Tracking the ram

[Verbyl]

[/i] cleaned up, getting rid of aphids that he found there (he would swear to his dying day that a sidhe had placed them there). He'd nearly blown up right there, since the flower had been white. So now it was stained, and he didn't relish the task of scraping off blood, which meant he gave up on that flower.

No, he didn't care at all that a ram was killed. He wasn't sure what it meant, really- a dead ram, with an ivory arrow? Waste of an elephant. Last he learned, they made piano keys out of ivory, which was another waste. Why not just keep it on the poor animals? Maybe the rules were different. For the majority of the ten years, he'd been frolicking in the palace gardens, doing his job as a good pixie should.

Which was another reason why he was searching out the killers of the ram. Or, really, the main reason.

The spider in his arms squirmed a bit, and he grunted, pausing mid-flight to adjust her position in his arms. She was probably hungry, but she could figure it out herself, couldn't she? Duh. The bola spider, which he just called Bola, wrapped the front pair of her legs around his neck, scraping against the wing on accident- he winced, but never dropped her. She was easily the smartest bola spider he knew, obviously.

Not that she was pretty or anything. All spiders, he believed, were ugly, though, while this opinion was biased, he thought she was the prettiest.

"Know where we are?" Verbyl asked, not really expecting an answer. His wings were tired, his arms ached, so he slowly lowered himself down, touching the ground and letting go. She continued dangling, legs wrapped around his body in determination. He sighed, hugging her close and continuing on, following the tracks that were easily twice his size. Wasn't too hard to be way taller than him.[/ul]

[Skylla]

Verbyl didn’t make it very far when he noticed the spider shift awkwardly on his body. At first, the movement wasn’t very notice, but it happened again and again. Despite the spider’s apparent discomfort, Verbyl continued to walk on, the path no so quickly traversed by a creature his size. Verbyl passed a large pool of blood, the crimson liquid almost dry but so thickly concentrated that it was evidence the ram had been slain there. Yet the spider clinging to the pixie’s frame seemed to have no interest in the blood and instead dropped from Verbyl. Hurriedly, excitedly almost the Bolas spider scurried towards a nearby tree with no concern for Verbyl followed or not.

[Verbyl]

[Skylla]

As Verbyl climbed a figured stepped out from behind the tree. The woman, exquisitely beautiful smiled at the pixie, and though gesture was meant to be welcoming it also had the potential to looking incredibly wolfish.

Her features were incredibly dark and defined, it was clear muscle made up almost her entire physique but she was not bulky, her figure soft enough to be feminine with curves in all the right places. If the woman remained still long enough one would believe her to be a statue carved from coal or ebony. Her lips were painted a deep red and her eyes were the same color. Her hair fell in long white waves to her hips, not the color of age or albinism, but an ethereal color that also burned white. She wore sheer clothing, a white halter top and short skirt, both completely see through.

She held out her hand, the Bolas spider sat contently in her palm. “Looking for this?” She asked sweetly, extending the hand that the spider was on to the pixie.

[Verbyl]

[Skylla]

The woman left her hand beneath the garlanger as he lifted off her palm. She continued to smile, only frowning when she noticed that he seemed to be straining due to fatigue. “If you need to rest you are more than welcome.” She said, the soft silken tone of her voice just as inviting as her. From her smile to her body to the way she spoke, every bit of the woman was alluring. One would be hard pressed to find any man, woman or anything with a pulse that was not attracted to her in some way. Her aura was magnetic; Verbyl’s mantel brief venture was a telltale sign of that.

She took there, her hand outstretched, waiting for the pixie to either land or why away. She waited she asked, “What is your name?”

[Verbyl]

[Skylla]

“Lolth,” she said sweetly and her grin faded. She watched the pixie in her hand with the same warmth that she had smiled at him with. However, she no longer felt as if she needed to grin charmingly at the little man in order to make him feel comfortable. The solace she offered him in her palm was enough.

“What brings you into the forest, Verbyl?” She asked in a conversational tone as she took a seat on a nearby boulder, cross her legs as she waited for an answer.

[Verbyl]

[Skylla]

A toothless smile, more of a smirk curled itself into her luscious red lips. “Of a ram?” she said curiously, her voice seemingly surprised or confused at the notion. She contemplated for a moment, the thought process visible on her face as she tried to remember ever seeing a ram. She shrugged, “I’ve seen no ram, but ivory…Yes, and I’ve seen such ivory. Odd that such a precious metal would be wasted on a ram.” She chuckled softly.

“To what court do you belong, Verbyl?” her words changing the subject as it to suggest that the old one bored her.

[Verbyl]

[Skylla]

She almost giggled as she saw him slump. He was a funny little creature, a living figurine. She had heard of faeries described as doll-like before, but this man was the closest she had ever seen to that. The pixie heritage that watered down his blood was heavy, it seemed.

“I do not.” She said softly, still with a smile. “What is your life like at the Seelie Court? For a creature your size I’m sure things aren’t easy.”

[Verbyl]

[Skylla]

She nodded her head, frowning as she listened to the little pixie’s trials and tribulations. At one point, Verbyl would have been a dime a dozen, one of the hundred tiny pixies known as the demi-fey who populated the pixie court of Alanor. Of course, the Seelie’s integrating of the Pixie court into theirs had led to generations of breeding between the faerie. The most common breed of pixie was usually a mixture of sidhe blood and pixie blood, a garlanger with wings. Pixies like Verbyl were rare now. It was saddening; the pixies were so beautiful once.

“What would you give to be able to fight, Verbyl?” She asked automatically as the creature finished. She raised an eyebrow, “Or be big? Would you like to be bigger?” She prodded at him with questions that though seemed like impossibilities, held a sense of possibility when she spoke them. She watched him, waiting for an answer.

[Verbyl]