Deawen could not see the rider comming but the horses saw or heard the new rider either way Deawen leaped on her own stallion and chased after the new rider. this rider was strange cursing Fearan for no reason well it sounded like curses. Deawen rode with no saddle or bit but the horse moved to her whim with ease, the Small gaited stallion manuvered around the much larger horse and stopped in front of the horse Deawen Braced for Imapct but none came Bredol stood still but tossed his head alot Deawen clicked her tounge and circled the new rider since the rider was out of her line of vision. Bredol Pranced around the new horse tossing his head Deawen showed a grin " heo
ælf!" Deawen called to the others forgetting they did not speak her tounge or were her kind Of ourse they saw what the rider was but Deawen was always forgetting. she kept circling the rider trying to figure outif this was a friend or foe?

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

OCC: I found it! *bumpeths*

Yay!

Dea continued to watch the rider " who are you?" she asked with excitment, she never tired of new people but she was wary.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

Deawen grinned she glanced back at Fearan " well I don't think anyone likes it here but it was his desiscion to travel through these..Marshes.." Deawen said creasing her brow slightly " well,Eäryendë of the Teleri " she pronounced the name slowly and with care she wasn't fluent with elvish but she knew enough to get her by
she understood the greeting unlike the first time she heard the greeting she was convinced the Elf was trying to put a spell on her. Deawen squirmed in her saddle " I was not aware Fearan was under anyone's control " she stated with confusion, she turned her horse around and hopped to one island to the next towards the camp before she was scolded. she saw herself as the pup of the pack she was by far the youngest and the most imature.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

((
No hon, I'm sorry but it isn't. You failed miserably, now go and give me 250 push ups. NOW! Just kidding . That's perfect. Oh, and thanks for naming her horse after my character. That could get interesting.))

A string of curses, following his name, reached Fearan's ears. He almost didn't notice them: he had gotten quite used to being yelled at, but the voice was what drew his attention. Only people who had know Fearan for a long time were fed up enough to swear at him, try to trip him into the mud, wish his mother had never whelped him, ect. This voice was new: shrill, but not wholly unlikeable. He turned to its sorce. He could see Deawen picking her way back to camp, and an elven lady on a wild steed. Quickly he mounted his horse, a slight liver chestnut named Wilwarin, and cantered to the elf. With the dexterity and long practice of his kind, he lept from his mare and grabbed the reins, barely avoiding flying hooves. Fearan managed to bring the horse to all fours, and whispering elven songs, managed to calm the horse to a managable point. Fearan glanced up at the new arrival, the second one that day. "I can't say I know you, but I would like to know why I upset you so." His face was grave, but the mischevious glint in his eye showed the humour in which he spoke.

Deawen stood a few paces from Fearan (the person) closer to camp should anything happen. she was curious to how this Elf knew Fearan she was smiling devilshly. Like a child that has done a prank.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

"Not 'lord', milady. Just captain" The mischevious smile that had been fighting for a place on his face finally won. "You don't know me, you say? You seemed quite angry at me a second ago." He scratched his head and grimaced. "I can't say I'm surprised though. I've had tons of random people come up to my on the roads and try to bash my head in with pots and pans and other various forms of metalware." By now here steed had gotten over his fit and was now standing calmly. Fearan released his grip on the reins.

Deawen started to giggle like a small child would when they knew someone was about to lose thier cool. " Methinks the horse is your name Captian" Deawen announced her voice surprisingly older than her laugh.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

Fearan let a chuckle escape him. So this elf's horse shared his name? "That was quite a mix up" He smirked. "At least I know I'm not on your hate list. I have my name on to many of those already."

Deawen smiled childishly " that is very true " without warning she jumped on his back brought him down backwards in a stagnet puddle she kicked off the ground and landed on soft ground laughing. she pounced again this time to mess up his hair. she was laughing still " You have to admit that was quick wit" she was a mystery always playful agile and full of laughter yet her past was dark it was as if she tried to cover up her hardships.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

SPLASH

Of all the Valar... Thick, murky water splashed into Fearan's eyes, bilnding him. He grasped vainly for Deawen, and missed, feeling her clock brush his fingertips. He came up sputtering, still blinded, only to have his hair ruffled. A splash to his right: he lunged, caught Deawen's arm, and dragged her down to the pool of water with him. He rose to his feet with all the elven grace he could muster. "Curse it, Deawen, its not like I wasn't wet enough before." he wiped the sludge from his face. "You're lucky I don't cut off your head and use your thick skull as a club." If anyone caught a tone of disgruntleness, he or she would have been right: Fearan hated being wet, and he hated the cold. Above all, however, he hated being wet and cold. "Now my undergarments are going to bunch. Do you know how uncomfortable it is to have wet undergaments?"

Deawen being pulled back into the water struggled half heartedly. she sat in the pool of water grinning until Fearan got to his feet, she quickly made her face blank dominate tone followed getting to his feet... she hated that tone she just sat quietly, head slightly bowed like a child being punished. Deawen got out of the water " you have to admit your losing your touch twince in one day!" she commented.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

((Time for some fun!))

"You're going to loose more than your touch when I'm through with you" He growled, though they both knew that threat was empty. Sure, he would take revenge when she slept (humans were so pitifully unaware when they rested) but it would be harmless, a prank pulled by children.

Mounting his mare he rode to the elven women's side. "I do not believe I have your name, or your purpose. As you know, my name is Fearan. I'm captian of the- A horn call cut him short. Two short blasts, followed by a third drawn out note. He cursed. The camp was under attack! Urging Wilwarin into a gallope he raced towards camp, reaching the line of tents in time to see a band of orcs come over a hill. The scattered, surrounding the camp in a half circle. Fearan began calling out orders.
"Cuthalion! Take your bowmen and take out thier archers! Deawen, Tur, you're mounted, with me! Swords, bows, I don't care, just get on your mount! Turin, take ground forces and engage!"

Deawen scrambled to her feet and swung up onto her horses back she rode back to camp and found her sword. Bredol Reared at the approaching orcs. Deawen held on using the stallions mane. She decided to ride bareback since there was no time to saddle. she drew her sword and waited for orders deciding against just going straight off to fight Fearan would get upset and she was already in trouble as it was. the orcs scent made a vivid image at what lay before her.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

Deawen waited as long as she possibly dared the orcs now were close enough for her to see Bredol began to tremble not from fear but the surge of energy building inside him. she let the riens go slack and the small but sturdy horse lunged forward. he moved with such speed Deawen feared he might injure himself. But the horse lunged over puddles and mounds keeping a perfect gait the whole way.
it was a sureall moment just before the collision
Bredol charged into the largest orc he could find Deawen ready for this braced and held on to her mount by sheer mane. her sword stabbing into the orc he was knocked over and Deawen pulled out the blade. Bredol and Deawen fought as one. her sword arm was in constant motion the classic sweep followed by a thrust or a parry. she found no joy in killing but she loved the tactics.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

hey are we still continueing with this rp?

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home