faderift | [closed]

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."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Gavin, you are a very fine friend. But you would make a terrible spy; your are as subtle as a mabari." He reaches up to ruffle his hair to take some of the sting from it. "I will learn in my own time, with my own ways.

Gavin chuckled, despite himself, his head tilting like a dogs as his hair was ruffled, the tips of his ears tinting red.

"Alright, alright. Well, there goes that career goal," He replied, teasing himself more than Zevran. "... But I hope it turns out to be nothing of real concern. We have enemies enough as it is."

"I do not think it is enough to make an enemy of him. But it is likely enough to remain wary." Trust no one- and trust those that are kind without cause all the less.

Gavin gave him a bemused look, before handing him back the pumice stone and then slipping off the rock and into the water - soaking himself thoroughly and then shaking himself half dry. "I'll braid your hair, if you want, when you're done," Gavin said, as if they hadn't at all just had the conversation they'd had, stepping back up onto the bank of the river, feeling a hundred percent better than he had before. If wary.

"I think I'll wander back and see if I can't shame Bruce into at least bathing once you're done."

"He will bathe so long as he is certain we shall not peek. I think he may be terribly shy." For what reason, he could not say. But it came as no surprise that he would want some space away from the knife ears.

He bound up his hair in a loose knot for the moment, giving himself room to finish scrubbing his back. "I will be out in a bit."

"Definitely peaking, then," Gavin replied with a grin.

"Take your time, I'll make sure there's a good fire going for when you get back." And with that, he slipped back off into the woods, humming to himself in the trees.

Really, it wasn't that Bruce had anything against either Zevran or Gavin - they were both good people - it was just that, well. Bruce just didn't really relish the thought of stripping himself naked in front of others.

Honestly, it was kind of a weird contradiction. He had ended up naked out in the wild several times before, though none of them had been by choice - his transformations certainly never took clothing into account. It wasn't the nakedness that bothered him so much as the thought of people seeing him being naked. There was just a string of connotations related to that which Bruce was never going to touch even with a ten foot pole.

While waiting for both elves to be done Bruce hung around the tent, doing a few chores to occupy his time and mostly just keep his own thoughts occupied. By the time Gavin was back, Bruce already had a fire going, and looked up from where he had been currently feeding some more wood to the flames.

"Oh--you're back." He blinked once after saying that, then quickly started to make a move to stand up. "Sorry, I did intend to go back--I was just distracted by several things." Bruce did feel a bit bad for lying, but it wasn't as if he could go around to admit the truth.

"It's alright. I'm done, though, and I think Zevran will be done in a minute, if you still wanted one," He said, apparently unsuspecting, but in fact - thanks to Zevran - definitely suspecting.

He didn't have his shirt back on, though, and instead walked over to the horses to grab a cloth and scrub himself down.

Bruce gave a nod in response to Gavin's words, picking up his things after that and making sure that they were all in hand.

"I'll go over and check on him, then take mine when he's done." He says, just so that Gavin is aware more than anything else. But he doesn't wait for Gavin's response to that, instantly setting off once he's said his piece, making his way over to where Zevran is so that he could clean himself off too.

By the time Bruce returns Zevran is dried and dressed, sitting next to his assortment of blades and pouches while combing out his hair. "Finished fearing for your virtue, Bruce?"

"Yes." The response is short and perhaps a little bit too curt, but its not as if anything else that Bruce says here would help him anyway. He goes to set his things down in a spot where they wouldn't get wet and then glances at Zevran once more. "And I'd like to continue keeping it too, if you wouldn't mind."

It wasn't meant to sound rude or anything, but--well. Bruce just didn't want people to be around when he undressed. It was a him thing, really.

"I am not about to take it, if that is what you're worried about." He could linger. It would be simple enough, make a point of not caring, of not being bothered; but honestly? Their mutual points have been made. It'd be an emphasis of something they both already know and thus Zevran binds his hair back and drapes his knives and leathers over his arm before heading back up to camp. "I prefer my partners to be slightly more enthusiastic if nothing else."

Bruce doesn't say anything - not that he could say anything, he supposed - and so simply lets Zevran have his way out of the area. He waits until the elf is wholly gone and he's assured that there's nobody else around then does Bruce actually start to divest himself of his clothing layer by layer.

He can feel his skin prickling with each layer that he gets out off, and at the last one he can feel the old ache coming in. He pointedly ignores it and takes off his undershirt, revealing a lean and somewhat built upper figure that could have once been admired by others. Once, because across his skin were a collection of old scars and scab marks that are decorated both front and back, with particular attention to the latter half.

There were marks that traced down the entire length of his back, jagged scars that looked like they came from weapons of some sort and a great deal more variety that never seemed to end. The most prominent scar, however, was one on his front - an old one that ran from right below his chest to before his hip, cutting down his entire stomach and leaving huge mark there.

Bruce stares down at that particular scar and runs a hand down through it, only giving himself a moment to sigh before he starts to wade through the river with the needed items in hand to start giving himself a much needed wash.

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