Storyboards: Larelan

It is late at night, and the crickets are chirping. The campfire still smoulders, crackling and sending a spark into the air every few seconds. Slow footsteps approach the camp, crackling dead leaves and snapping branches. The dark, slender figure finally approaches the small tent and lifts the tent flap slowly, as to prevent too much noise. As the flap opens, the sound of light, slow breathing emerges. The figure lowers the hood of her cloak, and steps inside.
The sleeping man opens an eye, but remains still on the ground as the intruder creeps into his tent. He slowly reaches around the rolled cloth he was using as a pillow, and grips the hilt of his favourite dagger. Quickly, he rolls out of his blanket and flips up, grabbing the neck of the intruder and flipping her onto the ground, dagger flashing to her neck. Then, after peering more closely he loosens his hold and lets out his breath.
'Don't do that to me.' he says quietly.
The intruder chuckles. 'I guess I should have killed you instead.' She grins, her white teeth flashing through the darkness.
The slender man grins back. 'I'd like to see you try.' He smirks. 'I have, remember?' She lifts his nightshirt slightly, revealing a scar in his side.
She pokes it and he winces. 'I remember.'
He sits back on the ground and leans back on his arms. 'So, what did you come all this way for? I never see you in Asturia this time of the year...'
His guest seats herself beside him, crossing her legs. 'Stories.' Silence.
'Stories?! You woke me up for that??' She smiles, even though he can't see her face clearly through the darkness. She reaches into her cloak, pulls out a flint stone, and lights a small lantern sitting in the corner. Her long blue-black hair glistens in the light, and her gleaming blue eyes penetrate into his.
'I'm serious.'
As he falters under her gaze, he realizes why he had that scar… he tried a little too hard to touch. Finally, he gathers his wits and says, 'Go on...'
She runs her fingers through her flowing hair and gazes into the lantern. Jumping slightly at the crackling of the smouldering fire outside, she takes a breath and speaks. 'I ran into this man at a tavern up north. We got to talking and began to share stories. It was glorious, I didn't even notice the crowd building up around us!' She pauses quickly, clears her throat and smoothes out her cloak. 'Anyhow, he said he would be interested in hearing more stories, and I mentioned that I have many well-travelled acquaintances who may be willing to share their stories....' She looks into his eyes again with that penetrating gaze.
'Well?' He breaks her gaze and closes his eyes slowly. He lets out a deep breath and nods his head. 'Ok, but what's in it for me?' He opens his eyes again.
'Just the reward of knowing people will be sharing your stories for generations to come.' She smirks at him. 'Doesn't that just spark your pure Arendish blood?'
He grins. 'Maybe I should kill you after all.' She looks into his eyes with a flinty look.
'Don't even think about it Larelan.' Getting up, she blows out the lantern and steps toward the tent flap. Pushing it upward she says, 'We'll be in touch, Wanderer.' and steps out. As her footsteps fade away,
Larelan says to himself, 'I'm looking forward to it... Fieron.'

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