The man halted, a small doe over his broad shoulders and held fast by its hooves in his large, gloved hands. Four rabbits hanging from a thick leather belt, their bodies stretched down his hip by gravity. Although death had claimed the creatures, their glassy eyes seemed to watch the woman as she rose to her feet.
He was as tall as he was strong, a middle aged, dominant figure in a woodland filled with large creatures, and he seemed in place. The dark leathers upon his body, worn, supple and well cared for, offered him some camouflage among leafy shadows and twisted branches. The shock of golden hair, pulled back in twine, a shade lighter than his carefully tended beard. A hatchet and blade were upon his other hip. Though if anything, it was his eyes she recognised, the palest of green and a softness to them that seemed out of place to a man of his stature.
Many seasons had passed since their last meeting, though her hound, ever more protective, every muscle tense in his body, did not know his scent and slowly advanced. Murmuring " Healte", her hand gestured carefully for the dog to fall back to her side and he obediently did so. Yet her word did nothing to make the hound any less alert, kept back by a mere word, he waited, just as tense, for his next command.
The man for his part stood as still as could be, that is until a boy, no older than his fifteenth year ran up, crashing through the undergrowth, branches clutched to his breast, his clothing mostly simple linen yet his boots just as sturdy as the mans, a cord held about his waist a simple sheath of leather which encased a small dagger and a short bow upon his back. The child lifted his free hand up in greeting "Alright there Miss?! Could have waited Pa!". The hound slowly, deliberately, moved his large paw forward and tried to edge closer, its teeth, gleaming white, bare to the child as it began its gradual advance. The wiry looking boy suddenly noticing the danger, stepped behind his father, the man ushering him there with a protective arm as Dernwynn once more gave the command, this time more forcibly, and as before, the hound obeyed.
"Ferran? It is you?" Of course, she knew it was. They had shared many a meal together, told tales and seen hardships. She then looked past the mans arm, to the boy, almost the spit of his father and peeking behind him at her through curiosity. "That cannot be Nyle! He was so short!". For her questions, the man simply gave a slow nod, and at that moment, any tension, any fear, melted into the ground beneath her feet, replaced by joy.
The dog sensing her change in mood followed along at her side as she hurried toward the man, her eyes bright with happiness, her smile as wide as a crescent moon and met by deep, rich laughter from the man who dropped his prey to embrace her tightly, lifting her up and spinning her around in his hold before setting her back down upon the ground.
"Is he here?! Are you all here?!" She looked into his eyes with hope...
.
