RP:The More You Bow

Summary: Aira and Alvina run into each other in Frostmaw's caverns. They lightly touch on how she gained her new ears and tail before discussing archery lessons for a nifty bow. Let's hope Aira's patience holds out!

Faux Twilight Cavern

Alvina sat in the twilight Cavern, curled into a carved stone chair that envelops one’s entire body. A bowl of an object, to give the occupant the perfect view of the arcanely lit ceiling. The perfect glassy stillness of the waters in the cavern reflect the faux star light back into itself, appearing to repeat forever ad infinitum. It’s become her favorite place to hide, to think. Everyone who came through the caves either needed gems or the hot springs, so this place was empty. Quiet. Safe. She’s wearing her normal Frostmaw weathering gear; a navy cloak complete with matching high neck dress and white boots. The boots have been removed, placed beside the stone chair she occupies. Her emerald eyes are overhead, hair pulled back into a loose braid to rest along her shoulder. Her ears deaf to any approach, lest it be explosive in presentation.

Aira , as it were, had just come from the hot springs as made apparent by the dampness of her longer, platinum locks which hand heavy over her shoulder, a few strands sticking to her face and neck. She had come to love this cavern as well—the expanse of the starlight reminded her of clear nights back in Rynvale, one of the only fond memories she had of that place. She is dressed simply enough in her usual leggings and blouse, a cloak fastening at her throat and her knee-high soft leather boots. Her vulpine tail swishes idly with each step and Aira takes a deep breath upon entering. Suddenly, russet hued ears atop her head flatten as a noise is heard. It was nothing offensive or loud, but rather soft, much like a breath. Copper eyes shift towards the sound and they narrow in the direction of Alvina, not recognizing who it is. Instinctively, her hand reaches towards her hip where her sheathed dagger lays (her bow and arrows left at the lodge). “Sorry to disturb you,” she calls out tentatively.

Alvina inhales and exhales slowly, focusing on the stars and her steady heartbeat until another voice bubbles up from the darkness. Presumably directed at the bard, unless she’d missed more occupants somehow? Her crimson curls fall back between her shoulder blades, still woven and uneven. Emerald optics search through the shadows until they find Aira. She blinks, startled but recognition though the name that might have once came with the face is fleeting. Dripping somewhere near the tip of her tongue, too slippery to grasp with her lips. “Not at all.” She smiled, waving Aira over in her direction with her left, golden metallic hand. It’s digits flex and fold in the same fashion as a normal flesh and blood hand might. “It’s rather nice to have a touch of company. Otherwise, you could get lost in here forever.” It’s a simple but dangerous idea. There’s nothing in this cave with which to mark the passing of time in the outside world. The bard leans over then, to shift her white boots out of the way of the other seat to her left and awaits Aira’s approach before she continues to speak. “Always happy to run into another enthusiast of disconnecting from the world for a while.” It’s an easy assumption to make, though possibly incorrect. Alvina voices it anyway.

Aira recognizes the voice but at the moment she cannot place the name. The huntress’s fingers tap her sheath once more but she does not sense the threat of danger so she opts to accept the invitation. Her footfalls echo around the cavern with slow, measured steps before she comes to stand beside the bard. Almond shaped eyes narrow slightly and fox ears twitch as she points down at the woman. “I know you,” she says, sitting down in the offered seat. Aira purses her lips together before adding, “I think I may threatened you with an arrow…” she says with a sheepish smile.

Alvina tilts her head when the woman sits. Fox ears? Now that - she didn’t remember. “We have met but forgive me, I think it’s been quite a while and I’ve misplaced your name in my brain somewhere.” She smiles, lips flinching only slightly when Aira mentions threatening the bard at some point. “Ah well, the only people I’ve ever known to do so ran with that fluff ball Kahn so it’s easy to forgive…” She lifts her fleshed right palm, showing it to Aira as if waving away their past mishap. “It’s Alvina,” she offers with a lax smile. It felt rude to commit on the additional foxkin accessories. It reminded her a lot of Ranok though. “I know this is really out of the blue and made out of place since we are basically almost strangers but … have you always had those ears?” It’s not proper to touch them, people hate that but they are so cute.

Aira smirks at the mention of that saber cat and a breathy chuckle leaves her lips. “He does seem to be a bad influence on people,” she comments in an offhand sort of way. “Alvina, that’s right!” She exclaims with a nod, the name more familiar now that it had been spoken aloud. “And I’m Aira,” she adds quickly. The huntress reaches up to run her fingers through her locks, loosening some tangles that had begun to form. At the mention of her ear, her nose wrinkles and that vulpine tail swishes and most likely brushes against Alvina’s legs. “No, these are a fairly, ah, new addition."

Alvina nods, the memory coming back with her name. “Ahhh yes.” And she chuckles, shaking her own head. “Well I do think shooting someone with an arrow is far worse than threatening so you’re A+ in my book.” It really had been dumb fate that saved her from the saber to begin with. “They’re cute!” She offers, hoping this’ll ease any uncertainty the huntress has, even though Alvina knows saying something is cute doesn’t make it ‘better’. Ah well. “It reminds me of a friend of mine. He’s got wolf ears though, I believe.” The tail does indeed brush Alvina’s leg and she has to use all of her self control not to make an ‘awwwww’ sound when it does. Aira’s tail is so soft!! “I don’t think he has a tail though…hmm…” Weird thing to think about. Anyway! “How have you been? I don’t think we ever got a chance to properly meet before.” Her smile is bright even in the dim light of the cavern. Her demeanor is relaxed and friendly, and she doesn’t appear to be carrying any weapons with her.

Aira wrinkles her nose again at hearing that her ears are ‘cute’ but she doesn’t say anything, feeling to do so would be awfully rude. However, when Alvina continues on about her friend, the huntress scowls and lets out a little huff. “Are you talking about Ranok? Because it’s -his- fault I have these things!” She says gesticulating towards her vulpine accessories. Aira crosses her legs and leans back slightly. “He did have a tail,” she adds. “He chopped it off.” The vixen tilts her head to the and cracks her neck. “Anyway, I’ve been well. Busy hunting. What about you?” Aira is certainly much more approachable then the last time the two had met.

Alvina bawks when Aira says this. “I-it’s Ranok’s fault?” Her eyes wide, pupils pin pricks in the whites of her eyes. And then the image of Ranok with a fluffy wolf’s tail and it’s a mix of emotions. It must be the same kind of...curse? What even do you call that? “Ahhh…” Alvina paused, feeling like she should apologize but she isn’t sure -why-. It’s not like she had anything to do with it...but she had called it cute and Aira seemed to be less than at peace with the idea of those rust - colored ears and tail. “He has a penchant for trouble.” She adds, though Aira like most people likely already knew. She’d have to find time to scold that old man sometime. When the huntress asks about how Alvina is, her face twitches reflexively. “Hunting…” She said, wistfully. “Wasn’t there a joke about you giving me lessons?” Had it been a joke? Did the offer still stand? “There are a lot of dangerous things in the world now…” but when weren’t there? “It might be good to know a thing or two about how to not be eaten. But otherwise! I’ve been -” Her left eyes twitches and she rubs it with the pad of her left, golden index finger. “I”m surviving.” That’s a term yes? Was it her imagination or was she a lot less confrontational? Was it because she was happier? Was it because of the additional fox bits? “You know, if you ever need a bow, I make a mean weapon. We could maybe agree to some kind of trade?” Her emerald eyes are bright with possibilities. “You could teach me how to use one and I could make you one?”

Aira hmphs again, not at Alvina, per say, but at Ranok’s involvement in her new animalistic qualities. “He certainly does,” the huntress agrees with a nod. Of course she conveniently leaves out the part where she went nosing around Ranok’s house without permission, but that wasn’t what was important, right? At Alvina’s explanation of how she is, Aira arches a brow. “Just surviving?” She prods gently, although the idea of a new bow causes at tail to swish again and her ears to perk excitedly. “I think that would be a trade I would be more than willing to make!” She exclaims with a grin. The girl did love her weapons.

Alvina was happier to talk shop than personal status inquiries nearly any day of the week. Work was work! Straight forward, to the point. Machines and weapons she understood. She didn’t become Frostmaw’s blacksmith because she was wispy and passionate!! Beneath her skin ran the heart of a poet, true, but all the better to put heart and soul into the craftsmanship of high quality weapons and inventions. “A lot of plagues running around recently…” She remarked on the state of her survival before swiveling back to the excitable topic! “Shake on it!” Alvina offered her right, fleshed hand to Aira in good spirits. It’s rare for her to offer the other. People are freaked out by metal fingers, it’s understandable. “Any kind of weapon you prefer? I made this -wicked- bow for Khitti, the vampiress if you’ve met her, but geez.” She kissed the air in front of her left fingers, as if blowing a kiss. “Not to brag, but it was pretty sweet. I bet I could make you something just as impressive.” A cocky grin takes her features. “If you can be patient with my terrible archery skills.” And then she laughs, deep and full, so it fills the cavern with mirth and possibility.

Aira has watched black goo drain from Kahn’s body, been shot with an arrow in the shoulder, stabbed herself in the stomach, and bleed and butchered her share of critters—metal flesh would not have phased her in the least. Still, Aira’s hand slips into Alvina’s and gives her a firm shake. Her grin falters somewhat at the mention of Khitti, a shadow creeping over her metallic gaze; however, in a blink it is gone and her pleased expression still remains. “I have no doubt of your skill, Lady Alvina,” she says with a courteous bow of her head. “I would prefer a bow,” she admits. “It is my most used weapon, and if you wouldn’t mind making another, I would be most appreciative. As for your your archery skills, no worries. Hunters are very patient creatures. I have sat in trees for days at a time waiting for prey, teaching you will be easy in comparison.” Aira hopes, at least.