93rd of Ashan, Arc 718 -- recreating placeholder due to accidental mod deletion!
They hadn't gone back to Kaelserad, like Alistair promised. Instead, they went straight north, through Cycres and its sparse population... and onto Hyran, with thick forestry, rolling hills and long fields. The mage had led Jonathan to a small forest with no true permanent monster population - just a few skittering deer, rabbits and other small animals that could sustain themselves on the very plentiful amounts of food present for their uniquely strange bodies. The forest was east of Hailen, near to the coast but not entirely. And, in that forest, the mage had begun to set up camp. He had been using Transmutation to make the setting very picturesque - he'd built a firepit, and had sculpted each rock to be of a perfect oval shape. Tendrils of ether, like cutting appendages, extended from his wrists and did much of the work.
He had begun to expand his capability, in Transmutation, and had studied it intensively whilst the two of them set up their little... forest enclave. Jonathan was daft when it came to Fieldcraft and all things wildlife, anyhow; Alistair had the time, extra bits and moments, to study. He focused on the form of the rock, the shape of the oval. He focused on the smoothness, most of all, the texture that came in the face of a sheer, flat surface, even when curved. It came as a result of no ridges, no sudden or pointed ascent or descent, just a balanced flat shape or a smoothly transitioned slope.
Alistair had been immensely perplexed by this craft from the moment he'd acquired it, though once Jonathan had finished setting up his tent, he laid the rock back into its place among the triangular bundle of sticks and let shy the wonder away from his gaze.
"Jonathan," he called to his partner. Alistair rose, standing at his full height. He was wearing the same casual ensemble he always did, merely with a different pair. White, clean upper cloth much like a polo, and tan linen trousers that did not descend far past his knees. Now, unlike previously, he wore boots - protection from edged rocks and branches, snakes, and other unfortunate and tumultuous things.
For now, though, it didn't matter. The physical aspect of this trip was inconsequential - there was little to do in this small forest, save for linger by the pond, or walk in circles within the treeline, or hunt docile prey among the clearings. They had both, in truth, come for conversation and learning -- and without the aspect of Aberration to interfere. So, knowing this, Alistair came to the body of his lover and took him strongly into his warmth, breathing into his ear as he kissed along his jaw.
"How are you feeling, Jon?" he asked. They needed to learn of one another . . . and in that grand, vast conversation, there was always an easy start: compassion.
They hadn't gone back to Kaelserad, like Alistair promised. Instead, they went straight north, through Cycres and its sparse population... and onto Hyran, with thick forestry, rolling hills and long fields. The mage had led Jonathan to a small forest with no true permanent monster population - just a few skittering deer, rabbits and other small animals that could sustain themselves on the very plentiful amounts of food present for their uniquely strange bodies. The forest was east of Hailen, near to the coast but not entirely. And, in that forest, the mage had begun to set up camp. He had been using Transmutation to make the setting very picturesque - he'd built a firepit, and had sculpted each rock to be of a perfect oval shape. Tendrils of ether, like cutting appendages, extended from his wrists and did much of the work.
He had begun to expand his capability, in Transmutation, and had studied it intensively whilst the two of them set up their little... forest enclave. Jonathan was daft when it came to Fieldcraft and all things wildlife, anyhow; Alistair had the time, extra bits and moments, to study. He focused on the form of the rock, the shape of the oval. He focused on the smoothness, most of all, the texture that came in the face of a sheer, flat surface, even when curved. It came as a result of no ridges, no sudden or pointed ascent or descent, just a balanced flat shape or a smoothly transitioned slope.
Alistair had been immensely perplexed by this craft from the moment he'd acquired it, though once Jonathan had finished setting up his tent, he laid the rock back into its place among the triangular bundle of sticks and let shy the wonder away from his gaze.
"Jonathan," he called to his partner. Alistair rose, standing at his full height. He was wearing the same casual ensemble he always did, merely with a different pair. White, clean upper cloth much like a polo, and tan linen trousers that did not descend far past his knees. Now, unlike previously, he wore boots - protection from edged rocks and branches, snakes, and other unfortunate and tumultuous things.
For now, though, it didn't matter. The physical aspect of this trip was inconsequential - there was little to do in this small forest, save for linger by the pond, or walk in circles within the treeline, or hunt docile prey among the clearings. They had both, in truth, come for conversation and learning -- and without the aspect of Aberration to interfere. So, knowing this, Alistair came to the body of his lover and took him strongly into his warmth, breathing into his ear as he kissed along his jaw.
"How are you feeling, Jon?" he asked. They needed to learn of one another . . . and in that grand, vast conversation, there was always an easy start: compassion.
