Watcher of the Woods(Open)

Ashton Whitewolf, or at least that's what others called him. Sure his name was Ashton and the human boy made his home near a den of white wolves, who seemed to ignore his presence if not accepting it begrudgingly. The male ran a hand through his hair as he sighed, his long dark strands flailing lightly. He was crouched on the branch of a tree. He was balanced there, one hand on the trunk, one on the branch above him. He glanced around looking for signs of creatures moving through.

Even though he'd been raised in the woods, mostly on his own with the animals of the forest around him, he had come to find his own way. He'd taught himself to fight by watching animals. Watching a pack of wolves taking down a deer or some other animal. He'd even managed to build a bow and some arrows but wasn't any good with them. But his mother had left her swords behind with him and he practiced with them daily, keeping his body ready for just about anything that came at him.

But for now he was hunting, and dinner had so far eluded him, so he just had to figure out which way it went. And this meant, finding something he could use to track it.

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"Wuttelllell, lrufeln sel fiyr zuon hiwry. Elcjelhuq sel fiyric zuon friyel fansyr, act helat sel yu sz celgy doelly. I as pavx ic yrel fuutl hixel zuo rajel alxelt. Cuf, lruf sel yu sz celgy tellyicayiuc." ((Translation: Goddesses, shower me with your light. Envelop me within your white warmth, and lead me to my next quest. I am back in the woods like you have asked. Now, show me to my next destination.[Celestial] ))

The words flowed out of the elf like a cool breeze. Her dulcet voice carried through this open meadow where she sat, surrounded by the fabrics and folds of her dress and cloak. The hood of her cloak was down, so those red curls cascaded down past her shoulders, shimmering like threads of red silk. Her porcelain skin could only be seen at her hands, which rested in her lap, and her neck and face. Her eyes hid behind those long dark lashes as those light pink, plush lips spoke in that foreign tongue. Dark green cloak held around her throat by a silver symbol of her Goddesses, the triangle with the three circles within it. A lighter green dress clung to her torso, and flared away at the hips and around her.

There she sat, in complete silence with her hands in her in her laps, those fingertips glowing a soft white.
This is Saorla, a high priestess of Angharradh. She has already been traveling away from the woods for some times but just recently returned, wondering what this "home" could hold for her.

Hearing a voice up ahead Ashton's eyes narrowed. He dropped to the ground and approached, as quietly as he could, spotting the elven woman there. His eyes narrowed as he stood behind a tree, trying to keep low to the ground as he waited. He didn't know her, and he didn't often see elves out for a walk this close to human settlements. Elves were uncommon even in the amazon and barbarian towns scattered through the woods. This one did appear to be a priestess of some kind and he'd heard the prayer. Celestial was the language of the ancients, he'd learned it young and kept up on it, writing it as often as he could. Though he did the same with Abyssal.

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(Move Silently Check followed by a hide check. To notice him roll a Listen, then Spot check and beat the results below. If you want to roll your results just put 'response coming' and roll to see how well you do.)

Move Silently: 17
Hide: 22

The member 'Whitewolf' has done the following action : Dices roll

'd20' : 11, 16

She continued to sit there, listening to nature about her. All she could hear was the nature about her, the own clearness of her consciousness and how she kept it clear for the goddesses to speak to her. She didn't know there was another soul in the area, and surely not attempting to sneak up on her. She stayed oblivious, in her meditating state, the breeze rustling those red strands.

Listen: 5

The member 'Saorla' has done the following action : Dices roll

'd20' : 1

Ashton watched her for another moment as he frowned. Stepping from around the tree, and approaching the elven woman from the front he quirked an eyebrow. His clothes rustled lightly in the soft undergrowth as he moved. He came to a stop well out of reach of the short swords on his hips. He glanced around, sure she was only bait of some kind, but he'd already walked into the trap so he might as well trip it.

"What brings an elf out here? They usually don't come out this close to human settlements if they live in these woods." he said, standing a few paces away. "And elves from human settlements don't usually come back to these woods."

No trap. No games. No bait. It was how it appeared. An elven woman sitting in the meadow, meditating, before the rustle of his clothes made those pointed ears twitch. This eyes opened, and without an expression on her face, she spoke back to him when questioned.

"I come here to enjoy the nature. I am not an elf of these woods, nor from the human settlements either."

She stood then slowly, those layers of green fluttering in the breeze now as she stood, her long red hair flowing past her shoulders. Then she turned slowly to face him, bright blue eyes examining him.

"I am a priestess of the Elven goddesses, the true mothers of this world. I am but a meager traveler. No boundaries nor fear hold me back from traveling into places, or into the woods for the matter."

Those eyes rolled over him once more, then a soft smile spread across those plush lips.

"And what are you doing out here human, if your kind nor mine venture out here?"

"I live out here." he said, calmly. "My home, for as long as I can remember, has been these woods."

Ashton moved and sat under a tree, leaning back against it as he closed his eyes. After a moment of deep breathing he opened them again, not sure if he'd still see the woman there or not. Sure he knew about men and women, and such, but he'd never had one out in the woods. Never been alone with one. When he went into town people were accepting of him because he was human but they seemed to see him as an 'outsider' so he could trade, but he was never fully welcome.

"There are cities around if you were looking for a place to stay. It'll be dark soon." he said before sniffing lightly, taking a deep breath. "And a storm is coming."

Survival to predict weather: 21

The member 'Whitewolf' has done the following action : Dices roll

'd20' : 15