The_gladiator
Avatar of Fantasy
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2007
- Posts
- 24,484
Taurean was a bit surprised that she didn’t strike him or immediately pull away. However, he couldn’t say that he was displeased. The moment felt perfect.
He did not linger in the moment, her words were wise, there pray was moving while they stalled. He gave her a nod and his special smile for her, and then headed off through the woods. He seemed to have gone into hunting mode. There was no more talk, but the silence this time was not uncomfortable, it was purposeful. He had gone into a stalking mode.
He abruptly stopped. He was surprised she had stayed with him as well as she had. She was not as silent as him, but he suspected few would have heard her. He faced her and his hands flashed in the intricate hand signals, sign language of the drow. Not sure she had understood what he said, he tried to simplify things. He gave her a gesture that was indicated to mean that she would wait there. He made a gesture suggesting he would walk in a circle around whatever was ahead.
And with that he was gone. It was clear that previously he had been moving so she could follow, but when he melted into the foliage this time, no one was meant to see him, even her. There were noises ahead, voices, an argument.
“They can’t be this far. We’d have found their tracks,” One voice rose above the rest.
“Silence you fool,” another voice. The rest was unintelligible from the distance that celaena must be.
Taurean still did not know if she had understood his hand signing. If she had understood the silent code, he could have made a bird call for her to move into a position to attack, but he couldn’t count on her knowing what it meant. He would only dare to use it if there was trouble.
Taurean’s frown deepened as he counted no less than 10 around their camp. Clearly, they were sharing a meal. He closed in on one of the sentries and dropped in behind him. His garrote that he had produced from his belt pouch, slipping over the man’s neck, landing just so. The sharp wire not just strangling the man, but slicing deep through the throat as Taurean jerked his hands apart.
The second sentry met the same fate, but did get off a shout before he died.
The shout roused the camp who all rushed towards the noise. Cover blown, Taurean Whistled an alert wondering if Celaena would recognize the call that woodsmen of Kierielle often used to communicate when approaching one another. He was trying to warn her that he was returning to her but others were following.
Taurean emerged from the trees at a rapid clip, the bloody garrote wire looped to the side of his belt rather than safely away in the pouch. A dagger was already in his hand. “They come,” he finally said in elvish.
He did not linger in the moment, her words were wise, there pray was moving while they stalled. He gave her a nod and his special smile for her, and then headed off through the woods. He seemed to have gone into hunting mode. There was no more talk, but the silence this time was not uncomfortable, it was purposeful. He had gone into a stalking mode.
He abruptly stopped. He was surprised she had stayed with him as well as she had. She was not as silent as him, but he suspected few would have heard her. He faced her and his hands flashed in the intricate hand signals, sign language of the drow. Not sure she had understood what he said, he tried to simplify things. He gave her a gesture that was indicated to mean that she would wait there. He made a gesture suggesting he would walk in a circle around whatever was ahead.
And with that he was gone. It was clear that previously he had been moving so she could follow, but when he melted into the foliage this time, no one was meant to see him, even her. There were noises ahead, voices, an argument.
“They can’t be this far. We’d have found their tracks,” One voice rose above the rest.
“Silence you fool,” another voice. The rest was unintelligible from the distance that celaena must be.
Taurean still did not know if she had understood his hand signing. If she had understood the silent code, he could have made a bird call for her to move into a position to attack, but he couldn’t count on her knowing what it meant. He would only dare to use it if there was trouble.
Taurean’s frown deepened as he counted no less than 10 around their camp. Clearly, they were sharing a meal. He closed in on one of the sentries and dropped in behind him. His garrote that he had produced from his belt pouch, slipping over the man’s neck, landing just so. The sharp wire not just strangling the man, but slicing deep through the throat as Taurean jerked his hands apart.
The second sentry met the same fate, but did get off a shout before he died.
The shout roused the camp who all rushed towards the noise. Cover blown, Taurean Whistled an alert wondering if Celaena would recognize the call that woodsmen of Kierielle often used to communicate when approaching one another. He was trying to warn her that he was returning to her but others were following.
Taurean emerged from the trees at a rapid clip, the bloody garrote wire looped to the side of his belt rather than safely away in the pouch. A dagger was already in his hand. “They come,” he finally said in elvish.