Bull Headed and Stubborn

[Shin]

The sun beat down on Devon Devine, making the armor he wore incredibly uncomfortable. Sweat beaded at the top of his head and ran down his face and neck in thick rivulets. His weapon, a double-bladed staff, lay within easy reach at his side as he bent near a thin stream in the small copse of trees off the side of the trail that he had been traveling on.

He wondered for the hundredth time since starting why he had agreed to go on this fool errand, it was not easy to find a man that didn’t want to be found. He moved his shoulders to get at an itch under his armor, the dented and worn metal covered only specific parts of his body and was held in place by thick leather straps. The armor had lost the shine it once held but it had also saved his life on more occasions than he cared to remember and he refused to remove it unless he absolutely had to. Still, it was rather uncomfortable on days such as this.

Light green translucent eyes stared into the cloudless sky, the sun has only just reached its zenith. There were still plenty of hours of traveling left and Devon knew the next town was still a few hours ride south and east following the old trading route. He looked over to the horse that he had grabbed from the stables before he left, an old mare that Devon had nicknamed Stumpy for both her attitude and the way the horse stomped around when agitated. She had seen better years he was sure, but she still had a few good years in her Devon guessed.

With a sigh of restlessness he rose from his kneeling position and placed his weapon back in its holder on his back and his water-skins on his belt. He finished brushing down Stumpy before strapping back down the saddle and walking out from the cool shade provided by the trees. Devon decided to walk a few miles and let the old horse rest before picking back up the pace. Devon hoped that he might find some information in the next town, though he doubted it, his quarries tracks were too well hidden and his agents to well placed and Devon was more akin to angry bear wandering aimlessly in a glass-blowers shop when it came to coercing information from people.

[Igraine]

Further along the path there was a small group of travellers. By the looks of the few wagons they had between them, the bright colors, the jubilant sound of music -- they were gypsies. One horse hung back from the group, a jet black horse that was covered in sparkling glass beads. It's mane, a softer shade of grey black, was cast in ribbons and small sparkling beads. It snorted, as if it were greatly humiliated by wearing all of these trinkets.

"I know, Shadow." Murmured the woman on his back. She reached down and scratched behind his ears and rubbed the top of his head. She laid herself forward far enough to rest along his neck and he whinnied softly.

"Talia, you shouldn't baby that horse." A male voice, low and warm with amusement brought her out of her reverie.

"I'm not, Malakai. He doesn't like all of this stuff in his hair. I think he feels silly." Talia mused, glancing down at her own outrageously bright wardrobe.

"The horse doesn't feel anything. He's just feeding off of your emotions Talia. Sometimes I think you hate being a gyspy. It's very unbecoming you know, you were born into this." Talia looked away from Malakai and out over the landscape around them. She felt the sun beating down on her head, but it was covered against the elements, so only her pale blue eyes showed. Nothing of her flame red hair, not much of her sun tanned skin. She almost didn't look the part of a gypsy, except her own father had a shock of bright red hair. He was some far away place, had done some things, and had been adopted by gypsies. Something along those lines anyway.

"That is not the case, Malakai. You know that I don't feel that way." No, I feel like I'll never settle down. Talia smiled up at the dark haired tan man with no sign of what she'd been thinking. "No worries, I'm not going anywhere. I'm just enjoying the scenery."

Malakai smirked and shrugged his strong lean shoulders and spurred his own horse forward with the rest of the gypsies. Talia made a face at his back before falling back into her own thoughts. She was oblivious to the strange rider and stumpy horse that were closing in on the slow moving group of travellers.

[Shin]

In the still, early afternoon the sound of bells and other instruments that Devon couldn’t identify were heard before the Gypsies were spotted. He tilted his head, craned his neck, and cupped a hand around his ear to try and make out the sound better. Still leading Stumpy he rounded the top of a small rise that gave way to more rolling hills, the brightly colored wagons weaving amongst them on the dirt path.

“Gypsies.” Devon said to no one in particular, he had heard of the roaming people before, that the better of them were thieves and pick-pockets. They would greet you with one hand and swipe your valuables with the other, then have the audacity to try and sell it back to you for a ‘fair’ price. In truth Devon had never actually met a Gypsie before, yet the stories were enough to make him tighten the small money pouch he did carry and stuff it inside of his armor. There was no need to be careless after all.

“Come Stumpy, we have to pass them.” The old mare trudged along, Devon was sure he could drop the reins he carried and the old horse would still follow him out of instinct.

As he neared the Gypsies Devon entertained the idea of just riding around them, but he knew that such a jaunt would drain his already tired horse, and he didn’t have the money to purchase a new one. Nor did he want to, Devon wouldn’t admit it but he was becoming attached to the old horse. He had never had a pet or any sort of animal while growing up and the Order had been kind in allowing him to take the mare even if she wasn’t what she used to be anymore.

[Igraine]

To ears sharpened by a life spent on the road, the steady plod of a horse preceeded the rider by a good half mile. Talia, already straggling behind the main group of riders, straightened on Shadow's back and turned in the saddle. The shift of her weight caused Shadow to stomp his feet and shift sideways. She rested a calm hand on his neck before shading her eyes with her free hand.

Talia wasn't one to be snuck up on, especially with ample experience as a Gypsy. She pursed her lips and let a sharp whistle echo off the surrounding hills and she pulled up on the reins of her horse. Shadow's ears perked as he heard the steady plod of the newcomer's horse. One might even say he knew it was a mare, who knew what horses thought or smelled after all.

"Hullo, Stranger." Talia called with her hands cupped on either side of her mouth. She looked like a veritable jewel sitting on top of an ill tempered Shadow. It was the reason her horse was her own and no one tried to take care of him but her. They had a good relationship between them, and Shadow tended to bite anyone else that touched him -- more often than not. It had been her skill and obvious kinship with the horse that had saved him from being sold. She liked to think his generous love of her presence was due to saving him from a worse fate as a plow horse.

Talia was wearing a brilliant blue gauzy outfit with what looked like very broad pants, though they were slit up the inner thigh to a point where it wouldn't hinder her dancing, if she was asked to perform on short notice. The pants were gathered at the ankle with what looked like simple straps -- obviously those were only there for riding so she didn't get tangled up in the riding gear. She wore a more risque top that was criss crossed over her chest and tied behind her neck, made of the same gauzy blue material that amazingly didn't show any of her...assets. Her face was covered with a veil and headdress of the same material. At her waist was a large kerchief of a brilliant orange that contrasted perfectly with the blue, and at even intervals there were old coins from some country that jingled as decoration. At her wrists, ankles, and throat there were small tinkling silver bells that carried a beautiful soft jingle as she moved.

As Talia raised up in the saddle to get a better look at the person coming closer to their caravan, a stray whisp of fiery red hair escaped the headdress she wore. The traveller might wonder at the get-up, as it wasn't something the gypsies wore continuously -- but they were expected in the next town to do a desert style show. Her father, the caravan leader, had given her one of the leading roles and made her one of the dancers as well. It was a tough life, though by the looks of the clothing on everyone present -- this band of gypsies did a very good job of surviving.

The traveler might even be stunned to realize that they didn't care about stealing his purse. There was no sport in it unless others were around to sneak from and perform for as well. He would faster lose his coin to games of chance and cards along the way than anyone slicing his purse. This crew was well trained in the arts of trickery and deception, and Talia was one of the best at getting men to lose at games of chance.