((There is more to this that is yet to happen. I will add another chat log when it does happen. Leading in with '...' and ending with '...' with one tab in means a chat log is in between each of those periods))
Braigion had wandered aimlessly north and west ever since he was driven away by the rest of his clan. The thick forest, which he learned was named Mirkwood, were dreadful, even at the borders of the forest. The animals that were suitable to be eaten were few and their meat was little. This was not the start of the hardship Braigion would face for the next few weeks or months. The great forest met an end when the lone Avar made to the northern outskirts, and he turned west towards the great white hills. All this land to him was uncharted and unfamiliar, his destination not certain.
Bragion never thought that Winter could be worse, but it was not Winter at all...the altitude made the snow permanent. The hike over the mountains was long and tedious, and there was hardly anything to gather or hunt for sustenance. Hardiness and enough fur to keep warm kept Braigion alive...barely. The snowy plains, when he managed to reach that region in the Mountains, there was more game for meat and furs to replace the worn and matted clothing the Elf wore. Braigion's fortune did take a better turn with this, but still it was difficult. He had seen tracks...tracks of what he deemed to be Elves.
'More Wanderers?' He thought. Of course, from long living curiosity, and in general of being lonely, he followed the prints.
Braigion's intent was not fully on seeing others...he had nothing that would help keep him alive for much longer. Carefully and silently he followed the tracks, and came to a small camp near the mouth of a cave. There were two elves; resting, but their gear and weapons were much more refined and fairer. Braigion was struck with awe and fear; he had not seen this style of craft before. He stayed as quiet and swift as he possibly knew and looked around the small settlement.
…
Tinurendis hums a slow tune, making her way to the small camp with a bundle of dark twigs and broken branches in hand.
Braigion stayed low to the ground as he searched the place...stopping near what seemed to be a good replacement for his nearly useless cloak. Though silent as though he was a ghost, the cold air makes it visible his breath was quick, and a tad anxious.
Tinurendis stopped in her tracks and tilted her head at the strange figure. Though surrounded by acquaintances and strangers, she had become more or less familiarized with those in their company, and this person, dressed in bedraggled furs and leather from what she could see, was not one of her companions. "Ai!!" she called out, realizing what he was doing. "Get away from there!" Tinurendis dropped the bundle of twigs and darted right over to the stranger.
Braigion started and his head snapped towards the voice, and immediately took many paces away, one hand on one seems to be a bone dagger that was sheathed in his boot.
Tinurendis frowned deeply and knelt to fix the fur cloak that covered the marred body of Thoronchen, pulling the covers over his face again. "Don't you have any respect for the dead?" she asked, then standing. "Who are you? And what are you doing here?"
Braigion remained crouched on the ground, and still fingered his knife. He merely stared at the she-elf with a look of confusion, fear, and slight awe.
Tinurendis furrowed her brow. Her eye fell to his fingers by his boot and then back to his face. She raised her hands in the air, a show that she meant no harm. "I am just asking questions, I don't mean to hurt you unless you give me reason to. Have you lost your way on the Mountain paths?"
Braigion appeared meager as well, in both face and physique; just by the fact his clothing seemed baggy. He shied away over to the rock to the left...or midway, "Dhen ú-chenion..."
Tinurendis appeared surprised by his spoken language, and switched to the same dialect, "You speak the tongue of the Tawarwaith?!"
Braigion again moved over to the left, his eyes darting away from the other-his breathing becoming a bit faster
Tinurendis exclaimed, 'Wait!'
Braigion eventually got on his feet entirely.
Tinurendis blinked a couple of times, entirely confused as to what just happened. She stared at the rock for a good few moments, taking a few steps and tilting her head to see if she could catch a glimpse of him.
Braigion peeked from behind the rock and merely stared. In addition to the mix of emotions, a dangerous fire lit up his eyes.
Tinurendis furrowed her brow again. Strangely enough, she didn't eye him with a queer look and she didn't feel anxious or threatened. Curious, a little weirded out, sure, but most definitely curious. She thought for a moment. He was afraid and evidently did not trust her... "Ah!" after some thought, she turned abruptly and made for the small sleeping area where her cousin rested.
Braigion shrunk behind the rock for a brief moment, and stayed that way...clearly ready to dart off.
Tinurendis kept her distance, and held out the thick, rough blanket for the stranger to see. "You were taking the cloak from Thoronchen's body earlier," she said, "take this instead, if you are in need of a cloak for warmth. It does not look like much, but it does the trick.''
Braigion's gaze shifted to the thing the elf was holding...and again appeared confused as he did not understand her again.
Tinurendis tilted her head, assuming he mustn't have heard her well. She raised the cloak with one hand and pointed to it with the other. "This, blanket," she said, a litle louder, and then pointed to him then. "For you."
Braigion frowned then, and eyed the dropped wood and sticks.
Tinurendis followed his gaze to the firewood she dropped, and then looked back to him. She turned and made for the scattered timber and began to collect most, wrapping it into a loose bundle with the blanket. Once having made her way back before the rock, she placed the bundle in the snow as an offering, and then took several paces back.
Braigion watched her every movements, but kept still as stone.
Tinurendis waited for a while, and when he would not budge, she sighed. He would have to move at one point, she thought, and with casting him a side-long glance she slowly turned around to sit on the nearby crate.
Braigion would move out from the rock and quickly and silently as possible, he took the offered stuff and was gone, almost if he was not there at all.
Tinurendis kicked her feet against the hard, frozen ground, sitting quietly and giving the stranger all the time he needed to muster the courage to come out and speak. It had been a while now, and nothing, not even the subtle crunch of frosted grass was heard. She glanced back over her shoulder, and started to her feet when she saw the bundle was gone, and apparently their midnight visitor as well.
'Huh?!' Tinurendis rushed forward, inspecting the ground. "Not even a single track, either!" Tinurendis looked around the rock, and up at the cliff, eventually halting her search with her hands on her hips and a perplexed huff, '... Now I have to go out for more firewood.'
…
The ‘stolen’ goods helped…the wood made Braigion able to cook some of the meat he would find from animals large and small; he was growing rather tired and physically ill from eating raw meat…but it was either eat or die. Braigion casted aside his worn cloak to use the new one the she-elf offered. He did not understand her; not one bit. The she-elf’s tongue was fair, her attire much more fitting for battle or travel. Braigion lit up at the thought-he had seen what he always thought of ever since he was small; civilized elves, but he never anticipated being afraid so.
With that encounter set aside, Braigion began to wander towards the south. The snow and cold eventually began to lessen, soon to enter into a fair forest land. Animals were far more abundant in this place…and Braigion considered this to be paradise (likely to be expected after weeks of wandering in the cold mountains). Even so, Braigion was on a hunting party; dispatching quite a few animals. Alas, they were too meager to satisfy a starving elf-who normally has a big appetite. Braigion was rather frustrated, and to add to the bad luck, it began to rain heavily. Braigion became savage and brought up reserved strength to keep awake, continuing to hunt.
The lone Avar stumbled across a great bear-it was big enough for a massive feast. Braigion set an arrow to his bow-string and shot it in the shoulder. The beast became enraged, looking over at who shot it. Braigion shot another arrow and it landed in the bear’s chest…he became confused-they were not doing anything! The arrow tips were dull, but they did some damage. The bear began to run towards the elf, and in response, Braigion casted aside his bow and drew one of his knives. The bear slashed across the elf’s upper arm and attempted to bite. Braigion, though having wounds, rolled aside and leapt atop of the beast, stabbing repetitively in the beast’s neck and head. The bear let out a roar and collapsed-dead, the elf rolling into the mud. Now stained with blood and the moist earth on his face and clothing, Braigion lay on the ground for a brief moment; a decent meal at last. He felt exhausted, and knew he would drift into oblivion soon. Though still tired of raw meat, he was too hungry to care…sitting up and kneeing his way over to the bear, skewered the fur and skin off the bear’s leg, and desperately ate two massive bites of muscle from it. With that done and content, Braigion fell onto the ground face first-he will gather the resources from his kill and wood for a fire when he wakes up.
…
Tinurendis halts when the droplets of blood took a sharp turn, leading to the corpse of a large bear and a figure sprawled on the ground. "Oh no, please no more dead bodies." She muttered, wiping away some matted wet hair from her face. Tinurendis clutched the hilt of her sword and approached slowly and heavily, boots sticking to the mud. Tinurendis glanced to the bear. Unmoving, eyes shut, a good chunk torn out of it. It was a sad sight, and she pitied it; animals were not meant for killing, but this one might have attacked. She frowned at the body on the ground, warily prodding it with her foot. "Ai. Are you alive?"
Braigion's breaths are quick, and his eyes are shut-possibly from exhaustion or some wound. His face and clothing is completely muddy and a bit bloody.
Tinurendis pursed her lips, and knelt slowly with caution. Examining closely, she could see his quiver with rapid breaths. She reached out and attempted to turn him over.
Braigion obviously was not fully out of it. Even after being prodded, that seemed to wake him up...and feeling someone near again, his eyes flared open and leapt to his feet, darting towards the tree.
Tinurendis yelped and stumbled back, falling on her bottom, head snapping in the direction of the stranger. "You!" she exclaimed, once pushing herself out of the mud, "the cloak thief!" Tinurendis switched to her native Silvan dialect. "Do you remember me? I am the one who gave you that blanket and wood from the camp. In Hithaeglir."
Braigion stayed in the shrubs of the pine tree, allowing the branches to obscure his figure. Of course, the bow he had was near the trees where the she-elf was...He merely stared with the awe and fear look.
Tinurendis kept her hands to her side and away from her weaponry, 'No need to be afraid, friend.' She tilted her head. "I saw you are injured. I can take you to find help."
Braigion slunk back again as the she-elf came closer, and crouched down.
Tinurendis took her chances, lifting the thin branch in her way and crouching beneath to near and glean a clearer look at the strange Elf.
Braigion darted off away from her again, out into the open once more.
Tinurendis followed. "Why do you run from me?! Look! I haven't hurt you!"
Braigion slunk back to the ground and unsheathed a boned dagger, "Dhen ú-chenion." He said in a shaky tone.
Tinurendis glanced to the knife and furrowed her brow. She held her hands up. "Fine, fine," she said, taking steps away. "At least tell me your name."
Tinurendis pointed at herself. "Me, Tinurendis." she started, and then pointed at him, "You?"
Braigion continued to stare and said nothing, his head tilting to the side.
Tinurendis pointed to herself again, and repeated longer and slower. "Tin-u-rend-dis."
Braigion appeared to finally get the meaning of what she was trying to say, "Tinurendis."
Tinurendis's brows rose, surprised, and a smile came upon her lips. "Yes, yes!" and then she pointed at Braigion. "You?"
Braigion stayed low to the ground and kept a fair distance away from the elf...giving her the meager and pleading look, as he eyed the bear corpse.
Tinurendis frowned, turning to where he looked and then back at him again. She looked as if she finally understood, and she nodded slowly. "Oooh! You were /hunting/!" Tinurendis nodded and let him go. "Come to Imladris sometime, when you are done. Look for Tinurendis."
Braigion continued to slink towards the corpse...still eying the elf, and tilted his head-confused at what she said, again.
Tinurendis watched him slink away, entirely confused and even intrigued. She made note to come back after she was done with the burial. Maybe she could get a name out of him then. Tinurendis waved and turned back to her path.
…
Braigion still felt tired despite his long rest. The rude awakening may have done something. No matter, he had to gather wood for fire to cook the bear’s meat and for warmth. This creature certainly has a lot of resources, and for that, the elf was glad.
