Run, Little Child [Dirk]

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She smiled, perking up as he said about the lock-pick. "Really? You will, Dirk? I need this thing off, I hate it.." Giselle looked down, shuffling in her makeshift seat slightly. It was obvious that she was uncomfortable, at least physically. She sighed, "I've never really had home cooking. I miss actually eating something, to tell the truth." It came out as a whisper, and slowly, Giselle was revealing herself to him, her past, bit by bit. If he were patient, she would give him more, if the man was trustworthy.

"Why do you want to help me? You can always turn me in for a good profit, don't you know?"

Giselle looked up at him now, in the eyes, a serious look to her face. The woman wasn't joking around.

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'Your right I could.' Dirk said quietly, gazing into the fire with such intensity that it burned in his eyes like the reflection of the fire. 'But my master taught me better than that. He taught me that a warrior should always lend aid to those in need and protect to those who can't protect themselves.' He scratched his arm and looked at Giselle. Seeing her physical discomfort his eyes flicked about for something to relieve it, finding nothing he sighed and fetched the apple and bread from his pack.

'It isn't a home cooked meal, but you should eat.' He said holding them out with one hand.

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She looked to him, noddding her head in agreement. "The strong must be a shield for the weak, so the weak can in turn grow stronger and become the shield themselves..." Giselle let out a small sigh, letting up on the cloak some. she was warm enough now that she didn't want to overheat. The human let it open up a bit, looking down to her wrists. Her body was scarred, though from her perspective, she couldn't see it. Giselle's whole back had long gash scars on it, from whips long since past.

Blicking, the woman shook her head. "You eat it, Dirk. I don't really need it. Thank you, though," she murmured, twisting so that she could rest her head up against the wall, like a makeshift pillow of some sorts. She was tired, and a good rest would be nice. But Giselle didn't want to sleep, not just yet. The woman enjoyed talking to someone again.

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Dirk grinned as he bit down on the loaf of bread, leaving the apple on the crate next to Giselle. He shrugged off his claymore and lay it next to the stove, its pearl white blade glowing red from the light of the fire. Its was strange, his mentor said pretty much the very same words to Dirk all those years ago. Shuddering when a chill ran down his spine Dirk skirted closer to the fire, adding a few new sticks of wood. He silently watched her out of the corner of his eye, feeling sorry for the poor creature. Dirk wanted to do something more for her, his mined turned over failures of ideas, so he turned to his partner for help.

'I do not know what would make her comfortable, she should be thankful for your current generosity.' The dragon would murmur in Dirk's mind. 'I would assume that being a slave, anything other than a cold metal cage is like a bed of feathers.'

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After a while, the woman took the apple from Dirk. She ate it slowly, carefully, before setting down the core where the apple had been previously. Giselle sighed softly, enjoying the silence and the heat of the flames and cloak. She brought her knees up to her chest, head on them sideways, as though she were using them for a pillow. Her green eyes fluttered closed, and she was beginnng to nod off. However, she awoke with a small start about fifteen minutes later, before fixing her position and wrapping the furry cloak around her body more. She looked to Dirk, before hunkering down more, sighing again.

"Dirk? You alright?" she asked him. Giselle peered over at the man, her voice still groggy with sleep. "You look like your troubled."

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Dirk smiled inwardly when she took the apple, he didn't feel so badly now. He could tell she was sleepy by the sound of her voice. Shaking his head, Dirk finished the piece of bread still left in his hand, trying to avoid her eyes as he spoke. "It... bothers me... to see my own kind in chains and collars." Dirk said and looked down at his large hands. "I'm fortunate that I have the strength to keep the slavers off me, but not the strength to keep them off others..." His entire body seemed to droop with sadness as he thought about that terrible day once again, even the comforting emotions from Trega could not still his mind from that day. Dirk looked up at her, the fires casting their strange shadows upon his face, enhancing the sadness upon his face. 'Try not to worry about me, my burden is mine alone...' His voice was no louder than a hoarse whisper.

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She looked at him, listening carefully. The woman nodded. She understood what it was like to be protected as well as to protect, though she did it in a different way than him. At one point, Giselle had been a sacrifice, saying that it was her fault for things and taking the beating for the younger children. Those were dark days, and despite the warmth, she shuddered. Giselle moved so that she was perched next to Dirk, and sighed.

"Your burden isn't just yours to bear, you know. There's others out there suffering. If you share it, the load becomes lighter on you as well as others. Did your mentor ever teach you that?" she whispered.

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“It” So many emotions rushed to the surface at once, sadness, anger, resentment, embarrassment, and even fear. Dirk felt so overwhelmed right now, he was sure to explode. His burden was something that his master could not prepare him for. Dirk was a fragment of the person he once was, once so full of life and vibrant. Maybe it was best that someone else know, but, would Giselle fear him if he did. ‘It… is something that no amount of training could prepare you for.’ Dirk would finally whisper. Suddenly noticing her close proximity, Dirk slightly shifted himself, feeling slightly awkward. 'I can't let others shoulder it, I fear it may drive them away, or that I may drive them away..."

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She touched his neck, a light brush, before standing up. Giselle sighed again, letting out a small gasp when she found something that looked liked tins in one of the crates near the back wall. "Look, canned meat.. eh, it's not the best, but now we have food." The woman threw him two little tins, grimancing a bit. It didn't look too appetisizing, though she was pretty sure that these things were still good. She just didn't want to eat something that old. Giselle returned to her orginal seat.

"Well, I can't really help you thgere. That's one of your internal battles. But if you win it, then you can tell others thhat you trust. I understand, Dirk. In time, things will change."

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Dirk caught one tin, letting the other fall with a clang and roll across the floor. Trying not to react to her slight touch of his neck, shivering again as the chill ran down his spine. "Heh, canned is better than eating a rat, which is what Trega is having right now." He said opening the can and taking a sniff, wrinkling his nose as the smell of long preserved meat reached it. Swirling the contents around with his finger, Dirk lifted the can as if it were some kind of drink. "Well, bottoms up" Dirk said before taking a gulp of the tins contents. Gently chewing the soft tender pieces of meat with as straight a face as he could. "Blech, even grog is better tasting than this...."

Dirk removed the other flask from his belt and opened it. A foul smell of a multitude of different kinds of alcohol mixed together took over the smell of the contents of the tin. Taking a swig to rid himself of the taste, his face screwing up as the burn of pure alcohol ran down his thoat with a smack of his lips. "Mmm yea, much worse...."

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She looked to him, thinking that Dirk was joking. "Why don't you go feed her something?" Giselle said. "I'm sure that a rat would make for one nasty little dinner." She sat down after picking up the tin for herself, slowly prying the lid open. It was nasty, it was disgusting. Howeverm it was better than nothing. For a minute, Giselle watched the man, hiding a small laugh and a smile. She picked the pieces of meat from hers, nipping them down as quickly as possible, concentrating on not making a face. It wasn't as bad as she thought it would be, but it was still bad.

When she had finished, she set the tin down next to her, before that scent hit her nose. It burned through, and the woman coughed, putting her hand up to her nose. Giselle looked over at him, a bit surprised. "Put that away, won't you? It's disgusting." Giselle hated alcohol, along with the effects it had on men.

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Dirk had the flask halfway to his mouth when she announced her disgust to the smell. With a stifled laugh, Dirk would place the cork and drink from the water flask instead. Finishing his can of meat, he would open the other one and quickly get it over with. Making a very humorous face as the taste ran all the way down his throat, shivering before taking a swig of water. 'Grog doesn't taste as bad as it smells. Its actually quite sweet until you swallow it.' Dirk said with half a laugh, still he felt as though she had a terrible experience with alcohol, so he held out the flask of water to her, catching her disgust towards the meat as well. 'Here, wash down that awful taste.'

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The woman looked to Dirk, glad that he had put it away. She gave him a small, soft smile, rare. It was gone in a second, though, and Giselle settled back down. Giselle took the water flask from him, grateful that he had given it to her. "Thanks," she murmured, before taking some down, and then recapping it. "I just don't like alcohol, regardless of how sweet it smells." Well, the woman had a good enough reason. She hated getting drunk. Things didn't go too well from that point onward.

"So.." she looked to the entrance of the storage room. Giselle slumped against the wall, eyelids drooping slowly. "Homecooked meals, here I come."

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Refueling the fire, Dirk would scurry about the room, moving crates out of the way of the entrance. That way, if anything happened to invade their sanctuary, Dirk had both a clear shot and enough space if it came down to hand to hand. Settling down against a crate the idea of home cooked food delighted him. Dirk wanted to spend more time in town, and this was a good enough excuse. Though he knew Trega would not like the separation, epically around this stranger, he cringed as her still mind swirled with activity again. Sending emotions of annoyance for disturbing her feed. 'Relax Trega, they are only rats.'

The Dragon snorted, a small whisk of flame catching another rat that scurried in front of her. 'Rats, yes, I feed on rats while you eat meat from a decade ago. I could smell it from here.' She shuffled a bit as runoff water tickled her under the chin. 'I do not believe this storm will last much longer. The Morning shall be beautiful.'
'You smell that as well?'
'You forget, that dragons are connected to nature more than you think'

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Giselle looked to him, watching the man. It was obvious that he was concentrating, but Giselle wouldn't ask on what. He was obviously busy, he would tell her in time, and soon enough, she had drifted in and out of sleep, before it finally hit her, and she stayed that way until around four or so in the morning.

The woman awoke with a start, still slumped over on the one crate she had used as a bed and chair. She opened her green eyes, looking about, before sighing as she realized where she was. Contented, the human female rose and stretched, letting the now overly warm cloak stay on the crate. Her feet felt better, as well as her mental and overall physical state. "Dirk?"