05-18-06

Characters involved: Marsuvees & Zoe_Lang.

River Moss

Marsuvees sighs, his heavy coat and shirt off for the first time in a while. He stands at the water's edge just below the dipping branches of the oaks, the breeze occasionally brushing his hatless head--and managing to irritate him slightly. Glancing up, he watches the sun die once more, big, marshmallow-like clouds skittering along, highlighted brilliantly by Sol's last rays. With a grunt, he stretches, before rubbing the long-twisting tattoos covering his entire back and front. Soundlessly, he leaps onto a rock, stares at a deep pocket of water between two boulders. "Looks cold," he mutters, before hopping right in. Sploosh.

Sploosh? Suddenly a head appears around one of those boulders, and then an upper body tilted back. The Colonel is sitting on a lower boulder with one leg of her pants rolled up to her lower and said leg dunked as far in the water as is possible without wetting the pants. The leg looks normal up to a point, but the calf looks oddly... diminished. Her brow wrinkles at the buck. "What're you /doin'/, Marsuvees?"

Marsuvees starts suddenly, both blades whipping from his sheathes, striking the near-by boulder due to proximity. Eyes wide, but partially blinded by his own hair, he glances around. Oh, Zoe.....Oh, crap! He swiftly dunks below the water, hiding his torso. "Colonel." Level voice, but he doesn't look happy. "Er, swimmin'. Cleanin." He grumbles something about being far from camp. "What're you doin?" He keeps down low in the water, though.

For one reason or another, the Colonel doesn't seem embarrassed by Marsuvees' state of dress. She does appear to find his embarrassment rather amusing, though. A ghost of a smirk plays about her lips and she considerately looks away, ducking back behind the boulder which she was leaning against and which hid her from view. Her voice comes from around it and over it. "Easin' some old aches. Not that any of 'em are young anymore." She grins, rubbing absently at her leg and looking out over the river. "Swimmin' kinda far off from camp, aincha?"

Marsuvees relaxes, back-pedaling lightly in the water and leaning against the rock, sighing lightly. "Old aches, eh? Aye, swimmin' soothes more th'n physical aches sometimes, ya know?" Rubbing at his arms around the blades, he grunts and unlatches them, handing them around the rock. "Couldya kindly put 'em down? I fergot ta take them off earlier." Slowly, he dips back into the water. "Far from camp fer a reason, Colonel. I don't do nothin' without a reason." Dip. Back up. He shivers slightly as the cold slowly permeates through his skin. "What 'appened to yer leg? Or be it a too pertinent question?"

Zoe_Lang takes the blades when they are passed to her, setting them down on the rock a couple of feet to her left. Her ears twitch at his response and she nods. "Fair 'nough, friend, fair 'nough." She chuckles at the question and jerks her shoulders in a shrug despite the fact that Mars won't see it. "I don't mind yer askin'." She gives a small, weary sigh then laughs at the weariness in it. "I guess the bettah question might be what hasn't happened t' it. Bad hip, bad knee, busted up muscles..." She shakes her head. "The calf's the worst of it, I guess. Got me a good slice righ' through the back o' it. Took a good season t' recovah t' what it is 'n' it still wasn't evah the same."

Marsuvees frowns at the water, watching the liquid flow through his fingers as he lightly scrubs his face. "I'm lucky, in 'at aspect, I guess. No lastin' impediments." He chuckles. "Well, in a certain sense, I guess," he mutters cryptically. Sufficiently chilled, he sighs heavily, then lifts himself from the water up the boulder. He slowly realizes that Zoe comfortable enough, and he's getting to cold to stay in the water. Shaking violently, he dries himself slightly, before moving around to Zoe's side. Glancing at his fur, he rubs it. The red around the tattoos has faded slightly from a blood-red to a russet apple hue. "Have ta fix that," he mutters. Sitting himself comfortably, he tries to soak whatever heat he can from the stone. "You been in a lotta battles then? When'ja get inta Salamandastron?"

Zoe_Lang glances to the side at the apparently-new tattoos, eyebrows raising. But for the moment, at least, she looks back toward the river and refrains from inquiring about them. Her ears twitch and she smiles. "Enough. They don't make ya a Colonel fer bein' good at sewin'." She considers for a moment before answering his latter question. "I joined the patrol at... what? Eight, nine seasons? We were at the 67th HQ back then, though, here in Mossflowah."

Marsuvees flicks his whiskers dribbling with water, before reaching up to fiddle with the bone pipe around his neck. "Aye, ya worked hard--and fought hard. I ken." With a slight whistle, he grins. "Eight seasons old? Ever thought a retirin'? Mayhap move somewhere other th'n a monotonous stretch of shore stained for eons wi' blood?" Staring towards the sky, he chuckles warmly. "Honestly, t'would be wot I would do, but to each his, or her, own, aye?" Flicking an ear, he rubs a bit of water out of it. "I hope ya don't mind th' questions, Colonel. I jus' like knowin' stuff."

Zoe_Lang is amused into a soft snort and a smile. She gives her leg an idle rub and looks with slightly slitted eyes across to the other bank. "Considahed? Aye. I almost did, at one point. But it just wouldn't stick. Figure I'm stuck at the mountain fer a bit longah, yet." She sends a glance to the side at Marsuvees, considering him for a moment. "'Sides, the shores may be red with an awful lot o' blood, but there's a lot o' love there, too, 'n' goodness. What's bettah than protectin' that?"

Marsuvees purses his lips, appearing to think very hard, then grins wide. "Ever had chocolate?" he responds, laughing quietly. "Worth it's weight in gold on th' outer Eastern Islands." He turns serious. "Love and Goodness. Two aspects that've always alluded me." Smirking, he gives her a friendly wink. "Tell ya what, if ya find it, could'ja share th' secret wi' me?" Tracing a tattoo on his arm where the blade latch usually holds, he stares blankly at it. "Wot about family. Ever had one? I'm sure there be Love and Goodness in one a those, right?"

Zoe_Lang laughs at the rather sudden and out of the blue question. She gives a short shake of her head. "No. Can't say I've evah had chocolate. Haven't had much chance t' travel t' the 'outer Eastern Islands', as ya say." Without really transitioning, she nods. "Had. Have. I have a mate 'n' a leveret, Miette. And m'oldah daughtah, Keita. She's but a coupla seasons youngah than you, I'd guess. Othah than that, I've got family - m'aunt 'n' her brood - a coupla days downshore from the mountain." She glances toward him, thoughtfully. "You? Any little Marsuvees runnin' about?"

Marsuvees laughs as well, but it seems strained. "Haha, me?" Clearing his throat, he glances off at the sky again. "No, no, I'm not...." He trails off, shrugging, rubbing his fur lightly as it dries off. "Not suited for that sort of life, I don't think. Just...too much in me life, ya know." Nodding resolutely, he fiddles with the bone pipe again. "An' I keep tellin' meself that since I ain't had a chance, I'd give the younger generation one. Sala seems like a good point ta start. Make th' world a li'l better through a li'l blood." He smiles, as if he were kidding, or joking, but it's hard to tell. "Mayhap I'll find Grace and Hope later in life." He traces a spiral on the rock with a blunt claw. "You lookin' for anythin' nowadays, Colonel?"

"Grace 'n' hope, huh?" Zoe muses with a small chuckle. She shakes her head and simultaneously shrugs. "I don't know about grace 'n' hope. Mostly? Mostly I guess the only thing I look for anymore... s' a little dignity. The dignity t' look m' family in the eye 'n' not feel like I've failed 'em." She turns her head to look at him, offering him a wry smile and a nod. "You may've chosen the bettah path, m'friend, with not havin' a family. It can complicate things, oh how it c'n complicate things."

Marsuvees shrugs, feeling his fur again. It's dry. Slipping on his shirt and coat in quick succession, he speaks as he affixes his blades. "Oh, a complication be a small price ta pay for some manner of love." Straightening the blades, he smirks. "An' listen, Colonel, I dunno how ya take advice, or if it be insubordinate of me, but..." The smirk lifts up into a smile. "Ya only fail someone when ya quit on them, ya ken? If ya give up on Hope, which springs eternal, then, you've lost." Pulling his hair back into it's traditional ponytail, he sighs, standing up. Heaving a great sigh, he hums at the dark sky, folding his hands behind his neck. "Dignity is all right an' well, but Love be a fickle mistress. My advice? Work on th' love aspect before the dignity." He grins. "Course, I'm mostly ignorant of the situation, bu', mayhap it'll help, aye?" Looking back towards camp, he grins. "It t'were a pleasure chattin' wi' you, Colonel."

Zoe_Lang watches Marsuvees gather himself together with a quietly musing smile. Her ears twitch as he speaks and she bows her head when he's concluded. "I thank ya fer yer words, 'n' I'll take them greatly t' heart. An' hopefully some good'll come of 'em." She offers another, more focused smile and lifts a paw in brief farewell. "G'night t' ya."

Marsuvees chuckles, turns on his heel, and heads towards camp without another word.