Sir Larg

CAMP

Larg dismounts and unties his saddle bags and throws them on the ground. Then he pulls the saddle, bridal and blanket off the horse and turns his back as the horse wanders off. Cautiously, he approaches the Lady's horse as well, and does the same. Bending down, he rummages through the bags and pulls out a flattened goatskin water bag. He walks over to the stream, dips the bag in and fills it. He walks back to the center of the clearing and hangs the bag on a sappling that wasn't there when they arrived.
"Thank you friend for holding this," he speaks softly.
Larg starts to collect a few rocks.
"M'Lady, I will see to the fire if you will get your cooking wares."
Larg stacks the rocks in a circle in the middle of the clearing. He turns to gather wood and almost imperceptably the grass inside the fire ring recedes into the ground leaving the floor of the pit bare dirt. He stacks the wood in the circle, reaches into his pouch and pulls out something which he hides. An instant later there is a cheerful little fire going in the pit.
Watching him, intrigued at his talent, Spel approaches the small fire that he has started
"Now, M'Lady, you may cook if you wish. If not, I will be happy to provide the meal, if you don't mind fresh squirrel and roots. As to my possessing magic, I do not. At least not as you might think. We can talk more as we eat."
"I can prepare the meal M'Lord."
Spel retrieves her saddle bag, rumaging through it. Carefully, she chooses several seeds. Placing each seed in a small hole in the dirt she covers them. Concentrating emensly, she brings her hands over the spots and quietly speaks.
"Grow." The dirt begins to move as the seeds sprout. Within minutes, small bushes appear. Pods form on them. An aroma begins to fill the air. Another appears to be growing taller than the others.
Soon, pods form on three of the bushes, growing larger. Steam comes from them. Spel waits for a few moments. Gathering her skirt, she gently picks several pods, laying them in her skirt. She brings them closer to the fire and lays then on the ground. Opening one, she inhales the aroma and offers it to SirLarg.
"This is from the bread fruit bush. It smells like perhaps banana."
Opening another pod, an aroma of cooked meat fills the night air.
"And from d'meat tree. It is delicious."
Returning the the bushes, Spel pulls off two pods from a different bush. She pulls off the leafy tops and they are empty. Pulling a small knife from the side of her boot, she pierces the thick trunk of the bush holding the pod to it as liquid rushes out. She fills two pods then closes the hole with a stick. Handing a goblet-like pod to him.
"This is from the Beer barrel bush M'Lord. I do hope it ripened enough."
Spel sits on the soft ground next to him, and begins to eat.
"You know, M'Lady, I expected a more conventional approach to dinner. But I must confess that your way has it's advantages."
Larg picks up the meat and bread from the leaves near the fire and starts to eat. Taking the goblet and tastes the brew.
"And a fine beverage you provide. Your abilities truly are varied. As to mine, well let's just say I understand living things. I talk to them and they listen to me. Why? Who knows. It is a little thing I have had since I was just a child. I respect the living things and protect them, they do my bidding."
Spel pulls bits of meat and bread from her pod while listeing to him. The area grows dark quickly in the center of their natural fortress. She waves her hand and her mage light brightens the area.
"I have heard of one with such a gift as yours. His name escapes me now, but I doubt that you be him. A convenient talent all the same."
Larg had finished his meal as he talked and sets the goblet and remains aside. As he reaches over to stir the fire, the organic remains of the dinner disappear into the ground.
"See to your things, M'Lady. I will prepare shelter for the night."
Spel tidies the area around where they ate. Putting things away.
Larg moves to the edge of the glade and bows to the trees. Four young saplings appear side by side. Their branches grow together forming a shelter.
"If it is acceptable to thy friends, I will leave these new trees here to assist the next traveler." she calls to him as he prepares her nights lodging.
"I hope this shelter will be private enough for thee M'Lady."
She checks the last seed she had planted. It has fully grown. Over shadowing all the trees in the area. It's branches hang over like an umbrella. It is a guardian tree. It's branches move to interfere with the approach of enemies.
"I think the inhabitants of this forest will accept your new comers, M'Lady."
Larg moves to the fireside and pokes at the coals idly, as if distracted.
"I will stay by the fire and commune with my friends for a while."
Spel inspects the shelter he has provided for her.
"Thank you M'Lord. I shall sleep very comfortable here. More privacy is not needed. This tree you see above us will keep any intruders out of this area. If you feel more comfortable standing watch, please do so. But it is not required."
Spel enters the shelter. The ground is like a plush sheep skin rug under her feet. Her back is facing him. Spreading out a blanket, she sits on it. She removes the tie from her hair and brushes out the tangles from the days journey. She removes her shoes. She unhooks her skirt and wiggles out of it, noting the dust that covers it from the days ride.
"I shall have to wash in the stream in the morning." she says to herself.
"Good night, M'Lord." Spel calls to him, peering out, wondering where he will sleep.
Quickly, Spel gets under the blanket, and shivers slightly from the cool air.
He sits cross-legged next to the fire, watching her preperations to turn in for the eve'. 'My, MY,' he thinks. "it is going to be a long night."
He notices her slight shiver at the night air. He bows his head in a nod and lifts one hand slightly. The branches of the shelter thicken into almost solid walls and the air within becomes a bit moister and warmer. He looks around and notices that both horses have moved within the glen and slightly away from the trees. He also notices that her guardian hound is prowling around in the trees outside the protection of her tree.
Larg stretches out on his back next to the fire. The ground rises to form to his body forming a comfortable lounge. He tucks his hands behind his head and relaxes, taking strength and comfort from the ground itself.
All is quiet for their first night on this trip.

Spel wakens very early, before him,peering out through the branches and hearing no noise. She gathers her cloak around her, a seed from the pouch and quietly walks to the stream. She hangs her cloak from a nice large branch.
"If you will allow me." she speaks to the tree, then undresses.
Spel spots a deep area in the stream and enters there quietly. The water is cold against her skin, but refreshing. She washes her body quickly. The clothing she had worn the day before lie in the water. Spel pulls it through the water. dunking it down deep and scrubbing it back and forth with her hands, removing the dust. Holdng it up with approval she wades back out, shivering.
Taking the seed, Spel plants it. Casting her spell, it quickly grows into a sunflower, radiating heat like the sun to dry her. She holds her clothing to the warm heat, and it does the same to her clothing.
Spel dresses quickly. Sitting on the ground she pulls on her boots. Removing her cloak from the branch, she brings it around her tightly.
"Thankyou," she whispers to the tree, then returns to the "room" he prepared for her.
Spel enters, sitting on the floor and brushes out her hair, tieing it up. She gathers her things, placing them in her bag, and exits to see if he is awake yet.
Larg has been awake since her first movement, but realizing she needed privacy he has not stirred. But he has not taken his eyes off her either. And maintaining the appearance of sleep has been the hardest thing he has ever done, especially when she came out of the water. Now that she is dressed, he can move.
"Good morning, M'Lady. I trust you slept well. As soon as we have eaten and packed we may be on our way."
"I slept very well M'Lord, thankyou."
Larg gathers up some gear that was strewn around the clearing and stowed some of it in his saddle bag and tied the rest on his saddle. He throws the blanket and saddle on his horse and started to cinch it down. Suddenly he stops and turns his head to the woods.
"It would appear that the weather will change soon. We should make as much time as we can."
Spel looks to the skies, not being able to see much for the thick folage of the trees. But feeling the change in the weather all the same.
Spel moves to the Bread Fruit tree and picks off the remaining pods and hands him one for breakfast. She absent mindedly eats hers while she looks about the camp to see if she has left anything. The winds begins to blow through the trees, the leaves rustling above their heads.
"M'Lord, if you wouldnt mind saddling Cammy for me, I shall collect the rest of our gear and we can be on our way."
"It would be my pleasure to saddle your horse, M'Lady." Larg moves to retrieve her riding gear. As he picks it up, the great mare walks meekly up to him and stands steady. He throws the blanket on her, then sets the saddle down gently on her back, throws the cinch over and catches it deftly under the mares belly. He thightens the cinch and adjusts how it sets.
"Your horse is ready. I know of an inn a days ride to the northeast where we can stay until the weather blows over. We can also get a more conventional meal there, not that I don't appreciate your efforts, M'Lady. Your culinary talents are truly remarkable. I do not know where you learned such things, but your teacher was truly gifted."
Larg walks over and mounts his horse. He sits waiting patiently for her. The fire pit, lean-to and other evidence of there stay in this glade has vanished except for her food trees.
"We need to get moving, Lady Spel."
"I am ready, M'Lord." Spel mounts Camy, adjusting her cloak around her to keep out the wind. She follows him out of the clearing, to a path. A light cold rain begins to fall, making the path muddy. She pulls her hood over her head to stay dry. Looking up at the dark clouds, and cursing the weather under her breath.
Looking around the her, Spel spots Sampson in the trees, his fur dampened slightly but still with her. She had no doubt that he would be.
Spels calls to Sir Lrg, "I do hope we do not encounter this weather the whole day M'Lord. It appears the Gods are very angry at someone."
Spel rides up to his side, the wind and rain hampering her hearing him very well.

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