a smoldering embers and piled another hot stone atop, leaving the residual heat to cook, leaving the main fire undisturbed.

It was the faint sound of disturbed gravel and scurrying wildlife resolutely that warned Vivian that was no longer alone. On to her feet she rose, and with steely eyes she pierced the darkness, keenly tracking the strangely armed man with tense apprehension. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck instinctually bristled at the mere sight of such savage weapons, which threatened to provoked a most unwanted feral response, but unwilling to abandon what was rightfully hers or needlessly attack, the young woman watched with curled fists and waited...

[spartan-blood.livejournal.com]

The light cast by the flickering flames illuminated the makeshift camp, and Leonidas' grip on his spear tightened even more when he saw the young woman. He knew well enough to not judge things by their appearance, especially here in the City.

"...Who are you?" He called out, halting in his tracks. He wasn't going to approach any closer until he knew whether this woman was friend or foe. The scent of cooking meat made his stomach want to churn with hunger, but years in the Agoge had trained him to ignore the pangs of hunger and pay attention to the issue at hand.

[f-lilredridinhd.livejournal.com]

The situation was surreal, but at that moment, Vivian was asking herself the very same question. As she observed his face and muscle tense, she automatically shifted to sideward stance, sharply reducing her curvy figure to a silhouette against the fire, making her harder to target hit and in a better position to dodge a heavy-handed volley.

Even in a strange and unfamiliar land without the creature comforts and backing of home, Vivian felt usually territorial. Perhaps because of the sudden loss or the heavier reliance on her more primal nature, Vivian had unconsciously designated this camp and food was an inch she could claim her own and it was that undeniable inch of territory she wouldn’t be compelled to surrender.

"As I’m not what your hunting for, you could say that I’m someone who doesn’t like a spear—" even as the words left her lips Vivian couldn’t believed she’d spoken them, "pointed at her."

Then an encouraging sign, an unperceivable tell even at this respectable distance, detected by the heightened senses of a tense loup garou, an opportunity which would guide her next actions. "But Vivian works just as well," the blonde’s acute body language and strong vocalizations appearing to relax slightly as she continued, "And you, who you are and why have you come to my camp?"