All of it was instinct at that point. When Zevran rushed, Starwind dodged, around another tree, shields going up as he did so. The lightning came to his hands all but unbidden and he was holding the bolts before any thought made its way into his mind other than survival. Once he realized what was happening, he banished them to dirty way, dissolving their energy into the ground. It was the faster of the two options and speed seemed to be what he needed.
The shields, though, stayed where they were, translucent and blue-green and solid. This was a mistake. The wrong place, the wrong time, the wrong meeting… He should have just vanished into the trees as soon as he had heard that voice. He should have waited for...what exactly? There was no guarantee of a better meeting, no assurance of any other places.
He stared, empty-handed, for a few moments before he found his voice again.
“I am no demon, and there are no crows in this place.” Something told him that the man in front of him didn’t precisely mean birds, but he carried on after only the slightest of pauses. “Not demon, yet…it seems, ash—” no, he wouldn’t call him that—“leeka’el, not quite a man, either. Perhaps it may be best to call me ‘ghost,’ no?
“If you wish nothing of me but violence, then I will go—“ not far “—but I’ve something to give you, first.” He hesitated for only a moment before moving his hands to the back of his neck and unknotting a leather cord, pulling what hung on it out from underneath his clothing.
After a few seconds looking at it, he dropped his shields and extended his arm, dangling the earring from the cord laced around his slender fingers in front of the man.
On a deer diet?
The shields, though, stayed where they were, translucent and blue-green and solid. This was a mistake. The wrong place, the wrong time, the wrong meeting… He should have just vanished into the trees as soon as he had heard that voice. He should have waited for...what exactly? There was no guarantee of a better meeting, no assurance of any other places.
He stared, empty-handed, for a few moments before he found his voice again.
“I am no demon, and there are no crows in this place.” Something told him that the man in front of him didn’t precisely mean birds, but he carried on after only the slightest of pauses. “Not demon, yet…it seems, ash—” no, he wouldn’t call him that—“leeka’el, not quite a man, either. Perhaps it may be best to call me ‘ghost,’ no?
“If you wish nothing of me but violence, then I will go—“ not far “—but I’ve something to give you, first.” He hesitated for only a moment before moving his hands to the back of his neck and unknotting a leather cord, pulling what hung on it out from underneath his clothing.
After a few seconds looking at it, he dropped his shields and extended his arm, dangling the earring from the cord laced around his slender fingers in front of the man.
“This is yours, no?”
Why would he have thought that…?