Open Hart, Boar and Fox Fur

[Walter Thornley]

The cold was coming from the western mountains, dragging its misty fingers closer to the coasts each morning past. And with the changing of the seasons, trees dressed in gold and copper filigree among the peridot late summer greenery. The skies seemed a special sort of blue in the fresh quiet. A perfect fortnight to hunt stag and boar, Illyn said. Even the weather agreed, sunny and with not too much wind to balance out the settling chill.

The outskirts of the hunting grounds were near a lake, fed by a number of small brooks running through it, where the clearing allowed to set up the large room-sized tents and accommodations suited to the noble guests. Even a degree of enchanted items was involved when it came to commodities, the braziers to warm the inside of the tents, the heaters and purifiers for the wooden washing basins.

The grass was trod into dirt paths, lamps used for outsides in the evenings, and three vertical runestones were brought to be set alongside the perimeter - to diminish the lights and noises from people making their stay.

In the middle of the proceedings, emerged Walter, in stark white shirt under the midnight silver-threaded overcoat and brown deerskin boots. He was be in the saddle with a bow and out of melee, and so, could allow himself joy in dressing nicely for the event.
If they had any more guests, surely Leysa would fix his austere sense of color?

He mounted Geist, and rode out through the woods where they met a downhill meadowland, to meet the approaching procession Illyn had reported earlier.

 

[Leysa]

Leysa always liked taking a break from corsets and skirts and silks, and wore attire fit for hunting. She felt less restricted, dressed for the part, and that always made her feel comfortable. The usual pale and soft palette she often worse would do no good out here, and thus had opted for more plain colours, if one could say a deep blue coat as such. The noblewoman stood where others had gathered, tones quiet and eyes alert.

She turned, catching sight of Walter approaching. Grinning, she started to move and meet her friend halfway. "We really could not have asked for better conditions than this." Her eyes were alight with anticipation, eager for the festivities to begin.

The past few weeks had her nerves turning again, for Leysa had never hunted with a party such as this event. It had always been herself, her younger brother, and his instructor. They never went too deep into forest cover, but Leysa was quick to draw when it came to pheasants.

Oh, goodness. She hoped there would be pheasant and small game she could shoot, so as to not feel inadequate against those that were seasoned hunters.

"Not a bad turn out, Wally. It appears the Thornley's still have connections to have garnered such a guest list." She changed to speaking in a low tone, for Walter's ears only. Perhaps even Geist's too.

 

[Walter Thornley]

"Unlike the last time we've met for a party," Walter chuckled. Drenched did not begin to cover it, though memories made most things feel fonder. He glanced at other guests and lowered his tone, too. "Gods be graceful, this is modest compared to some earldoms I've heard of - and suits me just fine." His smile faded to the corner of the mouth, wide eyes betraying just how miserable he felt in his very soul to have an etourage. "Luckily some of the groundskeepers will manage the second group. You and I get to open once the prey is stirred."

Not quite, it would seem, for his midnight and her dark sapphire blues matched.
"The few who would show up, probably did so because you did," he intoned to her warmly. "Has your retinue brought the manuscripts I sent over? I hope the time apart, busy as it was, did not deprive you of some leisure reading. After the witching hour brings us to the lodge deeper in, we'll take some time to get your first practice, hm?"

The domain under the canopy, paited with trodden paths, long-grown grass and underbrush, awaited. Night slowly getting colder, the tips of leaves on some were turning red, same as the ivy creeping along the centenean oaks. An old grove, the more imposing deeper in and as spacious as any lord's hall. Gods help those that didn't pay deference to what stalked at night.
For now, however - a cozy entryway camp, large tents, keepers with dogs on watch, an armory providing bows and spears, a nearby town doctor and apprentices resting in the shade, a couple carts still loaded - provisions, young wines, raw ingredients for the days to come.

One of the keepers would stay behind to guide any latecomers, as well.

 

[Leysa]

Leysa could not hide her grimace at the thought of opening the hunt beside Walter. It was not her friend's presence that caused her expression, but the idea of having such a momentous moment be relied upon her and her worries that had her hoping she would not miss her first shoot.

"Do not say that!" She hissed, mortified at the mere thought. "That only puts pressure upon me, Walter!"

She pouted, turning her pathetic face towards Geist. "Your master can be so cruel to his friends, dear Geist. Should he do the same to you, you have my permission to snort in his face." Leysa turned her face up at her friend and host, still seated in the saddle. An innocent smile crooked at her lips.

Weary at the thought, Leysa sighed and nodded her head. "Yes, I have seen the reading materials you have sent my way and have only made a small dent in the reading progress." Her tone turned disappointed, not in her friend nor the knowledge laid between the words of shroudweaving, but disappointment in herself. Leysa liked to think herself a well read lady, but to grasp the fundamentals of shroudweaving was read as if the words were lost the a shroud of mist within her mind.

Perhaps demonstration was in order, and she only hoped the hunt did not serve disorder and hinder her nerves.

 

[Walter Thornley]

Walter would only offer her a charming smile. His eyes smiled less, only a little bit. He was not free of worry, either, though it wouldn't do well to share his worries with Leysa. Any of them.
"Nobility obliges," he teased, voice soft, and dismounted. "Oh, wonderful if even a dent. I'll do my best to abridge the papers, but first - greetings. Please give me a moment." joy drained from his voice in anticipation as he put on a well-mannered face and departed from the lead to greet other guests, exchange the basic small-talk and avoid a few questions.

Geist turned the head at Leysa with a low rattle, but remained in place, as if rooted. Unlike the horses, the beast did not seem easily spooked at all, and well-disciplined enough to not even have a hint of bristling its silver crest.

Walter returned, shook his head to the groundskeeper who'd offered to take Geist's reigns. The beasts got attached to their rider for life, or so the trainer told him. It was safer for everyone that none other tried to stir it, then.

"Aren't the autumn birds especially lovely?" the baron mused, offering an arm. "Offering a memory of something beautiful, before it's cold and still."

 

[Leysa]

The drakehorse used to frighten her, as did a great many of things here in Bremen, and yet it was with Walter's help that Leysa became acquainted with strange things. Of course, she did not reach for Geist, nor wish to stand so closely that his head could be mere inches from her, terrified it may snap it's maw at her.

"I have learned to love the cold." She lifted her head slightly. "For it means I can sit before the fire and read contently. It will take a great feat to have me leave my space and attend a soirée."

Walter did not need to convince Leysa too hard on attending today. She had been in the mood to meet new people, to reacquaint with those she had not seen in some months due to an illness that befell her and rendered her unable to attend the past events put on by the North Ilican society.

"Now, let us head towards the lodge, dear Wally." Her expression gave him no room to argue, waiting for her dearest friend to offer an arm and lead the way. "Do you hope to see any friends today? Any friend?" Was her next oh so subtle inquiry.

 

[Walter Thornley]

"They may deem it a great virtue, for the lady of Caretarius, formerly heiress, delves in knowledge to further her family's fortunes rather than spending time in silly games of chancing upon the company that would not disappoint," Walter chuckled, doing just that, and taking lead as they walked beside each other. "And yet, they might also deem it a bane - such wonderful company lost to the dusty parchments and fading ink." Flattery, of course, not without a grain of genuine opinion, the dramatic flair around it made impersonal like a colorful wrapping.

The forest revealed the campsite prior being set, the scent of charcoal smoke, produce and beasts of burden floating in the wind. The sounds only revealed themselves within the barrier of the stone circle, however.
"The lodge is a horseback ride away, my lady of Caretarius," Walter teased softly. "The bounty of the forest is being stirred for us right now. We shall ride out, and shoot out shots, out prey tallied and brought behind us as we ride to the lodge at dusk, where most cannot see well enough to aim true."

The mention of a friend earned her a darker humorous stare.
"Besides yourself? Someone might join us, if the gods are kind. You may then judge me oh so harshly on my faith in people, and I will have some witty retorts, and perhaps by the time we are at the lodge, we'll laugh about it all together. What about you? Any friend you've left behind, or wish would be joining us?" A quirk of the jet brow, as they've made most of the way to the armory. "You may inquire for any particulars here, if you've need, medicinals right next - just for good measure. Sniffing salts for dizziness, clotting powders, those kinds of things. I carry a set with me, too, of course, but you are welcome to have your own," he gestured, nodding to Rob, one of the Huntsmen, at the healer's tent.