Actaeon

A C T A E O N♫♫ THE RECLUSIVE HUNTER ╭━━━━━━━━╮ I N F O Gender: Male Mate: None ╰━━━━━━━━╯ ╭━━━━━━━━╮ R E L A T I O N S LOVER ??? ╰━━━━━━━━╯ ╭━━━━━━━━╮ Magic Abilities Gardener's Touch plants naturally thrive under his care, and he dutifully tends to his garden and plants with the slight aid of nature magic Gust uses wind magic to boost him across difficult terrain and increase the speed of his arrows Skills skilled chef experienced hunter Notes self loathing of his physical appearance ╰━━━━━━━━╯

╭━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╮ ". . ." ╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯ It rained lightly, the sky pelting the hunter Actaeon with soft, cold droplets. He lay crouched beneath the partial cover of a cedar tree, claws biting into malleable earth, face void of emotion but taut with concentration. The Imperial was faced with two decisions; Wait the rain out or return home and start preparing dinner early. A hushed, relenting sigh escaped past his lips and he stood, movements sluggish, limbs stiff from a chill that had begun to set in, bringing an uncomfortable ache with it. Today, there will be no game to hunt, not when all the animals are hiding from the weather. Actaeon walked slowly through the forest, wet mane clinging to his cheeks, green eyes a bright, stark contrast against his warmer scales. He walked quietly as if in a daze, the dropping temperatures having seemingly reached his mind. The hunter crosses a path and stops, looking to the right down the trail, silently observing the approaching figure of a smaller dragon. A dark, soaked blot of a Skydancer moves steadily, carrying the weight of the rain and wares to be sold, cradled by boxes and sacks that jostle musically against her lithe form of powerful muscle and iron bones. Striking, purple eyes meet Actaeon's own, her face slack and somewhat curious. Although she hesitates for a fleeting moment, she appears determined, even if the droop of her shoulders betray her exhaustion. Actaeon smiles warmly as she comes to a stop before him. "You work in weather like this?" He teases, as if he has known her for many years... But the Imperial has always been friendly with strangers. A mischievous quirk curls upon her lips. "Care to join me? I was just beginning to walk home... You could stay and wait for the rain to pass." Actaeon offers. "Is this what you often say to those you have never met before?" Her voice, a gentle lilting purr, brings a shiver crawling down his spine. "Sometimes." He smiles again, turning away to continue his walk through the woods, testing to see if she would follow. And slightly to his surprise, he realizes that she does, her footsteps so light upon the ground he can barely hear her. Actaeon kept his pace slow, mindful not to take long strides so that she could keep up. The walk was peaceful, neither choosing to speak and break the comfortable silence they had begun to cultivate between them. It was only the rain, their footsteps, and the sound of tinkling metal. Soon, Actaeon reaches a particularly thick bramble bush and with much effort, the hunter pushes it aside to reveal a floral-ridden cabin. Its roof is made of moss, weeds, and roots, ivy snarling across walls of mahogany. Two singled-paned circular windows sit on either side of a large door, aglow with the warmth of firelight, creating a rather inviting image for both of the shivering dragons. Actaeon kept the bush at bay, letting the Skydancer through before following her close behind. They had entered a small yard decorated with various potted plants and flowers that were scattered about. The hunter sighs softly as he reaches the large door of his cabin, a weary look settling across his handsome features. "Make yourself at home." He murmurs with a gentle smile, opening the door with one shoulder and stepping aside to let his companion in. After she has entered his home, the Imperial slips inside and closes the door behind him with a gentle click. Actaeon breathed a sigh of relief when the warmth of his cabin washed over him, the front door clicking shut and locking the dreary rain away. “Make yourself comfortable.” He hummed to the Skydancer, enjoying the feeling of soft carpet caressing his weary paws. They had entered the living room, which was furnished with a desk and chair at the far end, a couch and small table placed center, and a fireplace and mantle. There was a large throw rug on the hardwood floors, and a few paintings and decorations hung upon the walls. On the left side of the desk, about a couple meters away, was an open doorway. The other room was too dark to see anything. The Skydancer herself began to slip off her heavy wares and set them aside. When she was no longer wearing her items, she settled herself upon his couch that faced the fireplace, pulling a fur blanket over her chilled body. “What’s your name?” She asked quietly in her silken voice. The hunter stopped to stand before her. “Actaeon. And yours?” “Nott.” She returned his smile. “Thank you for your generous hospitality.” “You’re very welcome… I was just about to start dinner. Do you have any preference?” “Ah… Something warm, please.” The Imperial chuckled. “Alright love. I’ll make a soup then.” He made his way to the other room, disappearing inside. Soon, the strike of a match could be heard and the room was illuminated by firelight. Curious, Nott left the couch, tightly pulling the blanket around her shoulders, and drifted over to the doorway. Peeking inside, she watched the Imperial flit around a large kitchen lighting candles. An island was placed center in the room, and right behind it, was a large lit wood stove. A pot with water had already been placed on top. The walls were lined with counters and cabinets, and directly across from the doorway, was another circular window. It was dark outside now. It surprised Nott how much time had passed. As she watched the hunter, she could see that as he opened drawers and cabinets, most were packed with spices and herbs, metal and wooden utensils, and wooden dishes. Pulling a cutting board out, Actaeon set it on a counter and lay a few carrots across, beginning to rhythmically chop them into pieces with a fine knife. “Would you like to help me?” He asked suddenly, eyes flitting to her briefly before returning to the task at hand. “Alright. What would you have me do?” “In the lower cupboard on your right, you’ll find a sack of potatoes. The peeler is on the island. Peel five for me please.” Nodding, Nott followed his instructions. She found it difficult however to reach the peeler, given the size difference between their species, but soon she was boosted up by a stool that Actaeon had pushed over to her with his tail, a knowing playful smile curled upon his lips. They both worked dutifully that night, and soon enough, Nott delighted in the soup’s aroma as it cooked, bubbling atop the wood stove. Placing a metal lid upon the pot, Actaeon ushered her back into the living room. “We’ll give it half an hour. It’ll be ready by then.” Not couldn't help but notice how the palm of his paw lingered on the small of her back, but his gentle touch disappeared as she clambered onto the couch. She watched the flames of the fireplace crackle and flicker, feeling her eyelids grow heavy with exhaustion. “Ah, don’t fall asleep yet.” Actaeon whispered besides her, making his way to the mantle and pulling down a bottle of scotch. “Do you drink?” “On special occasions.” She replied slyly, pleased to have brought fourth a light chuckle from him. “Then let us make tonight a special occasion.” He set two glasses on the table before the couch (However, Nott had no idea where he had gotten them. The kitchen maybe?) and poured a small amount of the hard alcohol in each. Passing a rather large glass into her paws, he took his own and settled into the couch besides her, sipping his drink with a satisfied guttural sigh. Nott, taking a small drink, curled into the larger dragon, resting her head against his side. She could feel him stiffen, if only for a second, before relaxing. He shifted a bit and his tail curled around them both protectively. “Don’t let me forget the soup…” He murmured softly, looking down at her with enchanting green eyes. She returned his stare with a gentle smile. “I won’t.” Actaeon smiled then. “Thank you, for indulging me.” “You’re welcome, love." The trees are aflame with the warm colors of chilly autumn, whispering slightly as their branches sway in a gentle breeze. A short inhale and the bow is strung, aligned with the sharp gaze of a hunter, who currently observes the meadow below from his perch, hidden by the leaves of the large oak he sits upon. The Imperial’s face is slack in concentration, grip steady. As he exhales, he lets the arrow loose, watching it embed itself in the heart of the grazing stag. The beast instantly falls stiff upon the ground, dead. A smile curls upon his lips and he leaps down, returning his bow to his hip and approaching the recent kill. He picks the stag up by the antlers, examining its form, pleased to see that it would sustain him enough for a few days. Only in this forest would the prey be almost as large as their predators. There’s a rustle in the tree line to his left and he turns, eyes sparking with curiosity as he watches a Wildclaw enter the meadow. “Hello,” The stranger greets, his gaze a dark alluring red. As he turns his head to the side a bit, the hunter discovers that a large scar runs across his left eye. He finds it… attractive. “Do you know where the nearest settlement lies? I have lost the path I was following…” The Wildclaw trails off awkwardly, as if he is hesitant to admit is predicament. The Imperial chuckles warmly, pulling the arrow from the stag and cleaning it with the burlap sack that is draped across his shoulder. “I can lead you back to the path that you were following.” After the arrow is cleaned of blood, he returns it to its quiver and then proceeds to bag his kill within the sack, slinging it over his shoulder again, full this time. “In fact, my dwelling happens to be along the way of your journey.” “Thank you.” The Wildclaw murmurs, making his way over to the Imperial, eventually falling into step besides him. They walk in silence through the forest for awhile, listening to its sounds and the wind. The warrior (the hunter presumed he was a warrior from his kind of stature), walks confidently, but a frown is creased in his brow and his brooding eyes tumult with worry. “Does something ail you, my friend?” The Imperial inquires, his voice compassionate, kind, and slightly deep. “I am fine.” The Wildclaw states briskly. “When will we reach the path?” “Soon. But first…” The larger dragon trails off as he begins to push his way through some rampant bushes. As he worms his way through, the warrior following, a large cabin is revealed. Moss and an overgrowth of plants cover its roof. The structure is made of warm mahogany wood, and throughout the yard, potted flowers (and even a chair and table) lay about. “I need to put with beast into my cellar, or the meat will spoil upon my back.” The Wildclaw, quite perturbed and impatient, stood aside, glaring slightly as he watched the hunter open two large doors embedded within the ground. He clambered down some steps, disappearing below, before emerging again. Slamming the doors shut and clicking a padlock in place (which the Wildclaw was sure he didn’t have before), he resumed walking in the direction he was before. The warrior fell into step besides him again, quiet, but suddenly he spoke and asked, “Do you live alone, with no clan?” “That is correct.” The Imperial hummed, a small smile alighting his lips. His eyes swivel towards the smaller dragon. “Why do you ask?” “I could not imagine living alone, without a companion or the safety of a clan.” “Ah…” The hunter chuckled. “I see.” They reached a path made of light brown dirt, wide enough for a wagon to roll through. The Wildclaw turned to look at the other drake, curious. “What do you mean?” “What do I mean? Nothing, love. I’m merely just making an observation. A shame really,” He murmured, turing his attention on the path. “I believe this was the one you were following?” The Wildclaw nodded. “Yes. It was.” “Good. As much as I do not want to part with you, for I have immensely come to enjoy your company, I must take my leave. You shouldn’t lose yourself again, and in about an hours time, you’ll come across a rather agreeably quaint town.” A cheeky grin crosses his maw. “I’m sure the local ladies would love to meet a dragon as handsome as you. Farewell, friend. Safe travels. May we hopefully meet again!” With his last words spoken, he turns away, quickly disappearing into the forest from whence he came. Layout by Kintsy

Forester Squirrel Meat Over time, a family of these squirrels is capable of felling even ancient trees with their constant gnawing. 28 3 Red Maple Leaf Organics It's considered impolite to leaf through someone else's leaves! 23 Barkback Root Organics When planted, these roots produce fast-growing, if curiously aware trees. 42

The rain continued as a light drizzle for the rest of the night, a gentle lullaby that pattered softly on the mossy roof of Actaeon's cabin. The Imperial currently lay within the comforts of his bed, coiled around a small Skydancer nestled lovingly against his downy stomach. She slept soundly, warmed by his large tail draped lightly across her strudy form. It was too mild for them to use the satin sheets and fur blankets, and instead, they had settled on the idea of sharing their own warmth with each other. Actaeon smiled contentedly. Caught in a moment of admiration and bliss, his heart swelled with love. He gently ran his fingers through Nott's long silken mane, softer now after drying from today's monsoon. It shimmered in the modest light of the full moon, his talons glinting between rich strands of dark green. A shiver crawled up his paw, through his arm, and down his spine as he felt her satin hair glide over his scales like water, comforting. Leaning forwards, he pressed a tender kiss upon the top of her head, inhaling her scent--spring and morning dew.

"Mhm..." She breathed out softly as she rolled inwards, pressing her cheek against his chest, falling quickly back into the depths of sleep. An amused chuckle rumbled within his chest and he wrapped his right arm around her gingerly. Assured that she was there and this was not some tantalizing dream, Actaeon too let himself fall away into sleep.


He awoke early out of habit. The pale light of dawn peeked through his window and bathed his room in a peaceful grey light. Actaeon, much to his dissapointment, found himself alone. The only trace of the Skydancer from the night before was her fading scent imprinted against his scales and sheets. Stiffly, the hunter rose from his bed and dragged himself throughout the room to dress himself, the floorboards cold against the plump pads of his paws. As he draped himself in familiar clothing, his thoughts lingered on Nott, body tingling from the recollections of last night as he recalled her talons tracing patterns against his torso. He tried to pull himself away from the memory of her lithe body twitching beneath his touch as he exited his room, realizing from the sounds echoing in his kitchen that she was still here.

Of course she was. It was clear their newly formed relationship meant enough for her to stay.