Teaching A Savage (03)

"Miss Nimra, do you need help with anything? I can do it for you." Alban had proffered up the suggestion as a way of apologizing for this morning. And last evening. Oh, and didn't he fall on her, too? He woas starting to feel like a pretty bad person all of a sudden.

Nimra's eyes widened at the proposition made by the only conscious person left. She was more than surprised that Alban had even offered to help, really only used to her fellow villagers offering such things. Where was the savage that was crunching down bones, pushing them into the abyss known as his mouth? Where was the ferocious youth that almost blew the head off of a cyclops more than three times his size? Was the feral looking guy that she accidentally attacked and received a glimpse into hell as a consequence...even the same as the handsome youth right in from of her??

Her mind completely disconnected from her body, all Alban saw was a bobbing head staring straight at him. He just decided it was a nod and patiently waited for her to tell him what he could do. Uh, it was taking a while...he searched for something that he could use as an answer as Nmra failed to answer his query. Spotting no animals in tow and judging by how quick she came back, he assumed that she hadn't found the time to hunt for prey. He could do this for her, it was literally the thing he felt the best at.

"Hey, I don't think you got to catch any game? I can help you with that," he propounded with a sheepish smile. He was trying his best to make reparations here, he really wished Nimra would extend an olive branch. Alban would be sticking around Nimrod for a long time, it seemed. Wasn't really the best idea to have the literal daughter of the village's leader bear a grudge with him and hang around their house in the morning. That sounded like a perfect way to get an arrow lodged in his head, and pointy bits would probably hurt pretty bad.

The voice washed over Nimra's mind, pulling her out of her daze and bringing her back to reality. Her expressionless face morphed into a small smile, feeling relief that Alban wasn;t just a freeloader. Sure, she felt like he had to repay him for what he had done the day before, but even her generosity had limits. She was fed up with the man that contributed to her birth, for christ's sake. Strolling forward in a now cheerful demeanor, she told Alban that he'd better stay a bit further away from her. Friendly or not, the boy was still quite frightening.

---

The grey trees were bathing in the effulgent red rays that fell down from the moon, basking in its glow. Their branches were fully outstretched, taking in whatever amount of light they could catch, their very presence slightly diffusing mana into the environment. Oddly, some of the trees stood in contradiction of their siblings, the wiggling leaves seeming to shiver instead of dance, their withdrawn branches knocking against mottled trunks. The mana seemed to be getting richer in their general vicinity...shouldn't their motions be joyous instead of horrified? The trees had no eyes nor ears, but their connection of roots could feel a smattering of footsteps upon the ground.

Unbeknownst to all but the closest trees, there was a site divided between heaven and hell. The prior was inhabited by a young woman, an air of undisturbed gracefulness. There were no sounds apart from rustling in the grass to the occasional thwack of an arrow. The fauna in the area were rarely harmed, a minute amount of thin shafts sticking out from the trees. Every now and then, there was a thump that softly and quietly filled the air. It came coupled with subdued footsteps.

Not even three minutes away, the glaring contradiction was still operating at full swing. Roars, screams, cries, the environment had witnessed all of it before. What was new, however, was the sheer agony those cries portrayed, the random bouts of extreme heat, and innocent trees being uprooted twice, and then swung at the poor monsters. Twice! It was a rather low number out of context, but it was odd that the action was repeated. Was one tree not enough??

A wooden pyre was reduced to mere fuel, quickly transforming into a giant battering ram that was lit aflame. The cracking of bones and the crackling of flesh rang out around the place, indiscriminately striking anything that so much as moved. Only the youth in the center of it all seemed untouched, yet that was the scariest part. The teen was emitting an aura of ferocity so thick, the flames that every now and then licked the air used it as fuel to grow. The flames didn't last very long, briskly extinguished as fast as they were lit. The smile never left the youth's countenance.

Nimra peered over at Alban, directing mana into her eyes to extend her sight. Catching only a brief moment of him, she was assured that he was indeed the wild boy she had met the other day. She was still afraid of the version that smacked around monsters as easily as an agitated child smacking away their toys. She found the nice and friendly style to be weirdly off-putting, awkward and forced. Sighing, she called out to Alban.

"I think we have enough now! We've been at it for an hour...don't you need a break?" The resounding sound of smacking, burning, and crackling was instantly halted. The flames were doused with thick chunks of dirt that were raising up from the ground. Alban reverted from the natural, untamed second nature that had awakened deep inside him to a more polite, friendly mien. Scratching the back of his head, his visage bore a chastened smile. His eyes still had signs of joy and relaxation in them, an unfit expression when compared to the blood spattered across his body. You wouldn't know it was blood at a glance, the colors came in a variety of colors. It was like looking at a graffiti artist that tagged all day instead of a hunter that longed to fight all night.

"Sorry, I was just letting off some steam. Thank you for indulging me, Miss Nimra." A hesitant yet unrepentant clear voice sank into Nimra's ears, a shy voice she might have found cute if it came from a being incapable of quickly committing a massacre. She felt chills all up and down her spine.

Alban, on the other hand, perceived a more refreshing soft breeze kissing his skin. Being around people was great and all, but it had nothing on being free to roam as one pleased, doing whatever they wished out in the wilderness. It didn't matter if it was a small group of people. but staying in that village made him feel all stuffy. Suppressed. Taking in a lungful of air, he sat against the trunk of a grey tree, a tranquil and fulfilled emotion settling over him.

Nimra decided not to disturb him any further, starting the long voyage back to Nimrod all on her own.