OPEN | Woodland Song

[itisforfeit.livejournal.com]

Who: Faramir and OPEN
What: Rangers Gonna Range
Where: The woods of Sobek Croix
When: the first days after his arrival
Notes: none so far
Warnings: He's out hunting, so, uh. Try not to look like a rabbit? :D


It is not that he is mistrustful because that is not his nature and if Boromir decided to pledge loyalty to Hellsing his heart would never allow him to doubt their integrity. Still, it is not in him to stay within the organization's walls for long, not until he has a better understanding of this place and not until he has sorted through all his thoughts and doubts and confusion. Until he can be at peace with the idea that there might be a reason for him to be here.

He mostly camps out, exploring and wandering the ranges of Sobek Croix' woods, hunting, thinking. Accepting to be here is hard. Coming to terms with the idea that he failed is hard. Not being with his Rangers any longer is hard, too, and should they not be here with him as they set out for Osgiliath together? Because that is what he assumes to be his fate. Faramir, too, must have fallen in battle. That it shall not be for him to know what is to be of Gondor and Middle Earth is probably the hardest of all. He can only try to imagine how that very feeling must have been like for his brother upon his arrival.

He is studying his CiD as well, still careful, respectful, watching the news and conversations unfold before his eyes while he sits by a small campfire in the evening, wondering how any of this is possible, getting edgier with each passing day, hungry for information. Clockwork and lightning. How does it all work? Once he is more accustomed, more at ease with his device he will set out and ask for libraries, schools, places of lore and knowledge.

For now he will keep roaming the district, collecting berries and mushrooms and testing out the new arrows made from Croix wood.

Comments

[hehaseatenthepancake]

One evening, after Faramir makes camp and darkness has just begun to settle in, there are the sounds of something moving through the woods. Whoever or whatever it is isn't very subtle about it, twigs snapping sharply underfoot and underbrush rustling.

From the sound of its footfalls, it's rather heavy, and the silhouette that can be seen approaching from the distance is very tall, very wide, and very lumbering. Every so often, there is a brief glint of light in its vicinity, never bright enough or long enough to provide any actual illumination, just enough to register that it's there before it's gone again.

[joiedeviolet.livejournal.com]

Sobek Croix is way out of Kate's way, but the farther away she is from home base, the less likely she is to run into somebody who doesn't need to know that she is skilled in archery. Anybody who knows is fine, she doesn't care. But Erik, Raven, and John are in the 'Needs to think that Kate's just a regular teen' department. She'd like to keep them there until further notice as well.

Stalked out on a low tree branch, Kate quietly eyes Faramir as she raises her bow, arrow locked and loaded. One eye on him in case of sudden movements, she tugs the bow's string firmly and carefully and releases her fingers with just a bit of finesse that comes with experience.

Just because she timed it right means the arrow enters the flickering flames of the fire far away from Faramir and exits the other side aflame, sparkling all the way in a shower of purple glitter as it slams into a nearby tree. Man, she loves these trick arrows a little too much.

[gifted-hands.livejournal.com]

At some point the sound of hoofbeats will be heard over the crackling of the fire, the sound of a horse approaching at a steady canter. Tadhg is out stretching his legs after neatly evading a man who thought to capture the friendly "animal". As if Tadhg couldn't smell the halter he concealed behind his back.

He can smell something else now, though, woodsmoke from a burning nearby. This place has few enough trees to risk any being lost to a careless blaze, so he detours to investigate. Before long he draws close enough to realize two things: that the fire is small and under control, and that he can pick out a familiar scent the smoke had covered.

He pauses among the trees, a deep grey shape among dappled shadow. A small, furry shape (http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y61/karihan/RP%20Whossits/4168405-8-week-old-chocolate-sable-ferret-kit.jpg), until now concealed by his mane, scrambles up to perch between his equine ears, chirping his own recognition of the man on the other side of the campfire. Why hello there.