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WHO: Gavin, Zevran and Bruce
WHAT: Zevran, Bruce and Gavin take a supply run back to the mire.
WHEN: Nowish
WHERE: On the road to the Fallow Mire
NOTES: Ridiculousness? probably ridiculousness.

Supply runs were never the most fun. The baggage train inevitably meant that the pace was not even a third of what Gavin would keep on his own, even though they were mounted, and they had to spend a good deal of their time making sure the animals carrying the supplies didn't somehow wander off. Usually it bored Gavin to absolute tears until he just sort of started making up reasons to go scouting ahead.

This time, though, there were only the three of them - so he really couldn't afford to take his eye off the bags - and the other two happened to be friends, so it wasn't nearly as bad a journey as it could have been otherwise. That didn't stop Gavin from being as restless as all hell, from being unable to sit in his saddle or to keep him from singing (badly) to himself to just past the time, but it helped.

It would take two days, to march down there, leaving just after dawn on the first day, camping just after nightfall, and leaving at dawn again. That would see them getting in to the camp in the Fallow Mire just a few hours after dusk.

When they camped for the night, Gavin was all too happily to be doing anything other than riding a damned horse, so set up the tent all too happily and then dragged a bunch of dry wood back for the fire.

"We should probably take some of this wood with us - there's so little dry stuff in the Mire."

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Zevran flipped the dagger around in his hand to hold the tip, deigning to tilt it in a fluid, controlled gesture to tap Bruce's arm as he passed by. "Do not forget the waterskins."

Cool and civil as could possibly be. He even smiled.

It was not, if either of them could note, an unpleasant smile. If anything it was friendly.

"It would be terrible if we became ill from thirst before we walk to our waterlogged graves."

Bruce paused a little at the tap, looking down to Zevran as he asked for the waterskins. The smile that the elf gave, as friendly as it was, didn't seem--well. It was easy enough to sense how false it was.

There was another pause, but eventually Bruce gave a nod to acknowledge Zevran's words, and he continued his way back to the tent to get the needed items.

Gavin blinked, looking over at them - it was impossible not to notice that there was something... well, weird, going on, but Creators help him if he had any idea what it was. He pushed the feeling down. They were just being friendly. Sort of. Maybe they didn't know each other well?

He finished the fire and lit it, standing back as the flames finally took, and letting his shoulders relax. "There. Much better. At least we'll be warm on our way to waterlogged graves."

Nothing. No smirk, no wince, no glare. Nothing. What manner of man was Bruce to take such insolence in stride? Perhaps he should not pick or poke or prod quite so much but Bruce had revealed himself to be a puzzle. And if there was one thing Zevran could not stand it was someone being more mysterious and strange than him.

It was his role in the tale, no one else's.

"Warm and quite cozy- for we only have the one tent, yes?"

Bruce returned quickly enough with the rations as well as the waterskins that Zevran asked for, and wordlessly passed it around to both of them before he went and settled back down in a spot away from the two of them, pointedly keeping his personal spare. As much as they were both good people, Bruce didn't exactly feel comfortable being physically close to either of them.

Not that it was their fault - Bruce was well aware that the problem lay with him alone.

"We should probably rotate watches just to ensure that nothing happens," he spoke up. "I can take first watch so you two can rest." Since they were the ones who did the fighting and actual physical stuff, they needed the rest more than he did. And he had managed with far less, anyway, so he would be alright.

"Just the one," Gavin agreed with a nod, not thinking about puzzles or mysteries so much as having a feeling that something was off and not being able to put his finger on it.

When Bruce joined them and so clearly sat so far away, Gavin raised an eyebow. Usually Bruce didn't mind his company... Was it an elf thing? Or Zevran? He couldn't help the slight droop to his ears, though when he spoke the tone was light and easy.

"I'll take second watch," he agreed with a nod. "If we do three hours each that should let the others get decent rest."

"I suppose that leaves the dawn watch for me, how kind." Not he drooping ears. Wonderful. Zevran sighed faintly, tipping over to bump his shoulder against Gavin's. This strangeness did not need to twist with him so; but he should have expected for the young elf to be sensitive to such things.

Though this arrangement would leave he and Bruce in a tent alone for three hours. probably not what the Surgeon intended.

"At least it has not become so wet and miserable just yet."

Bruce nodded without a word, although inside he did have some turmoil about having to be alone with Zevran for three hours; considering how things went down the last time they spoke it was clear that they weren't exactly on friendly terms. Bruce wasn't looking for conflict, but he couldn't be sure if Zevran would avoid it either. So far things had been okay, but...

He took in a breath and stopped his thoughts before they went off too far. Just three hours. Three little hours, almost nothing at all. He could do it. Three hours and it would be over and then they could all move on without needing to look back.

He really should have thought this through.

The shoulder bump distracted him enough that his ears resumed their proper, upright status, and he bumped softly back. "I can take morning watch if you'd rather," He teased Zevran. "I wouldn't want to disturb your beauty sleep."

He leaned over to poke a stick into the fire. "The horses should be okay - I gave them their oat bags already, though we might want to check the Grey later. There's something off with his front leg."

"No need. I am accustomed to being awake early as it is; keeping an eye out for the camp would be no trouble." It'd give him an excuse to go over his equipment and notes from the last time he had been in the mire. Odds are the bog has changed some, as it was want to do, but knowing where not to get lost was to their mutual benefit.

"Was he favoring it, or did it seem stiff?" A lamed horse wasn't something they could treat easily out here.

The mention of the horse and its troubled leg was at least enough to pull Bruce out from his thoughts, although he said nothing as he glanced between the two of them, remaining silent as the two elves talked between each other. Bruce supposed he could look at the horse, but truthfully he didn't have a lot of experience with animals - on the run he made it a point to not ride on many animals, since they would leave trails that the Templars would be able to follow.

In this instance, he was more than willing to let someone with better experience take the lead - in this case, either Gavin or Zevran. They probably rode more horses than Bruce himself ever would.

"Think he must have stepped on something, but I couldn't get it out with the hoof pick," Gavin said, with a slight shrug. "Just saw him stumble on it a couple of times. A rock, maybe."

He wasn't the most knowledgeable about horses, but he'd been around them enough to be able to tell some things.

"I shall take a look after dinner- we should have light enough yet. I do not think I saw him throw a shoe." He'd spent many, many nights tending to horses in Antiva between jobs; it is as good a cover as any and playing the sultry stable elf was one of his better ploys with the nobility.

At least one of them could do it. Again Bruce gave a wordless nod, although after a moment's pause he did speak up, mostly for good measure. "If you need help, feel free to ask. I'll do whatever I can."

There. At least--well. At least there was something, he supposed.

Gavin looked over at Bruce - sitting far enough away to make the conversation somewhat unnatural, and gave him a bemused look. "Ah - sure, Bruce. We'll let you know."

He felt almost bad, for the segregated party, but... had to remind himself that Bruce had done the segregation. It wasn't surprising, given the races involved, but it was a little sad. He took a breath and then forced a wider smile. "Well, I'm sure he'll be fine. Let's eat, I'm starving."

"I might need someone to sooth him. Horses are fussy when their feet are being minded and you are such a calming influence. I would appreciate the help." Clearly someone was going to have to be the socially competent person. Zevran did not quite despair that it fell to him- it often did- but this was a little strange even for a human that was uncomfortable with elves.

Or was it uncomfortable with him in particular.

He could not say. He did, however, take his ration and unbind the hard bread and dried meat. Ah. Fereldan fare. How he had not missed it.

Once more there was another nod, and after that Bruce didn't say anything more since there wasn't a need to. It wasn't as if he found their presence bad or anything like that - Bruce just really wasn't one for talking, at the end of it all. The fact that he was in an awkward position with Zevran didn't make it better either.

So rather than speak again and probably make things worse Bruce just focused on eating his rations once he opened them up. Hard bread and dried meat - nowhere like what he had been eating at Skyhold, but truthfully anything he had at Skyhold was a large step up from what he had been used to. This, at least, wasn't that much of a difference.

Gavin had absolutely no idea how things had gotten so awkward, so quickly, but he knew he didn't like it. He looked at his own rations but didn't unpack them. Instead, he said:

"Shall I tell you you both a story to keep us amused? I'm not sure I've told either of you about that time that I met a man who lived in a cave and thought he was a prophet..."

"Oh, this should be good. Go ahead." A little story with dinner could be amusing enough- and it'd take his mind off of how terribly strange Bruce had become.

Bruce makes a gesture with his hand as well, wordlessly asking for Gavin to start telling his story. It sounded interesting enough, and anything was probably better than silence right now, especially since Bruce was well aware that said silence was because of him.

"Well, all started after I got washed ashore fleeing from the cult that worshipped Andraste's supposed shoe," He started, before taking a bite of his rations. He happily fell into story time, telling them about since how he was nearly freezing to death, he found one of the caves on the storm coast - left it because it was full of spiders - and found another that was empty save for a single man and a corpse, who he was lecturing to at length about Andraste. As one person could hardly be counted as a cult, and as he was very, very cold, wet and tired, he decided that it was relatively safe.

"And then he started crying 'It has been foreseen! It has been foreseen!' and fighting me as I tried to drag him out of the water, but when he escaped he accidentally knocked himself out by slipping on a rock. So I dragged him back up out of the river. The bear didn't bother us after that - probably because it was eating all our supplies. But he was absolutely miserable company all the way to the village, from there," Gavin finished his story a few minutes later, and then gave a whistful sigh. "It was a pretty nice village, really - they were all very kind. Especially for people that had half their town destroyed by a monster."

Zevran, despite himself, began laughing- the tale was amusing enough and he himself has had some strange experiences with cultists- but that last part? That does prick his interest, ears flicking up.

"A monster? Like a particularly ravenous bear or a wyvern of some sort?"

Bruce listen to Gavin's story, thinking nothing of it at all up until the part about the monster--where then he froze up entirely. He could be thinking too much, perhaps, but his gut was telling him otherwise and from experience his gut was usually right. But--no. He really hoped that this wasn't going where it was.

Bruce forces himself take a slow breath through his nose, trying to calm down his rapidly rising heartbeat. Even if it was what he thought it was it was just a story. A story and nothing more.

Gavin shook his head, taking absolutely no notice of Bruce as Zevran asked him a question.

"A bear? No, it was no bear. Larger than a bear, far larger, and it glowed - a bright, malevolent green." He was in story mode, to his tone was much different than he'd use normally, and he drew his hands over the fire to warm them.

"At least - that is what they told me. I did not see the creature, I only witnessed its wake. A village half destroyed by what seemed to be a being of pure rage - but it was no demon. It was hard as stone - no arrow nor sword would pierce it, and it howled as it crushed their houses, destroyed their crops. Their families. But Wyvern? No. No, this creature had no wings, but walked on two legs, like you or I. Too small for a giant, too great for a man, and with great, green hands, and skin that seemed made of raw cut gems, dancing angrily in the firelight."

"...whereabouts was this village? I have heard of a similar creature but- it was not destroying houses. It was fighting something much like itself." Though not near so green. "Protecting the people from it's foe- something of a similar size but vicious temperament."

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amygdalae - 2015-12-04 04:18 (UTC) - Expand

YOU SAW NOTHING

slipshot - 2015-12-15 13:24 (UTC) - Expand

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