RP:He Shot, But She Fired
Summary: Orikahn bites off a little more than he can chew when he attempts to ambush Seraphin at the mouth of a mountain pass. The fight is heated (in more ways than one) but it ends quickly, and several scorch marks later, Kahn departs. Graciously, Seraphin extends an olive branch to the fleeing cat.
The Pass Through Xalious
Orikahn slinks along the path, slipping from bush to bush. To his credit, the enormous cat is very quiet when he moves, but alas, these bushes are much too small to hide a 7 foot tall, 300 pound monster like Kahn.
Seraphin with her jacket over her shoulder walks along the path. Dressed in a pair of black shorts and leather foot wraps and only a black cloth covering the lower portion of her chest, exposing the top half to the air, Seraphin orange eyes make note of the tall feline walking along the path. Her smile is given without teeth, and a silent nod, as of course it wasn't she heard rather it was little hard to miss.
Orikahn peeks through the branches of a brambly, bud-laden bush with bright, phosphorescent eyes, watching Seraphin approach. His ears perk, he licks his fanged chops, and he waits for her draw just a little nearer, a little nearer... but what's this? Orikahn's ears flatten as he senses something in his orange eyes. Has she spotted him? He hunkers lower behind the leafless shrub, and his brushy tail gives a broad, mischievous swish. For good luck, he takes his belt of skulls in his hand and counts through them one by one, wondering if he has space for another on the garland today.
Seraphin step hardly changes only subtle movements, from the sway of her hips to the sport of hot frame, to even the purple and blue locks of her hair, as if they were the colors of tongues of flame. As she moves further down the road, places her foot down hard forcing a loose rock to fly into her hand which she heats to a yellow glow. Was she the cautious sort, perhaps, but like fire, one responds to the spur of the moment, the change of the winds. Slipping her coat back on hiding her exposed midriff and upper half of her breasts she tosses the heated rock between hand and hand, with only a casual glance behind her.
Orikahn waits for Seraphin to pass before coolly, confidently drawing his bow and knocking an arrow, it's flint broadhead gleaming menacingly in the afternoon light. Raising the weapon, he draws, sights carefully down the shaft and lines up his shot. Orikahn aims, and with the soft musical "twick" of a bowstring, the arrow flies!
Seraphin who had previously only casual glanced back at the cat, now reacts quickly to the sound of the bowstring, her senstive elf ears picking it up, with spur of fast reflexes, she rolls forward out of the shot of the arrow, and then with simultaneous motion she catches the ground with her footing and leaps flipping backward and the adjusting her roll upward so that the her body and her arm release the stored energy into throwing the glowing rock like a fastball aimed directly at the feline with intent of hitting the widest berth of flesh so as the dodge be hardest to avoid. When she has thrown landed she rolls to the left grabbing another rock, heating it to be ready for the next response.
Oriakhn lets out a small, pained "oof" as the rock bounces off the thick, fluffy wolf hides covering his chest. He grimaces, stands, and is about to line up another shot when the smell of something burning strikes his nose. Kahn scrunches up his face, sniffing animatedly at the air only to realize, with quite the startled jump, that the fluffy fur of his jerkin has caught alight. "Grah!" Kahn drops his bow and hurries to smother the small fire with a fold of his cloak. Meanwhile, in the brush where the rock had bounced, a second fire springs to life, forcing the hunter to back hurriedly away from the bush and into plain(er) view. "No, look, behind you!" He points, ostensibly to something on the other side of the path. This is, of course a distraction. Whether she looks or not, Kahn will dive to snatch up his bow and take a hasty shot.
Seraphin takes advantage of the cat's sudden burning and rolls forward releasing a second stone towards the bow, before back flipping off the road, and raising her right hand to draw whatever flames had not been smothered out from the felines chest. Her orange eyes dance as she draws the the flame into a staff thick enough for her to hold and wield like a quarterstaff, which she does. She jabs behind her without looking to his own cry of "behind you." If he manages and arrow at her she would swipe it with her quarterstaff before releasing it has a spear of flame. the heat of which causing a distortion in the air, which might make it difficult to aim should the feline deliver a third shot.
Orikahn will have a scorch mark on his bow, now, at least until he finds the time to replace it. Lucky for him, Seraphin draws any lingering sparks for flames away which solves, at least, the problem of any fires on his person. Oh. That spear is something of a new problem, though. The massive feline eyes the spear, eyes the burnt spot on his bow, pats the singed fur at his chest. "Well done," he commends her in a booming bass voice appropriate to his stature, "I think we've scared them off. That was close. A lucky thing they're afraid of fire." The cat makes a dramatic show of shading his eyes and squinting into the distance. "I think that's the last of them running away now, yes. Very good." Kahn clears his throat, coughs, and takes a sidestep toward the edge of the road, inching his way toward a deer trail in the thicker, proper brush.
Seraphin sheathing her the fire from her spear, she moves out her left hand and the flames from the other stones move from her hand to the into a ball, and then she brings it to her mouth and inhales the fire vanishing. "I applaud your skill, hunter." her voice pleasant but with a bit of an edge, as her breathing is bit unsteady from having to leap into action. "Perhaps another time, then, I could use the practice, from such a skilled combatant." Paying him a compliment if he can still hear it as he moves away.
Orikahn hesitates, not sure if he ought to go now that she's replied with civil respect and not, well, outrage or terror. "Ah, quite right," the sabertooth agrees, perhaps a little vainly. "Another time. We'll uhm," his three eyes squint thoughtfully as he scratches the back of his neck, "go fishing." A beat of silence follows his suggestion. He looks left. He looks right. "Grouse!" It's the best explanation Seraphin will get when Orikahn ducks away to rush off into the wilderness. Whether there's a grouse or not, the elf's guess is as good as anyone's.