one last ride before we go

ooc; location between ichorwood and stone mountain, setting is a sheer cliffside
trickster skill

Mist littered the grounds and air. It was easy to get lost in the nameless location. Teetering on known and not, the edge of the cliffs made for a dangerous pursuit. Night had also fallen by now. With only the stars above for light, it was difficult to see and make sense of one's surroundings. While the little fae was hoping nothing jumped out at her, she also reeked of boredom.

Nothing to do. Nobody to talk to. She flickered in and out of view, wandering the sheer cliffs like a pale ghost. If she caught anyone's attention, she wouldn't really know what to do with it. Chasing after something was more amusing than catching it. Surrounded by dense fog on all sides, Pixie attempted to formulate something to do. That only sparked when she saw him.

He was below her, on a larger and wider path. It was sheer luck she happened to look down at that moment. Pixie cringed her body, laying flat against her smaller path. She had climbed up free of will previously and could get back down. Alas, someone could also say the mist was too thick to see a safe foothold. She began to shake, stirred on by what could happen.

A soft whimper left her lips, but loud enough for the man to hear.

@Bär

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 Still coated in blood and wound, Bär limped through the mountains, body aching after the fight with that ginger prick. Nonetheless, the mutt pushed forwards through the fog, no matter the winces and whines that emerged from his maw as he did so.

 Until…

 A lass, a cry for help? Perhaps. Looking upwards, a lady could only just be noticed past the smog, lip quivering. Was she scared to get down? Bär chuffed, letting the other know of his presence if she weren’t aware already.
 “You alrigh’, girl?” He asked, hopefully loud enough for her to hear. “Can ya hear me?” Bär strained his ears; he needed to listen, for he didn’t have the strength to climb. Stupid girlie and her stubborn, thick-skull. Ginger bitch.

 Anyway, forcing his attention back towards the maiden, Bär awaited an answer.

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"Y...Yes but" She was soft at first, startling, and purposefully scrambling. Her paws slipped and slid at his voice as it raised. Deceptively unaware he had been there at all. She let out a fearful gasp, clinging like a cat to the edge of her path. "I-I can't see you. I can't see where I am. The... It just got narrower and narrower. I'm afraid to back up." She didn't whine, keeping the fear real but logical. Realistic and believable. 

She smelt his blood, and that only fueled her more. He was hurt. She could almost picture him limping around. "Can you help me down, sir?" She also pleaded, not begged. It stood to reason he was on a safer path, after all. He could easily just leave her be, leave her to her fate. But she... had an inkling he would not. But what to do with him now? He was in her grasp almost. She never did stroll over the border, content to be a bitch. Content to tease.

 Never one to harm for true.

But that could change, oh it could. Especially if someone made it easy. Wolves were opportunists. They hunted the weakest and the sickest. Only taking a strong beast if it fell and tripped. Exposed. This man could become exposed to her. The fae girl didn't know it yet though. She could only assume.

ooc; trickster skill

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prolly gonna go to bed soon <3

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 "Y...Yes but, I-I can't see you. I can't see where I am. The... It just got narrower and narrower. I'm afraid to back up." Bär hummed. Was there any way he could help her down? He wasn’t sure, personally, and he didn’t want to make his wounds worse.

 Then, she asked exactly what he’d been thinking. With a brief, curt nod, and an agreeable wuff, the man got up on to his back legs, leaning on the stone. He — for sure — was quite tall, so hopefully it’d be easier to just… let her fall on to him? He worried for what the consequences of such a thing may be…

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ooc; trickster skill / no worries! go to bed ;D

It worked. Her plea did not fall on deaf ears. Pixie tittered a scared little thanks as he reached for her. He leaned against the stone wall that separated the two cliffs and while he did not grumble, she could see it pained him to do so. The wounds burned in her mind a bright red, almost cherry. "Thank you." Sucker.

All it took was for her to assess the situation before an idea formed. She leaned to the side, to his reach. She fell. And with it, he hopefully fell with her. She let out a yelp of alarm for good measure, crashing into him and trying to knock him from his position. And for double brownie points? She managed to hook a limb under his own, dragging him. Hopefully.

Pixie crashed onto the ledge below, momentarily stunned. Even if she had a second thought; it was too late now. She wasn't quick enough to recover in order to help. While her intention was to "innocently" make him fall and get himself hurt, they were much too close to a cliff's side. It could have very well been her. And that would stay with her more than his demise.

If the man managed to scrape against the cliff and hang on, she'd scramble to look down at him. Her eyes were wild and alarmed. The perfect emotions to deceive; even if her heart hammered in her chest. Was that such a good idea? It flashed in her mind and she pushed it to the side. He's a fool. The snooty, uncaring part was assessed. Let him drop.

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 The man did nothing but grunt in acknowledgment as the lass thanked him, refusing to speak. He’d rather put his energy into helping the poor girl down, until…

 She fell.

 And with her, Bär fell, too, but she was lucky enough to get a footing on the path that he’d happen to been on. But… no, he didn’t get that. Instead, he scrambled in the air, thrashing like a fish out of water—

 But it was no use as he tumbled over the ledge.

 No use as he cried out for her to help him, though he’d be too heavy for her dainty little paws.

 No use.

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Chaos was a fickle thing. The moment such inspiration struck, doubt settled in once it was over. Pixie, on instinct, to be good and decent and lovable, reached for him. Whether she was trying to keep the ruse going was even unknown to her. She grasped at the air where he had been, his eyes seeing the last thing visible to him - unless he closed them - and that was her.

He slipped through her paws.

A loud breath escaped the young woman. Haaa. Shock filtered into her eyes. She felt oddly weak. Haaa. It felt different than what she expected. A little fun, innocent, and unable to cast blame back. Nobody would suspect a thing. And he would fall. To his death. No. "No." She echoed her own mind, pushing aside her failure to own up to it. She scrambled to the edge, looking down.

She could almost imagine his shocked eyes, staring back. Full of blame. Blaming her. Regretting a choice made to help her. His death was on her. Good. That wicked little voice was back. She skittered backward as if fearful she would share the same fate. As if something looked down on her, ready to aim and punish. But nothing came. Nothing at all. No divine punishment. The wind was empty of words too.

Nothing came back for her due to the man's death. Not now. Not soon. Maybe in the future. She hadn't left anything on him. No fur. No blood. Nothing to trace it back. But still. She was fearful, but for herself. "Fuck." She uttered the profanity, a new word on her lips, and found she liked it wielded it like power. His body would eventually crash and break. Maybe it already had. She pivoted on the spot.

And ran.

/exit

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