courage don't desert me {OPEN}

[FAYNE UNDARIA]

This was it.

She—she could do this.

She could—she could step out of the water. She could—oh by the spirits of the Lake she could not do this. Arms wrapped around her chest as she eyed the shore with no small amount of trepidation, Fayne took in a deep shuddering breath. It sounded more like a squeak than the commanding puff she wished it was but well…well…beggars could not be choosers, yes? Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, the young undine shut her eyes.

Alright. She could…she could do this. It only required pulling herself ashore and waiting until her fins dried enough that she could gain legs. But…oh dear.

What if—what if ruffians came along? Brother had mentioned something about humans being frightening and that wasn’t even counting the elves of the dragons or the dwarfs or the giants or the monsters and…and….face blanching, Fayne let herself sink below the lake’s waters once more until just her eyes were visible.

This…this was not going well.

Not…not going well at all. Another squeak come sigh broke free from her lips and after making a mental note to work on her squeaks—sighs, they were sighs—Fayne gulped and then slowly began to move forward again. If her eyes darted nervously around her and she froze every few seconds, well, it was of little consequence, yes?

She was…she was moving forwards!

Almost to the shore now, Fayne stopped, moving towards one of the many rocks sticking out of the lake water before levering herself on. She could…she could wait until she got legs and then jump from here. Or…or she could somehow manage to shore herself and work from there.

If only…if only it didn’t involve beaching herself, Fayne was sure the process would move much more smoothly. But—but it looked so undignified. Why, if brother came he would surely laugh. Or, Fayne thought with a flinch, scold her.

The second after all, was much more likely. Eyes straying down to where the water just barely lapped at the ends of her fins, Fayne sighed, mood momentarily lifted when it came out as a proper gust of air rather than the sad squeak she’d emitted earlier.

Looking back towards the misty shore—a scant jump away if she managed to let her fins dry out long enough for her to gain legs, Fayne sighed again.

Alright. A few more minutes.

Maybe then she could finally work up the courage.

- tag : open!
- notes : feel free to hop in~ C:
- words : 414
- music : n/a
- outfit :that depends ...do undine even wear clothes when they're in the water? o__e
- credit : template brought to you by The_Actress. lyrics from RIVER by LIGHTS!

[LACHLAN DUDLEY]

The carcass bled softly upon his shoulder. The roaring stench of hide wafted below his nostrils, flared wide with fever. Lachlan dug his fingers into the fatty flesh of the doe, hosting her tight to him. Black-bead eyes flickered for sight. He was in need of a camp so that he could settle before the dusk grew thick. There was a softening mist within the air that cut short hope of any clear vision; it signaled the close proximity of Laroona Lake. A smile split his cracked lips. He tasted blood on the thin rims. Lachlan didn't give any thought to the grizzly rumors surrounding the enchanted water; he never gave much thought to anything at all. He only did. That's who he was and damn the rest. A muscle within his upper blade twitched igniting the spark of a cramp; his lids creased. Regardless if the frightened whispers held any note of wisdom he would have to make bed soon; his prey would only further slow him and attract unwelcome visitors if left uncleaned.

Lachlan arched a brow as his boots began to sink. A high squish cried out as he lifted his boot's sole, staring down into the muck. Moist clay clumped at his heel. Peeling his gaze upward he noted the gleaming waters ahead and for a moment felt his breathing hitch. It was quiet. Past telling of seductive lyrics spun to lure the impure crept within his mind's thoughts, but he quickly snapped and shook them out. "Seven Devils," he spat, stepping on. He couldn't care less of what awaited at the shoreline; it would swiftly meet his blade in a bloody introduction. The metal gave a thirsty hum. Throwing the deer's body to the ground it gave a sickening thud. Lachlan winced relieved at the loss of weight. Sure he could carry it, but did he want to? No. He crouched beneath the meat and considered the best place to start the cut. Calloused-fingers brushed the hilt of his sword out of habit but a whispered wind snatched his hearing. Lachlan froze, slowly, inch by inch turning his head toward the lapping waves.

Ahead a shrouded form smudged the horizon. He squinted, attempting to better see through the damp haze. Gradually he stood feeling the joints within his knees pop. It was an unfortunate side effect of a nasty leap from his youth. "Oi! he shouted, unsheathing his weapon. "What do you want?" His growing curiosity and hunger for a possible threat boiled his blood. He took a step closer. The features began to clear into feminine lines and curves. Whoever, or whatever, he had spotted was of the opposite gender. Wrinkles lined his brow. What the devil was she doing just sitting there and staring? Without bothering to wait much longer for reply he screamed louder, "OI!

[FAYNE UNDARIA]

They were almost dry—she could feel it. Fins curled atop the rock, Fayne watched as the scales coating her lower portion began to dry and flake off. It was strange surely, to watch the silvery sheen give way to pale white skin but as she watched each scale drop off onto the rock, she could not help but be filled with a strange sense of warmth. She was—she was doing this! She was finally mustering up the bravery!

It had taken her many tries yes, and more than a few false starts but…but perhaps…perhaps she could finally make it to shore today! She’d never gotten this far before after all and oh dear spirits what was that?!

Freezing like a trapped hare before a fox, Fayne tensed, muscles stiffening as she all but readied herself to plunge back into the lake, legs or not and oh—oh she had legs now! It was a pity she could not marvel on the pale flesh now, not when—oh—oh by the Lake there it was again! Face losing what little color it had left as a shout sounded out among the mists; Fayne shoved her body flat against the rock.

Heart beating a frantic staccato in her chest, the young undine gulped, forcing her face against the cool stone as her mind screamed at her. Swim—Flee—Escape—Call the Guardians—it was like a storm, frantic pleas warring with each other. And yet…and yet…

Arms trembling as she pushed herself back up, just so she could see over the top her current perch, Fayne gulped ,caution and terror warring with curiosity. It was hard to see the figure on the shoreline, thick as the mists were, but Fayne could at least catch glimpses enough that she could tell the figure was no Undine. There was a distinct lack of fins for one—though they were on land so perhaps….no—no! Shaking her head, Fayne chewed at her lip. No, it was no undine. The clothing they wore for one, for what little she could see of it, was not of Undine make. Leathers, perhaps and there was a…what was that? Pulling herself up higher, Fayne narrowed her eyes, squinting to see if she could make out the shape near the stranger’s feet.

Wobbling slightly and as high as her arms would let her get amongst the mists, Fayne felt her face turn green once she recognized the shape at the creature’s feet. A deer they had killed…oh. What were they…what were they going to do with it? Nose wrinkling, Fayne watched as the figure crouched at the shape’s—a deer, it was a deer, and by the looks of it a dead one—and began to do something. Thick as the mists were, she could not catch the full movement. Perhaps if she moved closer…

Inching forward again to see if she could get a better look, Fayne yelped as her fingers caught naught but air, no stone left for her to grab. It should not have been a loud noise, but against the all consuming quiet of the Lake shore it was almost on par with a shout. Hands flying to her mouth to prevent any other noise from escaping, Fayne froze, eyes wide as she kept her gaze locked upon the stranger on the shore. Perhaps…perhaps they had not heard? Daring just for a moment to hope, and when it seemed like the stranger had not moved, Fayne let herself relax inch by inch.

Only when she realized that the figure was straightening, gradual as it was, did she flinch back, eyes wider still. Scrambling on the rock and just barely managing to keep from falling back into the water and undoing all her hard work, Fayne gulped, pale eyes screwing shut as a shout rang through the air.

Heart virtually in her throat, Fayne flinched back a she caught sight of movement from the corner of her eyes and oh by the Lake it—he? that had been a man’s voice unless the surface dwellers were as different as the stories suggested-- was moving closer! This was—by he lake she was going to die! Trith would be—oh he’d be devastated and then she would be the talk of the lake, the girl who was stupid enough to get killed by a surface dweller and oh oh---perhaps—perhaps the venture to the surface could wait another day! Warring with going back into the water, the decision for Fayne was made as another shout sounded out, this one virtually a scream and much closer than before. "Gah!" Caught by surprise, Fayne was barely able to bite back a panicked yelp before she fell into the lake with a rather horrid splash. Feeling her hard won legs melt back into scales, Fayne fought back a panicked squeak.

Oh by Lake and Sea, the creature—he—it—had surely heard that!

- tag : Lachlan!
- notes : Fayne needs to work on her spying technique methinks
- words : 824
- music : ---
- outfit : do fins count?
- credit : template brought to you by The_Actress. lyrics from RIVER by LIGHTS!

[LACHLAN DUDLEY]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 440px; height: 600px; background-image: url(http://i382.photobucket.com/albums/oo265/wildgal123/0f63f6ec-3602-48ff-b63e-0e87ace9e9ca_zpse3b2f386.jpg); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius:100px 100px 100px 100px; border: 3px solid #ffffff;] A DYING SCREAM MAKES NO SOUND, CALLING OUT TO ALL THAT I’VE EVER KNOWN And he heard it. A gasp muted in the tickling breeze. Squinting through the swirling mist Lachlan surveyed the figure unable to discern if its movement was genuine or a trick upon his eyes. His throat stung with thirst as dehydration wormed through his flesh. A second strangled cry rolled in from the water followed by a splash. The smudged outline was gone, replaced by the rippling tides. Every muscle within his flesh grew taut. It was coming toward him. But what exactly was it? A razor-blade smile slit his lips. Chance had it that the creature was an undine. He had never fought one before. Fingers trailing the hilt of his sword Lachlan wondered if the undine battled strong. But his eyes searched in vain hunger for glittering scales but the fog thick as molasses; he had hoped the undine would come upon the shore, weapon in hand. Lachlan was not entirely fond of the water. But if it entailed a physical confrontation it would be well worth the discomfort. Besides, his tongued flicked cruelly, his boots were dirty anyway. Leaving the bloodied carcass on the beach he sauntered toward Laroona Lake. It smelled strongly of seaweed and the bridge of his nose creased in aversion; the scent sent his stomach rolling. Lachlan could only faintly recall having seen these waters once in his life, back when he slaved for a vast farmland that cultivated a harvest specifically for the royals. He hadn’t planned on a return, but fate never paid heed to personal considerations. He was not graceful and splashed in knee deep. The chilled liquid poured in over the rim of his boots, sinking them like lead. The clay at the bottom suctioned in his soles and Lachlan grunted; he had dealt with worse footing in the past, though not quite as uncomfortable. He loathed the sensation of the dampened leather brushing up against his skin, taken by the gentle current. It was like nails grating glass for Lachlan, and he could feel the hairs rise on the nape of his neck. Blinking he peered into the lake. Where was it? Lifting his sword Lachlan scooped the water aside with his free hand, glaring down with starving want. Had his ears deceived him?! Surely a strangled gasp and splash had been detected near where he currently stood. Chuckling beneath his breath Lachlan feigned ignorance and cupped a handful of water, drinking eagerly. He pretended to be absorbed in the act, though was genuinely grateful for the rushing relief to his inflamed throat. His thirst dwindled with his patience. Out of her corner of his peripheral vision Lachlan spotted the boulder; hadn’t the creature perched itself upon the rock? It couldn’t have swum too far, especially if its attention were locked on an attack. A wicked grin twisted his mouth. Finally he would see the combative skills of an undine; perhaps he would string a poetic lyric or two for the slain beast once he returned home. Anticipation boiled his blood hot, lighting up his features. Lachlan lurched forward with tactless haste as he made for the boulder. Beads of water spewed up, raining upon the surface and breaking the calm. Lachlan did not bother to hide his advance. His flared excitement drowned out all sense of logical and tactic, another reason of many that commanded his eventual dismissal from the military. His charge was slowed from the weight of the water. ‘Damn,’ he thought, his breathing hitched. ‘This ain’t easy. He managed to reached the rock and peered to the side. Nothing. That left the other direction and he had a gut feeling that this time he would not miss his goal. With measured speed, he slowly crept around to the rock’s opposite face. Tufts of matted hair stuck to his cheekbones blurring his vision, but Lachlan did notice. All his focus was honed in on the anticipated undine that swam beside his feet. His back stiffened, sword posed like a viper for the attack. The rush of adrenaline that bled through his veins was enough to make Lachlan sway in his tracks to the pounding within in his ears. The erratic thrumming made him mad for blood. It was a tickling feeling; one of the few things he truly enjoyed, and one of the only things he was good at. His life thrived on killing, ironic as it was. And few had ever dared take a sword from his hands. Lachlan was secretly reassured of this; the sheen of metal hacked into his life’s true purpose. He knew little of much else. And suddenly, his patience snapped. The frayed thread of sanity unraveled and Lachlan burst out from the rock letting out a wild cry, expecting to be met with gnashing teeth and bloodied scales. “Fight me!,” he roared, barely taking in the sight of opponent. there can be only one mikey! of caution 2.0

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[FAYNE UNDARIA]

O-Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear!

Heart in her throat, Fayne stared up at the glimmering sun above her, filtered only slightly be the water’s filmy surface. She was—she was going to die. Oh why couldn’t’ she get her fins to move?! This was---this was---and oh dear it was coming—she could—she could hear it splashing in the shallows!!!

If nothing else, that was enough to get Fayne moving even if it was only a twitch of her tail to send her further into the lake’s murky depths. Well, murky for human eyes—it was perfectly clear to her but technicalities aside—it—he—the creature—would not be able to see her here. Hopefully.

Pulse loud in her ears, Fayne gulped, body stiff as a board for all she couldn’t move it further. Really, this was—this was very stupid and she was going to die and Trith was going to be so upset and Devasted and oh dear oh dear oh dear---lavender eyes wide with panic, Fayne all bu froze as she caught the slightest hint of the surface dweller’s face between the surface. It was still too far to make out concrete details, but it was a better look than before. At the very least she could see he had two eyes and a nose and a mouth—oh dear what was he doing?!

Head cocking slightly as curioustity began to win over panic, Fayne flicked her fins, lavender eyes squiting upwards before her mouth parted into a small ‘o’. It was---what was the word the surface dwellers used…ah, yes! Drinking! It was drinking! How amazing! Watching wide eyed—this time with amazement (how strange—she’d never seen such a thing before!!) Fayne slowly inched forward, if a bit cautiously and freezing every other move or so. Still-it—it wasn’t like the creature was going to see her, was it? It—he, he—it was a he, or at least she thought it was—seemed very into what it was doing. Surely another small ripple in the water wasn’t going to catch its attention, right? At least---Fayne thought with a gulp as her hands wavered at her throat, she—she certainly hoped so.

Almost close enough that she could make out the slightest hint of—oh, what was the word? stubble? yes—yes that’s what the surface dwellers called that strange fuzz on their cheeks and chins—stubble on the creature’s chin, Fayne tilted her head. She almost wanted to reach up and touch it—it looked strange, and she’d certainly never seen such a thing. Undine after all, did not tend to grow hair anywhere than where it was supposed to be—that is on the crown of one’s head. To see it somewhere else was almost amazing. Would it hurt when she touch it? Would it feel like the prickly urchins you could find at the bottom of the lake? Hand inching forward of its own accord, Fayne all but flinched back as the creature looked up and a rather terrifying grin curved its way onto his mouth.

If the look on the surface dweller’s face wasn’t enough to cause her to jolt the way he suddenly moved forwards and splashed in the waters certainly was and before Fayne could even realize it she had moved back to the protective cover of the rock she’d been perching before. Back pressed against a crevise in the rock’s underside, Fayne gulped only to freeze as the sound of the splashing grew closer and closer and oh dear—oh dear he wasn’t coming here, was he?!

The mere thought alone was enough to make a panicked squeak erupt from her throat and oh dear she had known this was a bad idea!! She was going—she was going to die!! And no—no she wasn’t—she wasn’t going to go out like this!!! If---if she was going to die it was going to be with a bang!!! Not—not skewered on the end of some strange metal stick like a fish!

Stomach practically in her throat, Fayne trembled, eyes fearfully wide before she finally set her jaw. She was---she was going to do this! She was—she as the sister of Trith and they—and they would sing songs about her for years! How she, how she—the timid younger sister of a great guardian—had managed to beat off a terrible surface dweller! Of how she had managed to shove him away and then and then—gotten skewered on that end of the strange metal spear!!!!

Scrambling out of the crevice just as the creature burst from the rock with a wild cry, Fayne felt all of her bravery go out of the window—her only thought on getting out—getting away from the strange beast! Too panicked to realize which way was which in her mad dash to get out from beneath the rock, Fayne felt her heart all but leap into her throat as she felt the sharp scrape of sand on her belly.

Somehow, in her panic, she’d managed to go the absolute opposite way and had ended up nearly shored instead and oh dear oh dear, by the lake—by the lake and sea and oh dear spirits she was going to die!!!. Face white, fins moving uselessly against the sand and eyes the size of her brother’s shields, Fayne squeaked, “hello.”

In retrospect it had been a very, very bad idea to come to the surface after all.

- tag : Lachlan
- notes : and they finally meet face to face!
- words : 927
- music : n/a
- outfit : idek--scales?
- credit : template brought to you by The_Actress. lyrics from RIVER by LIGHTS!

[LACHLAN DUDLEY]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 440px; height: 600px; background-image: url(http://i382.photobucket.com/albums/oo265/wildgal123/0f63f6ec-3602-48ff-b63e-0e87ace9e9ca_zpse3b2f386.jpg); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius:100px 100px 100px 100px; border: 3px solid #ffffff;] A DYING SCREAM MAKES NO SOUND, CALLING OUT TO ALL THAT I’VE EVER KNOWN There was a vague shimmer beneath the water. Lines of miserable disorientation twisted Lachlan’s features and the man’s neck craned slowly towards the shoreline. Bullets of liquid shot out from his turning limbs. How could it escape him again?! “Quit movin!” Lachlan howled, eliciting an animalistic snarl. His lungs threatened to burst with the pent-up rage swirling within. Uttering a guttural cry he dashed towards the beach spraying up lake foam in every which direction. His long, dark tresses billowed back; the front strands plastered to his neck and face. A hot blush boiled beneath his cheeks. Within the water Lachlan was inept; he knew this and despite it had charged within hoping for a fight. His patience evaporated with the mist and the savage within commanded control, and Lachlan would willingly give him every bit of it. Running, rather pathetically sloshing through the waist-deep water, Lachlan laughed; the manic barks echoed out through the crisp air in sharp waves of sound. The undine had gone toward land where he was strongest. Oh, it was surely goading him. Perhaps it was stronger than he had originally imagined. The sheer thought made his mouth salivate. Nothing was better than a fight to the death! Then he saw it-or her. Blade raised high above his head the tip had just begun it’s deadly decent when Lachlan took note of her pale body. Instantly his arms froze. The sun’s rays bled out between the encircling haze and her thrashing fin gleamed. She had no weapon of her own to parry his blow. Striking her would be a dishonor even he could not bear. His fingers wrapped tightly around his sword’s hilt as the realization dawned upon him. Lachlan screamed thrusting the blade into the sand; the metal gave a wavering hum as it sliced through the air. Breathing heavy, his temples glistening with sweat, he gaped at the female undine beached before him. A chord of pity played within him. She was stuck halfway between water and land. He leaned over, calloused hands outstretched, in effort to pull her back into the depths but realized quickly that after his rabid tantrum she was more than likely scared stiff. He pulled back. With a rough swipe of his fingers Lachlan rid his face of any loose strands and glared down upon her. His lower lip swelled into a childish pout. His muscles ached for the kiss of a sword. The built up tension within had given way to sore fatigue and he was remorseful of the waste of energy. He wouldn’t give her his sympathy, or at least he wouldn’t show it. “Go on,” he spat, ushering her back to the lake. “I ain’t gonna touch ya.” Lachlan folded his arms across his chest, boots squelching beneath his weight. They were soaked and he could feel his toes wrinkle and prune. It sent a shiver down his spine. Drumming sausage-like fingers along his forearm Lachlan tilted his gaze up towards the sky, squinting in the brilliant light. A few seconds passed. What a disappointment. He had never laid eyes on an undine before and the moment he gets to meet one it doesn’t have a sword; he wouldn’t even fight the creature with his bare hands. Lachlan didn’t fight women; unless, of course, they were established warriors or challenged him first. Then it was game on. But he was indeed interested regardless of the supposed let down. She seemed young, not quite a girl though. Her skin was pure white, as was her hair, but her lavender eyes stuck out through the snow. Lachlan felt his stare slowly droop and settle on her terrified figure and his frown eased up a bit. He wondered if all undine were so devoid of color. He peered down at his shoulder and arched a brow. His skin was like tanned leather. He speculated that she spent most of her time far beneath the surface where sunlight was scarce. Putting up his hands in a sign of peaceful intent Lachlan leisurely stepped close and lowered himself to the ground, crouching next to her. His knees popped and a vague flash of pain erupted across his features. It was brief and passed quick, but a whispered cuss slipped between his lips. At a closer range it was startling just how exotic her features were. Her fin was the most fascinating with its ashen scales sparkling in the late afternoon sun. He rested on arm on his knee and one hand on the clay shore. His expression was stern, demanding authority, but he could not keep the spark of interest from glinting within his eyes. Never had he encountered any being like her. Lachlan sniffed. Now what was he supposed to do? He supposed he should try and calm the lady but how the devil was he supposed to do that after nearly running her through? Shame flushed the fatty padding of his cheeks. “You need help or somethin?” Lachlan scratched at his chin. The stubble itched the flesh beneath his nails. He tried to make his voice sound soft, tried to make it less raspy and more soothing. But his words were inflicted with a scratched placidness. His right hand drifted along the clay tracing circles. He felt incredibly awkward. Clearing his throat in a cough, Lachlan offered again, “Er…you gonna dry out, or can I drag ya back in? Don’t really matter.” He nodded clumsily, staring just above her head. there can be only one mikey! of caution 2.0

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[FAYNE UNDARIA]

Oh by the lake this was it—sh-she was going to die!

Already her life was flashing before her eyes—everything from the smiling faces of her parents to the time she’d accidentally spelled her own hair a fluorescent green—bright enough to spot even in the dark murky waters of the lake. Oh she’d been so embarrassed—hadn’t left her quarters for an entire week, but none of that mattered now—not with the strange metal spear bearing down on her.

Too terrified to even blink let alone flinch back or shut her eyes, Fayne could only give a garbled yelp as the creature averted its strange spear at the last minute whilst giving a loud scream. Too stunned to even whimper, Fayne slowly tilted her head to the side, staring at the sharp object impaled in the sand not too far from her head before turning to direct her wide eyes gaze towards the panting surface dweller who seemed to be returning the favor in kind.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if that meeting the surface dwellers eyes was enough to shock her back into her senses and with a terrified whimper, Fayne scuttled back—or at least tried. Back flat against the sand from where she’d managed to turn herself off of her stomach, she couldn’t do much than flop uselessly about and oh by the lake this would be so much easier if she had legs! Falling back with a defeated slump as she barely managed to move an inch, her fins only having gotten covered in the shifting sand, Fayne turned her face back with trembling lips and what she certainly hoped was a rebellious stare (that being said, she looked more like a frightened rabbit, timid and shaking, than the dignified resistance she so desperately wanted to convey). Speechless and trembling as her mouth worked soundless to try and form words, Fayne blinked as the surface dweller—it did seem to be male after all—extended his hand towards her before pulling back, almost as if he’d thought better of it.

All but jumping at the sound of his voice as he spat at her, Fayne shoved herself back onto her arms as he tried to usher her back towards the lake. Still locked somewhat uselessly on the sand and fins tangled into the muck so that the only way she could move was up towards the shore rather than back towards the safe waters of the lake, Fayne gulped as the creature seemed to come to a conclusion, his gaze haven risen to the sky before dropping back down.

Flinching slightly as the creature—was it a human? it certainly didn’t look like a dragon—maybe an elf?—pinned its eyes on her, Fayne gulped anew before frowning slightly as the surface dweller turned slightly to peer at the skin of its own shoulder. Leaning forward despite herself as curiosity won out over fear and reason, Fayne tried to prop herself up as best she could. The creature was darker than she, yes, but that was not so strange—there was many an undine with colors darker than hers, and it would see fit that the surface dwellers followed suit. Lost in her musings, Fayne jerked back as the creature moved anew, putting his hands in the air before stepping close and lowing himself to the ground.

Eying him as warily as she could, Fayne blinked before frowning in concern as a flash of pain flashed across his face the moment he crouched down. Concern warring with caution—he did after all, nearly kill her—Fayne glanced nervously to the side before biting her lip while filing the word he’d uttered into her mind for later perusal. It had sounded so strange and so unique! Still—the creature had appeared to be in pain for a passing moment and perhaps…perhaps if she appeared friendly it would not try to kill her again. “…a-are you hurt? I—I can…” trailing off useless as she lifted her hand from the water and made a vague gesture that she hoped would convey the fact she had some skill in healing.

Staring up at him uncertainly—it did not seem to want to kill her for the moment, but one could never be too sure—Fayne wet her lips, eyes narrowing in confusion as the surface dweller seemed to decide that it was done staring.

Jerking at the sound of his voice, Fayne blinked as she realized what it was asking. “H-help?” she parroted, this time more confused than terrified though a reedy warble still remained in her voice. About to try and attempt a question of just what exactly the creature meant by that, Fayne all but froze as she watched him scratch at the stubble on his jaw, fingers scraping against the bristly hairs. Mouth agape as curiosity overwhelmed her, Fayne was only half aware of the surface dweller trying to soften his voice and clearing his throat before saying something again and finishing with a clumsy nod.

It was only whenever a silence passed for a good thirty seconds, that Fayne realized she should speak or at least attempt to reply. And oh—oh by the lake she should have been paying attention! Cheeks red and eyes wide, Fayne spluttered for a few moments, trying to come up with words before she finally managed to get out a simple and stuttered, “P-pardon?”

- tag : Lachlan!
- notes : So apparently Fayne likes stubble. Who knew.
- words : 907
- music : ---
- outfit : finssss
- credit : template brought to you by The_Actress. lyrics from RIVER by LIGHTS!

[LACHLAN DUDLEY]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:5px; padding-top:5px; padding-right:5px; padding-bottom:5px; background-color: #575757; border-radius: 100px 0px 100px 0px;] LACHLAN DUDLEY "Im nothing more than a chalk outline" Lachlan scrunched his nose as she offered him her aid. For a brief moment he was puzzled, unsure why she was displaying such guarded concern-had he not tried to skewer her just minutes before? He looked away as her kindness dealt a softened blow to his pride. Who would ever heal their assailant after avoiding death’s eternal kiss? It made his head spin. No creature he had ever spared, few in number as they were, had ever acted in such a fashion. Normally they just wailed obscenities for his rash impulses. It made his skin prickle beneath the collar. The discomfort wormed upwards from the tip of his toes into the fleshy pads of his cheeks, boiling the blood beneath to a ruddy hue. His thick brows knitted and Lachlan dared a glance out of the corner of his eyes. He caught her gesture and was stunned. A puff of air escaped between his pursed lips. In all honesty he wasn’t hurt at all. Yet she was entirely ready to help him. ”It’s nothin,” he rumbled, turning away. ”Just a pop is all.” It was nothing but a friendly reminder of an accident long ago, aggravating as it could be. A cold smile cracked his lips. “Is it wise to help me girl?” But his coy aggression depleted immediately at the emotion etched within her features. Her eyes seemed to waver with a confusion that mirrored his own. Lachlan cleared his throat and felt his jawline grow taut. He had to think a moment. Scratching at his scalp he came off of his knees and sat cross legged in the damp sand. With an elbow resting on each knee he leaned in and tried to avert her stare, not wanting to further stress her. Instead he focused on the lapping waters and gave a twitch of his head, attempting a signal to indicate his meaning. She had been silent for a bit before uttering a pardon. It was not often that he ‘aided’ others, Lachlan was not a contributing member of society; his sole duty was to swing the axe when ordered. It wasn’t anything glorifying but kept him free and out of prison. For exceptional executions he was given side payments; he liked those better than the golden coins. Lachlan made to speak but his mouth hung loosely on its hinges and he promptly shut it, for once in his life. His tongue flicked at the back of his teeth. Nodding along at her words, Lachlan sniffed. ”Yeah, help. I ain’t stumblin or somethin am I?” With his arms he gestured towards her fin, hooking his fingers on the air as if grasping the lower appendage, before giving a heave in towards his chest and throwing his arms out towards the lake. He blinked. Somewhere above the mist a bird crooned a melody, its body a feeble, circling shadow. Particles of sand caught in his stubble, irritating the skin. Grumpily he tried to scratch them away, digging his nails deep. A pink hue blossomed beneath. ”Hell…” he snarled. Lachlan wondered if the men of the water had such problems; or were they all clean shaven to avoid such an irksome catastrophe. Or maybe the undine did not venture to the surface often? He was ignorant to their customs and lifestyle. Lachlan focused only with those who stood before him. But now that she lay beside him, his curiosity peaked. If she fully pulled herself to shore would she sprout legs? Or would she die? Lachlan was not too sure he wanted to find out. Realizing he himself had fallen silent for a spell Lachlan flashed a smile, or what he was capable of and bared his teeth like a dog. Sighing, he asked in a gravelly voice, “So…you got a name?” It seemed an obvious question. It wasn’t laced with malice or prodding intent; just a basic inquiry. Yes. That was good. Perhaps he could figure the creature out a bit and then be able to push her from his mind. It was a brilliant idea. Wasn’t it? Lachlan bit down on his lower lip as it dawned upon him that he may have placed her on the spot. Quickly backtracking, not wanting to frighten her, he spewed, ”The name’s Lachlan; a human, obviously.” His eyes peered up at the swirling haze. ”I mean ya no harm. I swear it.” He awkwardly raised his right hand to signify a truce; he hoped she would understand though felt it still may not calm her down entirely. It was understandable. He had acted rather bearish. But that was just who he was; a brute. Lachlan liked women but they did not like him; too much of a boar so they said. Waiting for her answer Lachlan hummed softly to himself; it was an old tune instilled within his brain through his time as a slave. It was a catchy tune, soft but strong. It motivated both mind and body. Tags: Fayne! | Words: -- | Credit: 156zcm of Caution Notes: he just wants to play

[FAYNE UNDARIA]

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[atrb=vAlign,top] words 000 · tags Lachlan~ · notes awkward Fayne is awkward Feeling the muscles in her arm begin to tremble from the strain of keeping it extended for so long, Fayne slowly let her hand drop back to her side with a nervous look towards the surface dweller. “O-oh. I-if you say so?” And my, she sounded sure of herself, didn’t she? Fighting the urge to wince at just how weak her voice sounded, Fayne at least tried to content herself with the fact that with a voice that feeble sounding the creature at least wouldn’t think she was a threat. Of course, she thought as she turned a bit green at the gills, it might mean he might think she was prey again. And o-oh dear, what if it meant to eat her and---face growing rapidly paler even as she tried to not so subtly scoot to the side, Fayne froze like rabbit pinned by a fox as a cold smile cracked its way onto the man’s lips. Blinking slowly as she comprehended the question, Fayne gulped. “W-well…” she started, “Th-that is…” and well. It wasn’t smart was it? Not really. It definitely wasn’t wise…b-but she couldn’t…he had looked pained and….previous thoughts about being eaten all but forgotten, Fayne spluttered a few more half broken syllables before she finally settled on a halfhearted shrug and a confused look. How to best to explain that she thought helping him might keep her from getting killed? There wasn’t one, really. Stuck with staring at him with a mix of apprehension, curiosity and fear, Fayne blinked as the creature tried to avert her stare. Was she—was she making him uncomfortable? B-but why? She hadn’t—hadn’t said anything rude had she? No-no, she would have known if she had yes? B-but what if the ways of whatever…whatever this creature was were different tan an undines? What if she—what if she had horribly offended him and—and oh dear. This…this wasn’t good. Falling silent again, Fayne stared down at the tips of her fins just barely visible from beneath the sand covering them. Was it wrong for her to have tried to help him? Was---was it a great offense for—for—whatever he was? Biting her lip and quite ready to open her mouth and apologize—if only because she wasn’t quite sure how she’d offended him—Fayne started as Lachlan sniffed. Eyes wide and heart beating frantically in her chest, the young undine quickly shook her head. “I—Um---n-no stumbling—I er, that is y-you weren’t!” And by the spirits why did her voice have to sound so squeaky?! Cheeks flushing from sheer embarrassment as struggled with her wayward tongue, Fayne promptly clamped her mouth shut lest she make a further fool of herself. Of course, she couldn’t help but snort despite herself at the sudden pantomiming the creature was doing. Clamping her hands over her mouth less another sound escape, she quickly lost her train of thought as she watched the creature scrape his nails through the scruff on his chin. Hands dropping from her mouth as she watched, enamored as curiosity finally won out over both embarrassment and caution, Fayne watched open mouthed as particles of sand dropped from the man’s beard due to the constant scratching. Amazing! Had they been caught in there or was it like—was it like shedding? She didn’t think he was made of sand so the first choice was the most likely but one could never be too sure. Leaning forward despite herself in an attempt to get a better look and blinking as she saw the pink lines left in the wake of the man’s nails, Fayne cocked her head to the side and could only hope her none-too-subtle gawking was less apparent than it actually was. Starting anew as the creature bared his teeth—smiling, was he smiling? He certainly wasn’t growling—Fayne returned the gesture a bit nervously and hoped she didn’t look as thrown as she felt. Really—this was—this was all so strange but at the very least it didn’t seem like it was trying to kill her again. Unless of course baring one’s teeth (smiling, it had been smiling, right?) was a gesture of harm among his kind. Paling a bit at the thought, Fayne quickly shoved the idea away. A smile—it had been a smile. She was sure of it. Hopefully. Lips twitching weakly upwards as the smile on her face wavered at the question of a name, Fayne slowly nodded her head. “Ah—um…yes?” All creatures had names, didn’t they? Unless of course his kind didn’t but then how did they identify each other? Did they simply refer to each other by gender or by hair color? But then that would count as a name wouldn’t it and oh dear this was so complicated, perhaps it would be best to ask—Fayne jerked backwards slightly as the man spewed forth a name and—oh! Oh, so he was a human! That—that certainly made things easier. Now she didn’t have to refer to him as a creature, and she knew for a fact that humans had names. Of course, he had just given her his but still—still, it certainly did help matters. Her books after all, had mentioned humans even if they had been a bit vague in the descriptions. And, and she’d heard some of the other water maidens mention them—the one’s who hadn’t opted to stay on land that is. “L-Lachlan. That is… a nice name.” Testing the name on her tongue, Fayne slowly nodded her head as the creature—human, he was human!- swore he meant her no harm and well, that—that was good wasn’t it? Now she didn’t have to worry about whether or not he was going to kill her! Considerably brightened but no less cautious—he didn’t seem like he was lying but one could never be too sure—Fayne glanced at the upraised right hand before taking it gingerly in her own. That—that was what you were supposed to do, yes? It was a human greeting—she was sure. Well, either that or an elf one but-but well…if she was wrong she could simply blame ignorance yes? “F-Fayne. M-m-my name is Fayne.” Smiling weakly and hoping to the Lady of the Lake and beyond that the human hadn’t caught the stutter (he had though, of course he had, he had to) Fayne wet her lips before biting down on her bottom one. Finger still clutched around the human’s awkwardly (she wasn’t quite sure of when to let go) she gave the man another shaky smile before blinking at the sound of a soft humming. Mouth parting into a small ‘o’ as she unconsciously attempted to pull herself closer towards the sound if only so she could hear it better, Fayne tilted her head in wonder. “I have never heard that song before! Tell me, what—what is it called?” Eyes wide with curiosity from where they were locked on Lachlan’s lips as if by watching the movements she could memorize the song itself as she mimicked the soft noise, Fayne blinked before looking back into his eyes, woefully honest. “It is a very pretty tune.” template by john of ote & btn

[LACHLAN DUDLEY]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:5px; padding-top:5px; padding-right:5px; padding-bottom:5px; background-color: #575757; border-radius: 100px 0px 100px 0px;] LACHLAN DUDLEY "Im nothing more than a chalk outline" The sand crusted between his toes. Lachlan gave a curt grunt at the awkwardness laced between her syllables-she was so uncertain of everything. Then again he had attempted to skewer her through with a sword. That sort of thing never made a decent introduction. With a stiff pull Lachlan tugged off his right boot and turned it upside down, watching as the sand poured out. He repeated the motion with his left before proceeding to remove his socks. The wool was dampened with lake water and held a heavy discomfort. His back heated with sun. Frustrated and overcome with warmth, he cursed and threw aside the footwear. It splashed the water's edge spooking a school of minows. Flecks of water coated his skin and Lachlan felt a short moment of relief. Were Undine affected by the heat-or was the direct sunlight more an issue, perhaps neither were a bother? It was his first encounter with such a creature and as time unraveled it grew only more baffling. All he had to do was blink and she startled. He was unsure if she would ever be at ease around him. However, most were not. But that also had to do with his axe. Shifting position in the sand Lachlan stretched out his legs, the knee cap giving yet another pop. He winced but caught her eye and attempted a second smile-less teeth were bared and a dimple formed above the right corner of his mouth. His smirk widened with pride. Aha! Practice made perfect. Feeling all the more rude, Lachlan could not peel his gaze from her fin barely concealed beneath the sand. How the devil did she move around with that thing? Could she feel with it? He gave a shake of his head, clearing away the thoughts. She was obviously a living being, naturally she could feel and move with a fin. Thinking she couldn't was overly ridiculous. She was the same as him. Except she lived in water and he on land. Completely and utterly the same. Somewhat, if you excluded the scales. When she finished her minor stammer Lachlan tilted his head upwards, eyes narrowed with guilt from staring. He noted the ruddy hue within her cheeks. Was she hot? Was the lack of water causing her discomfort? Unconsciously he reached towards her to feel the blush. The back of Lachlan's calloused hand brushed against her cheek. Perhaps it was just embarrassment. Withdrawing his hand, he muttered beneath his breath, "Sorry." It was low and clipped, but he hoped not to frighten her more by the touch. It was a bit funny how she clamped her hands to her mouth. Scratching at his chin Lachlan gave a snort-she was a peculiar creature. He had never met anyone-regardless of race-so shy. It was strange for his blunt demeanor to wrap around. The particles of sand wedged between his whiskers itched. Ventures to any form of beach was rare because he hated the sand. It placed itself in every corner of one's body and refused to leave without a fight. But he was thirsty from the hunt and the lake was only too near. In fact, there were few by this source of water. Why was that again? With his nails, he continued to scrape at the stubble. There was some sort of legend surrounding these waters. Should he ask her? Would she know what the surface-dwellers say? Possibly. And possibly not. He blinked, suddenly drawn from his ponderings. She had leaned forward to gaze at his-was she looking at his chin? He stopped scratching, lowering his hand. "Sand itches," Lachlan grumbled in explanation. Head bowed, he quit prodding the irritated skin and drew a circle in the sand. He peered up beneath dark lashes with a childish smirk. His thumb pushed farther into the ground wedging the particles beneath the nail's tip. Fayne. The Undine-the young woman and former creature-had a name after all. Satisfied amusement curled the corners of his lips. "Fayne, hm?" he sighed, retracting his circling thumb. "Not too girly, but enough so." Interlocking his fingers on the back of his skull, Lachlan leaned backwards and sprawled out across the shoreline. His roughened palms made for an uncomfortable pillow but he could not have cared less. "So Fayne, you ever been to the surface? Cause' to me it doesn't seem like it. You're pale as a ghost." The comment was not intended as offensive but merely a blunt observation. He stretched a finger lazily to the sky. "That sun will bake ya'." A gust of wind tickled the edge of his nose. Lachlan sniffed, resisting the urge to sneeze. It passed after a second's sniffling and he wiped away a grain of sand from his eye. It stung a little, leaving a small trail of liquid. The haze surrounding the water seemed to clear allowing the tendrils of sunlight to filter through and heat the flesh. It seemed a long lost comfort. Shielding his eyes from the sunlight, Lachlan peered towards Fayne through the cracks of his fingers. She liked the tune? He thought for a moment, turning over multiple verses. He could recite the lyrics with ease but give an actual name-was there even one? Lachlan was not certain and couldn't recall anyone ever mentioning its specific title. It was simply sung. He wiggled into the bed of sand and closed his lids, tongue flicking the back of his teeth. Sucking in a breath he answered her. "I don't know it's name. Probably doesn't have one. It's just something that was sung to pass the time. Never gave it much thought." Regardless, he was somewhat pleased that she had liked it. Most did not give a care either way for it-just background noise. It was a tune to motivate the fatigued. Nothing more and nothing less, catchy though it was. Lachlan licked his lips. The warmth had begun to dry them. Fayne seemed innocently curious, like a toddler taking its first steps. Had she walked before? Lachlan vaguely recalled the little information he knew of Undines-once on land legs were sprouted, right? Or was that just another myth? He grunted, annoyed by his ignorance. Hell if he knew anything. Tags: Fayne! | Words: 1053 | Credit: 156zcm of Caution Notes: forgive the typos, I currently don't have word/just skim-proofed <3

[FAYNE UNDARIA]

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[atrb=vAlign,top] words 1055 · tags Lachlan~ · notes ---- Nodding slowly, Fayne visible perked as he repeated her name. His words were strange—was it common of surface dwellers to comment on a person’s naming?—but they sounded vaguely complimentary. Unless… Fayne’s brow drew and she glanced surreptitiously upwards, he was calling her name masculine. True it wasn’t the most maidenly of namesakes but it was—it was and no! Shaking her head subtly to dispel the nagging thoughts threatening to swarm with a wrinkled frown, Fayne set her jaw. It was a compliment. It had to be. After all, besides trying to spear her through with his strange metal…thing…the surface dweller had been perfectly congenial—if a bit gruff. But perhaps that was the way of surface dwellers, yes? “Th-thank you?” Shimmying forward a bit as best her fins would allow her, Fayne tilted her head at the human, expression more inquisitive than cautious as her curious nature won out of her previous trepidation. Besides, the human—he was human, she could definitely tell that now even if she did get a slight sense of something else from the creature—hadn’t tried to hurt her again. Even if he had touched her face. Raising her hand slightly to brush her cheek—still ruddy from embarrassment unfortunately—Fayne cocked her head again, brow wrinkling in thought. Perhaps it was a surface dweller greeting? Or—or—eyes darting back towards the scruff dotting Lachlan’s jaw, Fayne’s eyes lit up with realization! Ah! Perhaps he was trying to figure out why her face held none of the—none of the—stubble?! That—that had to be it! Perhaps then, the human would not mind her reaching up to test the feel of it for herself? And oh-oh—he was speaking again! OR sniffling. What a strange sound that was! Fighting the urge to mimic the noise herself, Fayne paused before she blinked in realization, chinks pinking further as she realized the words the human had spoken earlier—something about a ghost, but why would he be comparing her to a dead spirit?—had been directed towards her. And of course, why wouldn’t they be? Clearing her throat and hoping her momentarily lapse in thought wouldn’t be too noticed, Fayne inclined her head, the picture of contrite even if her mind traitorously whispered that she looked more like terrified than apologetic. “Ah yes—that is—this is my first time! I have never---n-…” Ah. Perhaps it was best not to mention that she had only just managed to muster up the bravery. Cutting herself off mid-word, Fayne shrugged helplessly before blurting out the first topic her mind came to. “A-A ghost? They are white as well? Have you seen one? A-and the sun! It can bake people!?” Voice wavering slightly as she darted a look up towards the sky, Fayne paused before she frowned. “I…I did not know it had the ability to do such a thing.” Pausing to stare down her arm, Fayne stared at the pale skin with a frown. Strange. She did not feel as if she were baking. Perhaps it was a surface dweller thing? Ah! But then again, she was new to the surface. “…this baking…how does it feel? I—I—don’t feel very much like a---“ Oh what had the word been, the thing she’d learned that surface dwellers had enjoyed—“A cake or a pastry.” Eyes glued to her arm in the hope’s she’d see the skin attempt to bake, Fayne nearly missed the surface dweller shielding his eyes from the sunlight. Diverting her gaze to follow his movements—strange, how was he supposed to see between the gaps in his fingers—Fayne blinked “Ah…” Curiosity falling to the wayside at the admission, Fayne paused before looking down at the tips of her fins. A song without a name? How strange! All of the Undine songs had names—even silly ones like the Seaweed Ditty (used when harvesting the various plants at the bottom of the lake). It was almost sad really—but perhaps—features lighting up again, Fayne fidgeted with her fingers before giving Lachlan a cautious but no less bright look. “Then perhaps-p-perhaps you should name it! It must—must be sad to not have a name. Unless—unless of course that is, that is how your people react. Er—I mean—that is how---unless not all of your songs have names. That is.” And oh dear spirits, perhaps it was best she kept her mouth shut from now on lest she embarrass herself further. Cheeks red as she resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands before she said something else mortifying, Fayne gulped and then tried to regain her bearings. “I--that is—I am sure the song must be sad to not have a name. Undine songs have names you know—we have the Sea Ditty, the Lake Ditty, the Calling song, the Testing song...” Ticking the names on her fingers as her need for information won out over embarrassment, Fayne cleared her throat even though she kept her gaze firmly glued to the shimmering lake before she frowned. And oh dear—hopefully the creature—Lachlan, his name was Lachlan, why did she keep forgetting that?—wouldn’t think she was trying to force him to name it. “Of course—you don’t—you don’t have to name it. Songs don’t have f-feelings after all. Not even Undine songs. Or Surface songs. Or they do and I don’t know and---“ ah. Shutting her jaw with a clack in an effort to stop any more word-vomit from spilling forth, Fayne felt her face redden once more. Oh dear. Yes. That—that required a subject change. Alright. No more prattling on about songs and their existent or nonexistent (though Fayne truly believed that they were of the former) feelings. Think of something new—think of something new! Eyes darting around as best they could with her face lowered from sheer mortification, Fayne glanced at the shore! And that! That! “E—er—if you would not mind-- please help me on shore!” Alright. So it was abrupt. More than a bit abrupt really but—but it was better than the whole spiel about songs. And she had been polite. That was what counted. Right? template by john of ote & btn

[LACHLAN DUDLEY]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:5px; padding-top:5px; padding-right:5px; padding-bottom:5px; background-color: #575757; border-radius: 100px 0px 100px 0px;] LACHLAN DUDLEY "Im nothing more than a chalk outline" A pink dust coated her cheeks, spreading across the skin. Her features were twisted in a mixture of panic and remorse, a combination Lachlan was all too familiar with. Lachlan witnessed it often etched into the lines of those upon the gallows, ashen faces gaunt and stretched far too tight. Internal sentiments had aged the near-dead seemingly decades. Even the innocent parted the world in guilt. Times were mad. And the number imprisoned within the dungeons mounted by the day. Silence was a luxury long since passed. He loathed the sniffing moans that elicited tendrils of pity within his core. Dirtied faces smeared by salt-filled tears that appeared to endlessly pool onto the floor. Drip. Drip Drip. The softened drops drove him in a rage. Someone would slip, he was quite certain, and he’d get his ass whipped for an accusation of abusing the king’s wailing jailbirds. It was his loyal duty to whack the heads of criminals-a sickened game Lachlan found himself enjoying less and less. He liked kissing death-being so near the fatal edge, but executing those of no or petty crimes held little honor. Where did his pride now hide? The whispered answer billowing out from the undine’s parted lips barely held his notice. The inner ear tickled and Lachlan briefly caught her words. ”It’s fine to admit-it was hardly a secret. I promised ya that I meant no harm, got that? I just got a mean mug is all.” He cracked a goofy grin. Lachlan sucked in a lungful of breath. Did nothing haunt the bottom of the lake? Throughout his youth he had heard various tales of forbidding spirits-but perhaps rumor was no more than ignorant babble. ”Hell if I know, never encountered a ghost before. Heard you see right through em’.” In truth it was somewhat of a surprise considering how often Lachlan encountered death and the various lives his blade had stolen. But then again, he was just following orders-though if he refused his duties, who else would ascend to the axe? No sane man dared take such a weapon from him. He took in Fayne’s shrug. She then inquired of the sun and the exact definition of ‘baking.’ A tremor of a smile shook his lips. Lachlan’s head dipped back as a great laugh burst forth form his opened mouth. He barked up at the sun. Of all the things. It was not his intention to be rude, but he could not help himself. His sharp guffaws echoed out through the air in piercing waves. Attempting to gather himself he pressed a hand to his brow, as if to wipe away the laugh lines. ”You’re made of meat and bone, not sweetened batter.” The breath wheezed out from his chest. The sun stings flesh; makes it redden with blisters if ya dawdle too long in it.” Oh this was much too fun. ”Seven devils,” he chuckled, beginning to calm. Attempting a more serious expression, and failing miserably, Lachlan explained, ”It hurts, not like a gash or bruise. It’s hot and can scar if it’s bad enough.” Hoping not to frighten her off from his descriptions the man flicked his wrist dismissively. “But that bad of a burn ain’t common; only thick-skulled clods shillyshally that long in the sunlight.” ”Huh?” he spluttered. Name the song? Hard as he tried Lachlan could not recall its original title-a part of him doubted it had ever been given an official one. Prodding a finger into the sand’s depth Lachlan dug out a small hole, racking his brain for thought. ”I guess you could call it Misty Mountain, it’s got an eerily catchy hymn about it.” He scratched at his chin. ”What do you think?” Tilting his head a few degrees to the left, he heaved a sigh. ”I suppose not all have names. There are many nameless things in this realm.” He cast a glance towards Fayne purposefully pulling together a front of mystery-her questions pleased him, they made him feel intelligent and empowered. ”Sad song?” he rasped, deep undertones curling enquiringly. ”They’re just bloody words, they don’t have feelings.” Fayne’s last statement took him pleasantly by surprise. She was sweeter than a freshly baked pie; she cared for the feelings of a song. He shot her an amused grin. So she knew songs were simply hummed words-it was still an interesting thought as some believed music was a form of magic beyond all others. Lachlan merely hummed a tune when bored or relaxed, he never put any thought into it. Not anymore, at least. And there was that familiar red blush. He could not stifle a small chortle before saying, ”Don’t be so bashful, there’s no need. Say what you want and damn the rest, hm?” A soft breeze picked up tickling his eyes with strands of hair. He blinked them away, watching her. At her sudden inquiry Lachlan’s brow shot up in mild surprise-she had boldly asked for a favor, though continued about it with her eerie politeness. ”Ah." Awkwardly he stood, arms outstretched above her. Where was he to grab? Clearing his throat with a mild grunt he clumsily wiggled his fingers reaching out for her. Give me your hands,” he said uneasily, ”please.” Lachlan peered down unsure if he should grab and pull Fayne to shore or if she would be too flustered if he picked her up bridal shower and carried her. Most women didn’t appreciate his touch. Tags: Fayne! | Words: --- | Credit: 156zcm of Caution Notes: Lachlan’s song by Richard Armitage <3 He’s such an awkward duckling.