Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Bonds and Beginnings ❯ Chapter 7 ( Chapter 7 )

Ryven and Piccolo walked from the castle and back into the courtyard, the girl being in high spirits now, while Piccolo still seemed skeptical. She almost skipped through the dirt courtyard, her familiar flying down to light upon her shoulder.

~I do not trust him, Young One.~ Piccolo sent solemnly. ~The way he was looking at you when you took off your hood ... he is planning something.~

~Ah, you're merely being paranoid, Sensei. There's nothing to worry about!~

~No, I am not being paranoid. I am being cautious and concerned. Do not do anything foolish. I cannot afford to lose you when we are this close to finishing the training and returning home.~

~.....oh. Sorry.~

He said no more until later on that night, after they had gotten vague directions to where the monster was said to inhabit. They stood on a hill, overlooking a dark looking cave. The sun was setting behind it, but there was a faint glow of it's own light coming from it's mouth. There were grumbling sounds coming from the cave, and even from atop the hill there came a raunchy smell of rotting flesh, mold and moist dirt.

Ryven wrinkled her nose. "Gods, it reeks. There must be scores of bodies in there..."

Piccolo nodded, but still said nothing. He stood next to her on the hill with his arms at his sides, his cape hanging limply, as there was no breeze. She stared on at the cave for a few minutes more before finally letting out a long breath and adjusting her sword harness.

"Snowblind, I want you to keep your distance, or you know, just outside of the cave. If something should happen to you, I'm dead meat." Ryven looked down and addressed her familiar. Snowblind sneezed, signifying that he reluctantly agreed. Ryven smiled a little and looked up to Piccolo, her smile fading.

"Are you going to wait out here?" she ventured, finding his mood odd this night. Piccolo looked down to her.

"No, I am going back to the town to wait there."

She nodded, taking a few steps down the hill. "Alright then."

"Ryven?" The elf girl's ears twikked a little at his voice, then she turned around to face him.

"...Take care of yourself." He let a miniscule half smile cross his face for a moment before his face faded back to it usual apathetic countenance. Ryven smiled softly herself, her confidence bolstered a slight bit.

"Will do," she replied, then turned and walked down the hill. Piccolo watched her for a second, his stature stony but his eyes busting with pride, then turned and walked the opposite direction, toward town.

Ryven took a few steps toward the cave when she reached the bottom of the hill, edging ever so slowly toward the stinking, hot hole. She could hear the thing breathing deep within the cave, and the stench was overwhelming. Ryven's stomach churned as she crept to the mouth of the cave and peer inside.

The floor of the cave was littered with the remains of humans and elves alike, with a few dwarves and trolls every now and then. Their armor and weapons littered the floor, some rusted and some still glittering from recent use. In another corner laid the bodies of several young girls, torn and tattered, but not eaten. The wyvern was killing them out of malice and sport. He seemed to save his appetite for the warriors who came to kill him.

I hope I don't become an hors d'ourves. Ryven thought to herself as she swallowed hard and worked to keep her food down against the terrible smell. Edging around the wall of the cave, she unsheathed her blooding blade and rushed, keeping low, to the nearest stalactite that she could hide behind. Peering around it's side, her eyes searched for the wyvern.

The beast was lying in the far corner, curled up and sleeping seemingly soundly. It's green and black scales gleamed in the light, the luminescence coming from a small lava pool in the middle of the room. Yellowish, acrid smoke billowed up from his nostrils and hung at the ceiling of the cave like a sickly fog. Heat came off in waves from both the lava pool and the wyvern's breath, making the cave seem practically like an oven. Ryven wiped some sweat from her brow as she felt more slip down the curve of her back and down the front of her worn tunic. She took a few seconds to remove the white, long-sleeved under-tunic from under her top one, tossing it outside; safe from the monster's fiery breath.

She moved as quietly as a cat, her feet barely making contact with the dirt floor of the cave as she tip toed toward the wyvern, trying to keep her ragged, frightened breath under control so not to wake it. Her blade glowed blue and reflected orange in the cave, the girl tapping into it's power and created her own bubble of cool air around her as her power level slowly spiked to aid in her power up. She snuck around the lava pool, white knuckling the sword's hilt, her half bare arms shiny with sweat, taunt and tense.

Without warning, the wyvern's yellow eye snapped open, it's slitted pupil widening to adjust to the low light of the cave. It darted about the cave until it spotted Ryven in plain sight. It bolted up and screamed, the sound high pitched and low at the same time. The roar echoed off the stone walls of the cave, and Ryven in a moment of panic covered her sensitive elvin ears. The wyvern's wings flapped furiously as it made it's own wind, threatening to throw Ryven backwards into the pool behind her as it's barbed tail whipped out from behind it in defense of it's home.

Ryven jumped at the last minute, avoiding the swinging tail and a fatal fall into the lava behind her. She landed in a kneel as she brought her sword around, slashing at the retreating tail. The blade hit the tail, but merely bounced off the scales and left a small cocoon of ice around the small area.

"Damn!" she spat, leaping out of the way as the wyvern charged at her. It took a deep breath, and suddenly it belched up a torrent of yellowish green flames. She barely managed to roll out of the way and see how the flames melted the bones on the ground. Her eyes grew wide, and she looked behind and grabbed a round shield from the hands of a dead warrior. Its metal was slightly blackened from a past battle with the beast, but it looked as if it had held up rather well against it's corrosive flames.

She braced herself on the ground, holding the shield up as the flames poured around from the wyvern's mouth and around the shield. She felt a few flames lick her skin more than once, turning the spots a furious red. The metal on the outer part of the shield pulsated with heat, but amazingly the inner part kept relatively cool, protecting her from any further burns. Suddenly the wyvern charged at her again, sidestepping and trying to get her on the side of her shield.

Ryven tossed the shield aside and took to the air. "Shimatte, you're a fast one!" she shouted at the beast, barely missing a fireball thrown at her. She twirled her sword around her head and let out a shrill, pulsing war-cry, rocketing down to impale the wyvern through the top of the head. The wyvern, however, brought it's tail to the forefront and knocked the girl aside, sending her flying into the wall and sliding down on top of the pile of dead virgins.

Ryven sat up dazedly, and, upon realizing where she was, squealed a bit and practically fell from the pile of bodies. The wyvern roared again and leapt in front of her, smacking her across the room again with its tail, watching her sail and hit the other wall. Once again she hit the wall and fell to the ground, and this time it took her a little longer to get up. She gripped her sword hard, and got up to a kneel, her head still bowed as she breathed hard and ragged. This went on for some time, an hour or more, the wyvern merely smacking her around its lair, playing with its food before wanting to eat it. Each time Ryven went to counter attack, the monster roared and overpowered her.

Ryven finally landed behind a towering stalactite, and took the opportunity to rest herself. She could hear the furious breathing of the beast from behind the rock, but she knew it was merely waiting for her to show her face once again. Suddenly the top of the stalactite flew off in a shower of pebbles, and Ryven let out a screech, jumping up in time to catch the beast's wing to her chest, throwing her back once again. She screamed as she flew through the air, hitting a smooth wall and falling on her face. She laid there for a second before pulling herself up along the wall ever so slowly, betraying her pain.

The beast ran at her at full speed, it's green and black wings flapping madly, tossing about weapons and bones as if they were paper. It sent another shower of flames toward her again, thinking in its bestial mind that this would be the finishing blow.

Ryven, however, suddenly stood up and screamed loudly, pointing her sword out in front of her. She powered up violently, and as soon as her white aura burst out around her a blue ki blast shot from the sword. The room grew colder, and the light dimmed from the lava pool as it began to solidify. The blast from her sword held back the flames, the light dripping down the runes of her sword, She screamed again, and the beam grew larger and brighter, sending a pulse of energy up the beam into the fire. The beam put out the fire and knocked the wyvern to the far side of the room, driving the beast into the wall in turn. They wyvern hit the wall and slid down it, shaking it's immense head, trying to regain it's bearings. But as soon as it was able to focus, it saw that the elf girl was already above it, her blade raised high to strike. It didn't have time to react before Ryven had landed on the beast and planted her sword into the top of it's head, the wound around the sword crystallizing into cold hard ice-like quartz.

The wyvern screamed in pain, leaping up and thrashing around wildly, flinging Ryven around like a rag doll as she held on to her sword with all she had. It bashed it's head into the walls and into the ceiling, trying to lose the irritant on top of its head. Ryven took a beating on top of it's head, until finally she angry and twisted her blade in it's skull. It let out a shriek and convulsed, flames pouring from it's mouth as smoke flew from its nose, until finally the thing dropped, bleeding from its nose and eyes. It's tongue lolled out the side of its mouth as its teeth bit into its tongue, the blood mixing with its corrosive drool.

Ryven hung on her blade for a few seconds, panting and trying to loosen her grip on the blade, but her hands wouldn't budge, still stiff with utter fear. Finally she was able to pry her hands loose and slide off the wyvern's head and onto the floor, taking great pains to avoid its drool. She collapsed on the floor, staring up at her still-pulsating sword sticking up out of the beast's head while she panted and attempted to gather her strength about her.

"C'mon Ryven, get up and get moving. It smells down here." she told herself, mustering the strength to get up again. She crawled to the thing's head and yanked her sword from it, wiping the blood off the blade on the wyvern's scales, getting much of it on her in the process. She began to sheathe her sword until she realized that she would need something to prove it was dead. Bringing it out in front of her again, she pulled the wyvern's foot out and hacked at it until its claws came off in her hand. Pocketing the claws, she kicked the beast once in the side, turned and left the cave.

Snowblind was in his wolf form when he came running up to greet her, jumping on her and nearly knocking her over. Ryven giggled tiredly and shooed him off, letting her hand touch his back as they started to walk back to town. It was still a long ways off, and it was dark, but Ryven wanted to get there as soon as she could. She was sore and tired, dirty and covered in wyvern blood. She slung her sword over her should rather than sheathing it, and, with high, but tired spirits, she started back to the town. Flying would have been faster, but she didn't feel she had the energy to exert, so walking would have to do her just fine.

The trip took her well into the morning, and in the early afternoon she stepped into the town. People in the streets stopped and stared at the dirty, bloody girl, they mouths agape. She paid them no mind, though, but merely walked up the main street toward the castle. Villagers began to mumble amongst themselves behind their hands, their eyes never leaving the blood soaked girl walking toward the castle. Piccolo suddenly appeared beside here, looking ahead toward the castle, casting a glance down at her.

"How long did it take?" he asked blandly.

"About an hour or so, maybe less. It was a feisty bugger." she replied. "It bled a lot."

Piccolo nodded. "I can see that."

"I took his claws as proof. He'd better be willing to pay a bundle for them." she stated just as blandly, but more tired than dull.

They reached the gate around four o'clock, merely glancing at the guards as they hurriedly open the gates with their jaws dropped to the floor. They heard whispers of "she did it" and things as they passed through the gates and the courtyard, up past the temple and into the great hall. They didn't have very far to look, however, because Sauldernon was holding a banquet for all of the other lords, knights and landowners. Ryven threw open the doors of the hall, walking directly down the middle of the carpet to where Sauldernon was sitting. There was a great commotion amongst all the lords, while Sauldernon stood up, his lips tight and thin with anger.

"What is the meaning of this?!" he asked the bloody girl coming toward him, his face a mask of anger.

"I've killed the wyvern, like you asked." Was the girl's reply. She walked up to the table and set the claws on the tablecloth with a clatter, looking up to the lord expectantly. Lord Sauldernon was aghast at first, but then slowly his shock faded to joy as the realization sunk in.

"Dear Kyon'dai, girl! You've done it!" he exclaimed happily. "Wench! Get this girl a washcloth! Come, join my table, both of you!"

Ryven nodded and smiled through the wyvern blood, happy within to actually be accepted to a noble elf's banquet table. A large boned, large breasted servant wench came bustling out of a door behind the table, carrying a hot towel. Ryven received it graciously with a smile, walking over to sit at the table. Sauldernon had cleared a spot for both of them, however Piccolo refused.

"I do not eat, and I prefer to stand." was his quiet, short reply.

"Please don't take offense, he means nothing against this house." Ryven finished for him. Piccolo raised and eyebrow and glared at his student while Sauldernon laughed heartily.

"No offense taken! Breldana, dear soul, come! Meet the one who has spared your life!" Sauldernon called to his daughter, who had just entered the hall and was in the process of curtsying to her father. Upon seeing Ryven, however, her bright smile faded.

"Father, why is this half-breed at the table?" she asked snottily, walking toward the table.

"It doesn't matter. This half-breed has spared your virgin life!" he retorted. "Now be polite for once in your spoiled life and thank her!" Grudgingly Breldana curtsied to Ryven as well, mumbling a thank you before turning her back and walking from the table.

"Come eat with us, child!"

"I am not hungry," she replied, turning on her heel and heading out the door. Sauldernon grumbled a bit.

"She is such a bitch sometimes. Just like her mother was." he said. "But no matter! Come! Where is my entertainment?!" Sauldernon clapped his hands twice, and immediately several jesters came out from their corners, some juggling, some miming, and some swallowing fire. Their antics went on for more than an hour, but soon grew old and tiresome. A small, nearly cocky grin came over Sauldernon's face.

"Bring in the magician!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands once more. The jesters all left in one large group as the lights dimmed a slight bit. Piccolo grunted a little from behind the table, leaning up against the stone wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

~Is this going to be over soon?~ he asked.

~Don't be a killjoy. You don't have to stay if you don't want to.~ Ryven replied. Piccolo growled a little in the back of his throat, but didn't reply.

From the doorway came a tall, lanky man, clad in black, from his boots to his thick, hooded cloak. His hair was black as well, past his shoulders and tied back in a shiny ponytail. His eyes, however, were as pale as his skin, seemingly grey and emotionless. He walked in, taking long strides on the blood red carpet; his thin face set with a small, almost cocky half smile. He came up to the table and bowed low to the lords and ladies, then his eyes rested upon the blonde half-breed at the table. He smiled a little more and bowed to her as well, taking her newly cleaned hand and kissing it before he stepped away from the table to perform. Ryven looked at her hand, then back to the dark stranger, then back to her hand again. No one had taken the time to do that for her before.

"Jenaar, dear magician, perform some of your best tricks for us!" Sauldernon ordered. "To celebrate the slaying of the bane of our kingdom!"

"As you wish, M'lord." replied the magician, his voice low, hollow sounding. He bowed once again, then stood up straight and threw his cloak back with a dramatic flourish. Ryven watched wide-eyed at the man, while Piccolosan grunted and watched him critically.

~What is he going to do? Pull a rabbit from his hat?~ the Namek remarked sarcastically. Ryven turned her eyes back to him and shot him a dirty look. She turned her eyes back to the magician and watched him eagerly. He held out his hand and closed it, slowly opening it to reveal a purplish blue flame. He closed it again, and out from his hand flew three bright butterflies. The lords and ladies all oohed and aahed, clapping their hands and nodding in approval. Ryven laughed jovially, downing the rest of her ale that sat at the top of her place. She lifted it up, and a wench filled it quickly and quietly, scurrying away afterwards.

Jenaar subtly grinned at her laughter, reaching in his tunic and producing a small bag in his palm. Walking over to one of the torches in the place, he untied the bag and pinched a small amount of the powder out of it, then turned to the table.

"I'll have to ask you all to step away from the torches if you are standing near one," he warned, then turned to Piccolo. "And that would mean you as well, Tall one."

Piccolo narrowed his eyes at the tall black stranger, but heeded his warning and took a step or two away from the torch he was standing by. Jenaar then turned and chanted something under his breath, dropping the powder into the torch. There were a few seconds of silence, then Jenaar turned to the rest of the audience.

"Iklainae!" he shouted, and immediately all the torches in the room flared up in green flames, then went back to their original color.

"Oh wow!" Ryven jumped a bit, startled by the suddenness of it all. Piccolo's head snapped to look at the torch with surprise, his arms still crossed and his face still stony, but after that he didn't look very impressed at all. Jenaar performed his parlor tricks for the better part of the afternoon until the sun had sunk below the horizon. A small troubadour band was called in, and stories of great heroes were told, and after that they played several light, fast paced dance tunes. Many of the lords and ladies got up to dance. Lithe elvin feet pranced around the room, twirling and leaping madly to the dizzyingly happy melodies that filled the hall.

~I need to leave.~ Piccolo told Ryven, his voice subtly strained.

~Why, Sensei? Is something wrong?~ she asked in reply. Piccolo took a split second to narrow his eyes at Jenaar, who was standing a dark corner, but then motioned toward the band.

~That flute...it is grating on my ears.~ he explained. Ryven nodded understandingly.

~Alright. I'll see you tomorrow morning.~

Piccolo nodded as well. ~Bright and early. We have training to resume.~

~Right.~

Piccolo started toward the door, and just as he did Jenaar began to weave his way around the dancers to the table. Piccolo sensed his approach and stood in the shadows just outside of the door, watching to see what his move would be. Jenaar stopped just in front of where Ryven was sitting and cordially held out his hand.

"Would you care to dance?" he asked gracefully. Ryven blinked a few times.

"Are you asking me to dance?" she ventured. Jenaar nodded.

"You're the only one at the table," Jenaar replied. "And everyone else here seems too stuck up."

Ryven stood up and put her worn hand in his hesitantly. "I have to confess, I don't know how to dance."

"It's alright. I'll show you, it's easy." he smiled, and then led her out to the dance floor. Piccolo watched intently from the shadows, his look lethal.

**Why Piccolo, is this you being over-protective?** Kami suddenly piped up, his voice somewhat amused.

**No, I simply do not trust the man in black.** Piccolo shot back. **There is something about him that my intuition does not like.**

**...So you're being overprotective.** Kami surmised. **She can handle herself, nephew. Leave her alone.**

**Oh? Watch.** he motioned toward the dance floor and what was happening.

Ryven was watching her feet as she attempted to dance on the floor, her hands in Jenaar's and on his shoulder, her face reading total concentration. Jenaar chuckled, his hand holding hers while the other held her on the small of her back.

"No, you're trying too hard. Just go with the rhythm. You'll get it," he said amusedly. Ryven looked up and gave him an odd look, like she didn't understand.

"Well, I've been trying to get it, and nothing's coming to me." she explained, her jaw set as she looked back down at her feet.

"Well, maybe dancing's just not your forte, then." Jenaar commented. He pulled her slightly closer. "So, maybe you just need more instruction."

"I guess," she replied as the finished. "I hope this next song's slower."

"Me too," he said slowly. Ryven looked up at him, slightly raising an eyebrow. Just as predicted, the next song was slower folk waltz. Ryven let out a sigh of relief and laughed.

"Now, the waltz is much easier. Just follow my lead." he said, and Ryven nodded, still watching her feet. Twice she bumped into other dancers, one of them Breldana and her date, getting dirty looks and comments of her lineage. Blushing, she turned back to Jenaar and looked up at him.

"Damn snobs," she muttered, glancing back to the couples.

Jenaar leaned in close. "Aye, I know."

"Some people don't know how to show gratitude." she went on.

"If it bothers you so much, why don't we leave?" Jenaar suggested in a low voice with a smile, right next to her ear. "We could get you cleaned up and out of those bloody clothes, and then try a different sort of dancing from there."

Ryven's eyes went wide as she let go of his hand, her other hand flying from his shoulder, rearing back and planting a punch square on his jaw. Jenaar few backwards a few feet into the table, raising his head woozily. Glaring at him, she turned to the shocked party goers and addressed Sauldernon.

"I'll be leaving now." she stated firmly, her voice still edging on angry. Sauldernon's face read panic for a second, but then calmed down.

"Um, no, please stay here for the night. I'll have one of my pages show you to a room. I'll make sure my magician doesn't bother you anymore. I won't have the hero of my manor leave on such a bad note."

Ryven fumed a second, the nodded. "Fine."

Sauldernon clapped, and a small boy came from behind Piccolo. The lord ordered the boy to show her to the guest room. Nodding and bowing, the boy motioned for Ryven to follow him. Ryven walked from the room, passing Piccolo without even seeing him, her face still stony with anger and indignity.

Piccolo smirked to himself. **Told you.**

Kami shrugged. **Seems I misjudged you, nephew. I'll leave you to yourself.**

Piccolo followed the boy up the stairs as well, watching Ryven walk into the room with her things. He saw the boy unlock the door and show her in, going into the room with her. After a few minutes, the boy left the room and ran downstairs. Piccolo waited until he was gone, then walked up the last few stairs and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" she asked somewhat irritably after a few seconds.

"It is me." Piccolo replied.

"Oh. Hold on." There were a few minutes of silence, and Piccolo grew slightly irritated.

~Young One, it is not like I have never seen you undressed before. I have had to see you unclad when I have dressed your wounds.~ Piccolo said. There was some more silence, and finally she answered.

~Aye, I know. But after tonight, I feel-~

~Oh. I understand. Tell me when you are ready.~

~Go ahead.~

Piccolo opened the door slowly and shut it quickly behind him. Ryven had just removed her nasty, dirty tunic and was pulling on another one. Piccolo frowned a second as he walked farther into the room.

"I thought you could not buy that shirt."

"I didn't, but it was in the room when I got here. I think that Sauldernon knew I was going to need it." she explained. She pulled it on all the way, leaving it unlaced and unbelted. She sat on the edge of the bed and unlaced the bottoms of her old leggings, reaching in her bag to pull out the new ones.

"I'm sorry for not letting you in right away. I'm not that fond of the male half of existence right now." Ryven apologized, pulling on her new leggings. The old clothes looked dark and tattered in the flickering torchlight.

"I see why," he grunted. "But you should not categorize me with them."

"It's kind of hard not to, seeing you're male." she spat, but softened her look after the fact.

"But I am not male."

Ryven's head snapped up, her look surprised, then critical, then somewhat fearful.

"But that would mean that you're-"

"Neither am I female. You see, Ryven, my race has no gender." he explained gruffly.

"No... gender?" she tried to grasp at the concept. Piccolo merely shook his head. "I mean, I know I didn't see any- well- you know-when we bathed, but I just assumed you were male, but- How is that possible?"

"We .... we just do not have a gender. I do not know how to explain it any better than that."

"You never told me before, Sensei," she pointed out, resuming with her pants.

"I never had a reason to."

"So what do I call you then? I can't call you "him" or "her","

"Nothing has changed from before. Everyone assumes I'm male, so it is not anything to concern yourself about."

"Oh. Alright." she said, nodding and lacing up the bottoms of her pants. She put her boots neatly at the end of her bed, along with the rest of her things. She took her hair from the ponytail she had it in and let it down, making a face at how much of a mess it was, all dirty and bloody. She knew that she didn't have very long before her strong elvin immunity would give in to the poison of the wyvern's blood, so she walked to the water basin and flipped her hair over, bowing her head and dipping her hair into it. Piccolo watched for a few seconds as she scrubbed it until it the water was dirty, then took the basin and dumped it out the window over the cliff.

"I need more water," she said under her breath. She called down the hall for more water, then sat and waited.

"What did that man say to you, Young One?" Piccolo asked suddenly, an air of restrained protectiveness in his voice. Ryven closed the door and looked at him.

"He made a suggestion that totally out of line," she replied, tight-lipped.

Piccolo halfway smirked. "Is that all? From what you did to him, I thought he might have pulled a knife on you."

"Just as bad," she replied shortly. There was a knock on the door, and the little page boy came in with another bucket of water. She thanked the tyke and took the bucket, pouring into the basin and finished washing her hair. She took a towel beside the basin and wrapped it around her shoulders, drying one side of her hair while she walked back to the large canopied bed, sitting on it's edge.

"Get some sleep, we need to be out of here by morning." Piccolo started toward the door and grabbed it's handle. Ryven nodded and dried her hair some more. "Ja matta ashita."

"Aye. G'd eve to ye," she said just before he walked from the room. He grunted in reply, and then shut the door firmly. Ryven finished drying her hair, humming a song she remembered from her childhood, sitting on the end of the bed. She set the towel down and went to her bag, kneeling down and rummaging through it for her brush.

There was a dark shape in the window, and just as easily as any fly might, it crawled in through the window and hung on the ceiling just above the bed. Ryven felt a slight breeze, turning toward the window to see what it was. But upon seeing nothing she shrugged and found her brush, turning toward the door.

Standing there was Jenaar, black cloak and all. Ryven shrieked in surprise, reaching behind her for her sword and harness. She had half unsheathed it when he was suddenly next to her, grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her around.

"It seems we meet again, Ryven," he said in a near whisper. Ryven snarled and twisted suddenly, kicking him high and into the next wall. He landed with a thud on the wall, then with another as he hit the floor.

"Get the hell out of my room!" she shouted at him angrily, fully unsheathing her sword and standing in a battle stance. Jenaar got up and merely chuckled.

"You think you can resist me? You cannot! No one can resist me!" he smiled cockily, coming toward her again. "Just give into your feelings! I saw the way you looked at me downstairs!"

"Aye, and it was all disgust! Get out!" she spat at him, forming a quick ki blast and throwing it at him. His eyes widened as he jumped to miss it, catching only the edge of it on his arm. He hissed and clenched his teeth against it, turning to glare at the girl. He took that moment to leap at her, his arms outstretched. However, she zanzoken-ed out from his way, picking up a bookcase next to the doorway and throwing it at him.

"What part of "get out" don't you understand?!" she yelled. Jenaar landed and turned in time to see the bookcase flying at him. He shouted in surprise as he was thrown across the room again. He hit the window sill, and, loosing his balance, he fell from the window, screaming the whole way down. Ryven saw the whole happening and ran to the window, watching the bookshelf fall, and assuming he was under it.

"And stay out!" she shouted down after him, then shut and locked the heavy wooden shutters on the window. Cursing the man, she went back to the bed and sat down in the middle of it, closing her eyes and beginning to meditate. Snowblind, who had followed her up to the room, cawed once in raven form, then lit onto the floor and changed to wolf form to sleep, lying next to her bed. An hour or so of that went by until Ryven slowly opened her eyes, tired from the day and it's happenings. Pulling back the covers, she slipped into bed and laid her head upon the pillow, falling asleep almost immediately.