Fort's Forests - Trailhead
The forests around Fort Weyr are tall and lush, filled with evergreen pines which tower above the floor and into the sky. This large clearing is one end of a pleasure riding trail which stretches from Fort Weyr to Fort Seahold. Although the majority of the trail is still under construction, this bit of the road has been completed. Tucked up close against the tree line, a small booth where runners, carriages or sleighs, among other things, can be rented is till unfinished. Several paths go off in different directions here, perfect for meandering. To the west the Amethysts in the Pines children's camp can be found, to the northeast is the weyr's beasthold, stables and indoor runnerbeast complex. The weyr proper is to the east and to the south, the riding trail continues. There is also a Signpost that you can view.

*CONTENT ADVISORY: This log should be read with an R rating kept in mind due to a mature situation, for safety's sake.

For all the air is cold tonight, it's still, even a bit heavy. The moonlight is there, but doing little more than illuminating the tops of the clouds themselves, visible as little more than a silver glow high above. The evening is densely black…save for one small clearing just outside the Weyr, lit by a good-sized fire in a pit leftover by a previous visitor. Brennan had to get outside the thick stone walls again. Needed to be out in the woods, needed to get familiar with this new crossbow. He'd started out late in the afternoon, and this little spot near the trailhead struck him as ideal - the fire pit, the huge dead log with big round knotholes just begging for a bolt through the center, the evergreens surrounding and blocking the place off from the rest of the world…the quiet. And if any renegades happen along, well. They'd be stupid to get this close to the Weyr that's after them, now wouldn't they? Brennan is currently propped against another log, resharpening the heads of a few bolts with a small whetstone, his pack propped nearby with the top flipped open. He'll get back to the Weyr eventually. It just looks like he intends that to happen only when he's good and ready.

Therynn has found solace in the biting winter air of a Fortian night and sets off to the outskirts she cherishes so. Something about the solitude, with its mysterious comfort, a beckoning rapture of cloud cover and moonlight above a symphony of humming critters and crooning beasts. The huntress is bundled up tonight, hair brushed neatly with a crimson colored knitted cap that hangs semi-slouchy in the back with extra material. A scarf of mostly black has a few burnt orange accents, and a long black coat billows about her form while retaining warmth. She wanders a good way, as Rynn tends to do, attention immediately directed towards a fire off in the distance. Knowing that she's not on top of her game, Tarth is sent *between* to find Th'ero and Kimm should any trouble be encountered. For now, quiet as a mouse, the huntress will crouch and side step her way towards the flames. She thinks to herself that a renegade would be quite idiotic to out themselves in such a manner so near to Fort, but she's no less cautious in her approach. Sneaking through the trees, she's doubled up on her suave approach skills, not making a single sound since she has to make up for her lack of long distance fighting abilities. Dagger drawn, she peers past tree trunks and bushes, only to see the most magnificent sight. "Brennan?" She pops up out of the wilderness and resheaths her blade.

Therynn is pretty good at the sneaking! Brennan doesn't hear her footsteps at all until the last possible second, his hand lowering to his own knife just before a familiar voice reaches his ears. Relaxing, he gives a snatch of a chuckle. "Well done," he says, reaching out to put the whetstone back in his pack and craning his neck to look up and back at the girl. "Though y' always say m' name like you're never sure y're actually seein' me when y' bump into me." He's giving her a hard time, of course - but that's bound to be expected by now. A little bit, at least. He fans the crossbow bolts he's been keeping in his palm, examining them in the firelight. "Been here before?" he questions, clearing his throat of the rasp that's set in from the cold.

Therynn steps out from the brush, arms up to show she means no harm. When the chuckle is paired with her own, there's a deep bow of regard. "Why thank you, sir." The compliment is taken graciously. "I guess the sight of you often takes me by surprise, 'specially when I find you in the still of the night, inhabiting areas and times that most normal folk do not." This could maybe be considered a compliment a la Rynn. "And prey tell, what brings you out to the peace and quiet tonight?" Though she already knows it is precisely that. Nearing the inner warmth of the fire, dangerously close to the grasp of his singeing blue eyes, Rynn chooses to come up right next to the fellow hunter. "Yep, many times now…and further." She motions towards the crossbow and bolts. "New?" she asks with interest.

The little display the huntress gives draws a smirk, and Brennan gives an amused grunt at her comment. "I'm not most normal folk," he returns rather wryly, though neither is she. And that's why they're both out here. "You know the answer," he says to her question, and then he's looking up at her, standing whereas he's sitting. He gestures for her to do the same, nodding at the crossbow. "Got it a few days ago. Same one I had in the bar. Needed to get some shooting. Though I'm payin' for it a little," he says, wincing as he shifts against the log and stretches his shoulder. "Too much sittin' around waitin' for things to heal."

Therynn finds this tete-a-tete rather amusing, their banter enjoyable and the hunter's company welcomed and pined after…not that she'd admit it, but the tone in her voice when saying Brennan's name uses surprise as the decoy for excitement. "You can say that again." She giggles at the sexy man-grunt that escapes him, nodding and agreeing. "I do know the answer." A seat is gladly taken - the closest spot possible without encroaching too much. She hadn't paid much attention to his weapons during their encounter at the bar, but does recall now the large crossbow that was on the table a great deal of the night. "You are hurting still," she notes with his wince. "The healing process is rough…" She uncloaks her hand, no longer bandaged, covered in a nice layer of salve with two large blister marks. "I know how you feel." Looking out towards the fire, she enjoys the night and the company, taking deep inhalations of air that feels like it could crystallize lungs from the inside out. "Brennan…" is said in a tone much the opposite of how he's noticed her say it in the past "…the other night…in the tunnels…when you asked me that question…" She awaits to see if he recalls. "Think you could ask me that again?"

Brennan's busied himself with sheathing his re-sharpened bolts back into the hardened leather quiver he keeps them in, but he's listening, an eyebrow raising slightly at that giggle from Therynn. As she takes that seat on his right, just a few inches away, he gives a shrug. "Guess that'll just be the way of things for a while," he grumbles, and her blistered hand coming into view draws a quick glance up. "Looks better than it did," he remarks, and then silence falls for a little bit. Finished sheathing his bolts, he tucks them near his crossbow and turns his own gaze to the fire. Her question has him sliding his gaze sideways to her, his face turning only slightly. "Asked ya a lot of questions the other night," he observes, currently ungloved fingers rasping at the bristly growth on his chin. "Which one d'you mean?"

Therynn nods in reference to her hand, watching as bolts are tucked away neatly. He's methodical and she quietly bonds with that familiar characteristic. "Healers said I've at least half a sevenday until I can pull a string again…" She shrugs and sighs softly, leaning in a bit while she waits to see if he's picking up what she's alluding to. Looking him eye to eye, unwavering with the depths of truth and raw emotions, she blinks softly in a way that bats lashes enticingly…or at least she hopes that's how it looks. "Y'know…" Eyes tear away for a moment only to return steady yet again, following his hand to chin movement - the same hand that grazed her arm so softly amidst the stalactites. "…When you asked me what I want." Pouty bottom lip is bitten.

"Like I said," Brennan reminds her, reaching out with his left arm to thump his crossbow. Then… Ah, yes. He remembers this question - a critical question, as much for Therynn to ask herself in general as well as for that particular moment in time. Brennan can be sneaky like that, getting people to think. Those batted lashes are, again, maybe a little unpracticed…but they're enough to grab the hunter's attention. He knew exactly where he was going with those questions that night and falls right back into that, shifting around a little to look at her fully, that familiar tiny smirk playing at the corner of his mouth as his arm moves to rest atop the log they're sitting against. "And have y' figured out what that is?" he asks, eyes drawn to that bitten lip. Not exactly the same question, but close enough.

Therynn never claimed to be anything more than an unpolished work in progress, intimately knowing that she and her flirtation techniques have a long way to go before they're even close to becoming refined. If only he'd heard the way she spoke of dragons in front of Nyalle! Whatever his intention, that question has stirred deeply in her soul since. Sure, she wishes he would now ask her again in the same way that coerced her to dig deeper, but she missed her chance once and isn't about to miss it again. The less she tries, the better it gets, lazy lids fluttering gallantly as she nods. "I have." She releases the tooth tug on lower lip, closing the gap between their two faces, placing one hand gently on his shoulder. "I want you," is stated with more coquettish conviction than anything that has ever been muttered by Rynn. Momentum will guide her, if he doesn't flail and run away, lips pursing to place a surprisingly well put-together kiss on his lips coming from someone with such minimal experience. Not much lingering will be done in this first ever attempted task of smooching a guy, though like any first kiss, it will seem as though time stands still…for the huntress at least.

Brennan doesn't flail and run away; flailing isn't his style. But he doesn't move at first, either. He figured this might happen at some point, but for it to happen now, and for Therynn to make the first move, catches him off guard a little. For her to say she wants him…well. For a woman to tell a man she wants him is very difficult to ignore, to say the least, but such an honest admission from her is what brings him to that stillness. The way she kisses him does come as a surprise - a sweet one, and he finds himself returning it in equal measure, carefully, the hand resting on the log slipping up to her nearest shoulder. He breaks their contact just enough to be able to look into her eyes, his own flickering with a remote fire - something restrained within. "Therynn," he murmurs, fingers moving lightly against her shoulder, "I'm not… Are y' sure y' wanna take this road with me? I'm not a…gentle guy, y'know. Won't push you to do somethin' y' don't want to, but…" He trails off, eyes lowering to her lips again. Maybe she'll be able to fill in the blank?

Therynn is rather pleased with herself for making a move, and even more ecstatic that it was fairly well received. She really doesn't know how this whole thing is supposed to work. Tidbits from Nae haven't included who's supposed to make the first move, but if she were to judge the timeline in greenrider terms, it'd be deemed a free for all. No time for thinking now! Those pesky thoughts…always trying to creep in and muck things up! Well, she's not letting them get the best of her this time. And for those few fleeting moments, she disregards his stillness and instead gushes every aspect of her being in to a neatly packaged kiss. The weight of his hand on her shoulder nearly melts the huntress in to a frenzy, but she maintains and reels it in as their first kiss comes to an end. She'll stare deeply into his endless blues, the flicker of firelight only enhancing the toasted chestnut shade of of her own. If only his eyes could burn like that, for her, it could be sweet. As he speaks, she metaphorically latches on to the sound of her name spoken by his lips, wanting to be in this moment time after time. "You're not what?" She feels self-conscious. "Interested?" She pushes back slightly as defeat tries to creep up her spine. "I'll have you know…I am a huntress, after all… You think I should be with some weaver or something?" Rynn gawks. If he's implying he's too much for her, she just won't take that! "Just because I lack experience doesn't mean I'm not worthy of something real…" A pause as the moment runs away with her. "…And passionate…" Maybe he just needs her to prove it? The eying of her lips makes her think so, and this time the kissing that ensues is much more ferocious, though she makes it a point to mind his healing ribs. Arms - yes, both of them - wrap around to clutch with moderate force against his back. She pulls herself in to him, still or not, and works to prove that a gal like her needs no 'gentle guy'.

Therynn's counter to Brennan's words have his brows arching slightly, and he starts to shake his head, especially when she starts to push back. "Ah, you're worthy of somethin’ real alright-" he starts, but then she's suddenly practically wrapped around him, and his head swims. Alright, she really does know what she wants now; he'll give her that. The fingers that were at her shoulder slip up to tangle in her hair, likely pushing aside what's covering her head as his other hand slides around to her back. She wants passionate? He can do that. Seeking to gain the upper hand now, the fingers in her hair tighten as his mouth sweetly crushes hers, and the arm around her back pulls, aiming to draw her into his lap. "Easy," he breathes against her lips, fingers withdrawing from her hair to trace lightly down her neck. "Slow down. Things last longer that way."

Therynn maybe should have let him get a few more words in, especially since he seems to put them together so well. There's no turning back now, and although the new-to-this huntress is probably in over her head, it's a sink-or-swim moment for the story that will unfold for Brennan and Rynn. His hand tangles in her locks in such a way that she wants always to keep them neat for him to mess up over and over again. The warmth from the hat that falls to the snow will be replaced by adrenaline coursing through her veins. Back arches daintily when his other hand wraps around, and suddenly it is clear just how petite she is in comparison to the 6'1” hunk. The upper hand he has, and Rynn slips easily on to his lap, lips parting from tongue lashing to imbibe in deep breaths and the words of caution. Her skin tingles as fingers run down her neck. "Does it always have to be slow?" she questions daringly.

Brennan straightens his back against the log, stretching his legs out beneath the woman on his lap and letting his hands draw down to her hips to pull her closer against him. "To a point," he answers with a smile edged in an almost feral sharpness, blue eyes now smoldering dangerously. With the slowness that he seems to vaunt so, the palms that rest on her hips travel slowly up her sides, a firm pressure seeking out the contours of her ribcage through her jacket before moving around to her back again. Lips feather against hers, the stubble of his face rasping lightly against her cheek as they venture elsewhere. "But it's the journey taken slowly," he whispers between teasing pecks trailed along her jaw line to her neck, "that makes reaching that point so much better." Sharditall, did she have to find him here? So many layers of clothes to worry about this way…

For being small, Rynn was blessed with rather lovely curves in all the right places. While this was something she used to hate and hide, there is unyielding gratitude for her genetic makeup at this sexy moment. A gentle thrust facilitates the hip pulling, and as if it just happens naturally, Rynn finds herself wrapped around one of the few things that's ever gotten her more excited than a good hunt. She'll smirk at his answer, side of one lip curling deviously to match that feral sharpness, far from frightened by the ‘come hither so I can eat you’ stare. No, no! she thinks, This won't do at all! Bulky coat does nothing for the reclamation of her shapely form, and in one fluid movement buttons are practically ripped off so that curves may be felt a bit more properly. It is somewhere between the feeling of soft lips and coarse stubble that all bets are off and Rynn succumbs to the throes of passion. Her breathing deepens, nipples standing erect through billowy undershirt as her body presses to his. "And what a journey it shall be…" is whispered back, head tilting towards the sky to better expose the unexplored sensitivities of her neck. She shivers, not from the cold, but from the sensation that runs across her skin when he does that to her - a spot she will later deem as one of her favorites. For now, beneath the clouds, amongst the snowflakes, in the light of the fire, the two will intertwine for a sultry exchange. This is probably as good a place as any for Rynn to find Brennan…the journey an essential aspect of the outcome. Besides, getting busy in the bathing cavern or some other already scantily clad location is so Weyr-esque and definitely not this huntress' preferred style…if she even has a style.