open//a pocket full of spears

[LAYLA SHADOWBLADE .]

why promises are snapped in two, and words are made to bend .

It was getting dark faster than she had expected it to. Somehow witch hunting had been easier before she was married. It was less rushed, less secretive, and less exhausting before. She replaced her steel dagger back into its pouch at her hip, as she stood over the witch's body. The Witch of the Widow’s Watch was dead. That was good, but she was concerned that she may not make it home before her husband returned from the tavern after an evening with his friend. She had never snuck out while her husband was home, but the steward would not wait a fortnight for the witch to be handled. Layla refused to be responsible for the death of an amature. Adventurers and less specialised hunters would only get themselves into trouble. Most of them went in with no knowledge of defensive magic  and ended up getting themselves toasted by the first fireball the witch threw. Her skills were clearly a little rusty. It had been one witch, and she was exhausted. She groaned leaning on the opposite wall as she sank down to the stone floor, one hand on the slight swell of her stomach. The dead witch was not her cleanest work. She was grateful that she had traveled out alone. To have that whole mess witnessed would have been embarrassing.  There was more blood on her leather armor than she prefered to travel with. She would not have time to clean it out when she arrived at their home. It would get dried once it was hidden and be a terrible pain to get out. Her stomach turned at the thought, or perhaps her child disagreed with his mother's occupation or just disagreed with the fact that his mother was lying to his father about having spent the day with one of her friends in the city. Taros was really out drinking with a companion and Layla was out killing witches, despite what she may have said. But she needed to get home, before her husband found that she was missing. With a deep breath and leaning heavily on the wall, she pulled herself back to her feet. It was not a short hike back to Solitude and it was mostly uphill. She was not looking forward to the trip, especially as she was rapidly losing light. She had no desire to trip in the dark and injure herself falling. She was familiar enough with the roads, but should a rock be a little loose it could prove disastrous for herself and for her child. She grabbed up her bow where it had fallen during the fight, and resecured it behind her back. The witch had a supply of potions and poisons which she placed in to her knapsack. There were a few gold coins and some gemstones in a trunk which went into the pocket in to top of her armor. Once she was satisfied that she had retrieved the few things that the witch had of value, she headed down the stairs of  the watch tower. At the bottom she had to pause for a moment to catch her breath. It was then that she heard footsteps approaching the tower. Whomever was headed her way was either unaware of the ruined watchtower or trying to make noise. She crouched a bit, but it was more difficult than the last time she had been out hunting, so instead she stood, drawing back her bow, her elven arrow trained on the direction she’d heard the noise coming from. When she finally saw the figure of the approacher she spoke, as confident and clearly as she could. “Hold. What business do you have at Widow's Watch?” If they were here to collect a bounty on the witch, they were too late, and if they were here for any other reason, well she would have to cross that bridge when they came to it.

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word count - 656 . tag - open . outfit - leather armor .

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[Sírhel Faradrim .]

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[atrb=background,http://img20.imageshack.us/img20/3417/middlew.jpg] [atrb=style, word-spacing: 1px; text-align:center; padding: 1px; margin-right: 0px; ] Life is too short to simply stand still. The day started out as a good one. Sírhel Faradrim had woke early in the morning, shortly after the sun had rose, and started off on her quest to explore Skyrim. The Wood elf had donned a thick pair of of green trousers, with a just as green tunic, and a dark leather jerkin over it. Her bow and quiver sat on her back, along with her small pack. A belt completed the ensemble with a sheathe for her dagger, it sat just at the base of her back, finding that reaching back for it rather then just down, was her preference. She started out, somewhere near Solitude, where she had parted ways with a group of travelers, who had allowed her to share their camp fire that night. They were continuing on to the city, while Siri chose to explore the areas surrounding before heading that way herself. First she discovered, the trails of Skyrim were difficult to pick out, for an outsider at least, and not but an hour into her journey, found herself lost. All that she knew was that she was somewhere in the Mountains, which didn't help her at all. With a huff Sírhel kicked at the snow. Starting back in the direction she thought she had once came from, eyes searching for some kind of marker. In her earlier travels she had taken notice that piles of rocks with some piece of worn cloth usually labeled where a path was located. -- The day's light was quickly fading and Siri had come across little to nothing that could help her decide where in Skyrim she was. With a short sigh Sírhel pulled her leather jerkin closer to her body, Skyrim's cold weather took some getting used to, and being as exposed as she was to the winds chilled her to the bone. The Bosmer, turned 'round twice, trying to make out something that might provide shelter, so far she had passed nothing more then the random tree. Siri blinked and did a double take, some ways off, it looked like there was some rocky formation. "It will have to do." Sírhel murmured to herself. Internally grimacing at the fog of breath that floated away as she spoke. Slowly, the girl made her way across the snow covered ground, watching where she stepped so that she would not end up with a face full of snow. Thankfully the strange formation was closer then she thought for soon she was looking up at the dark mass of some kind of stone. “Hold. What business do you have at Widow's Watch?” Sírhel's eyebrows shot up, amber eyes darting to where it sounded like the voice came from. Just ahead of her was another being, on a more elevated ground, which led Siri to believe, this 'watch tower', must sit on an incline. Stepping forward easily, she took note of the drawn bow. Raising her hands, palms out, the wood elf tried a small smile. "I mean no harm." Testing her luck she moved forward still, so that she could have a better view of the woman before her, for that was no voice of a man. "I am Sírhel. I sought shelter for the night. I am afraid I'm hopelessly lost." From where she stood now, still a few feet from the woman, Siri could make out the dark coppery tone of hair, or at least in the fading light it looked darker then what it may have truly been. Sírhel noticed the other female had a height advantage on her, maybe close to a foot. Taking in the others clothing she frowned; as it looked like the female's leather was slick with some kind of moist substance. After the brief once over, Siri's eyes returned to the woman's face. Notes Sírhel talking Layla talking Tag: Layla/Open I'm sorry that it isn't all that great, I hope my next one will be better. Also, if my color scheme is too much/bright/horrid; just let me know, it won't be too much trouble for me to change it out.

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