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[sparkstrikes]

Who: Lightning Farron & Geralt of Rivia
When: Sometime in October
Where: The Wilde
What: The truth about Shamblevine blossoms
Warnings: N/A

[Lightning and Geralt have been scouring the Wilde for hardly any time before she starts to feel her impatience settling in. She has no idea where these Shambevine beasts like to graze and hide, nor does she know any way of drawing them to her. Not to mention the thickness of the trees lining their path that make it that much harder to see anywhere past ten feet in front of them, and she even pauses every now and then to walk up and bush their branches aside. To no avail. Rustling and footsteps could be heard in the shadows, but they turned out to be nothing more than large birds flying off at their presence or squirrels foraging for food.

Enough is enough!

Eventually, she breaks the comfortable silence between the two of them with a groan.]

Gotta be a way to snuff them out. If we keep going like this, we're not gonna get back before dark.

[And she does not want to be out here past sundown...

She casts a sideways glance at Geralt, her lack of patience getting the best of her.]

There anything you got?

[You know, as a "Monster"... God, she still hates that word.]

Comments

[sparkstrikes]

[Lightning had managed, somehow, to dodge out of the way of its headbutt, leaping to one side to avoid it from tipping her over and stomping all over her, but she can feel the immediate burning of a scratch on her thigh. It had managed to nick her on its way out of the clearing and into the trees, but thankfully, the physical wound is nothing too serious—more like a papercut than anything else—but she knows what will come out of being sliced with one of their vines once the wound begins to worsen and whatever poison the vines are tipped in starts to settle.]

It got me, but I'll be fine... [Might as well have been a curse under her breath.] Guess my magic's not up to snuff yet.

[Which is annoying!! She mastered her l'Cie magic so quickly, so why not this!? Ignoring the consequences that are likely to come, her gaze follows the trail its left behind.]

Tch. Can't go far with all these trees, but let's not lose sight of it.

[gynvael]

[ It got her? Geralt peers at her leg with mild concern. Normally, he'd say with a witch, they won't be short on healing. But Lightning seems to have not as much of a grip on her magic as some of the others. A consequence, no doubt, of her lack of a bond.

Not that he's judging. He knows how it is. Guess they'll see what happens. ]

Just tell me if you feel...out of sorts.

[ He glances over in the direction the creature's run off to. Now that he has its scent and a fresh trail, there's no hurry to catch up. He bends to gather a handful of the mushrooms and moss it was rummaging for. Then he heads off, following the dirt tracks. ]

How's your sneaking?

[sparkstrikes]

[She doesn't feel quite as out of sorts at the moment, save for the strange tingling at the center of the wound. Besides that, she can walk on it well enough.]

Pretty good, if I'm not getting smacked around by trees.

[The bushes are easy to avoid. It's the low-hanging branches that are the issue, and just as the thought occurs to her, she stops short of walking into another.]

Why, you got a plan with those mushrooms?

[That hopefully doesn't involve magic, because that was an embarrassing back there.]

[gynvael]

[ Geralt accepts that answer, moving forward. He ducks through the low hanging branches, pushing a couple aside for her. Just so the snapping doesn't scare off the creature. ]

Bait. [ He stops short of the clearing up ahead. The Shamblevine has resumed nosing along the ground, digging into the dirt. ] It can't feel the flowers coming off. Come up behind when it's eating. Pick some off.

[ A few have fallen naturally -- brushed off the vines by the bushes it bumps into it in its blindness or because they've wilted off. Either way, seems not to bother it much.

He steps silently into the clearing, crouching down with the mushrooms in his hand. He's still, watching it amble around until it catches scent and begins cautiously approaching. ]

[sparkstrikes]

[Sneak up behind it and pick them off while it's eating?]

Not that good, [she blurts out, but pauses, lips pursing together in confusion. Did she mean to say that, or...? She's able to brush it off easily, shaking her head at herself as she crouches down in the trees, moving so that it puts her at an angle that's easier to approach from behind.

The Shamblevine sniffs at the mushrooms in Geralt's hand and it makes a low noise of approval(?) before approaching close enough to snatch them from him.

Lightning slides out of the bushes, keeping low to the ground and maintaining a safer distance this time. An arm reaches out to grab at a flower that's blossomed near its leg and she plucks it without a hitch, and she stuffs it into her pouch before trying for another. Except... the next one she sees is...

Will it feel it if she plucks a blossom from its rear?]

[gynvael]

[ One eyebrow lifts. Is she...? Geralt decides not to ask for now. They've come this far; he fully intends to take these damn flowers so he can ride back and have a drink.

So here he is. Baiting this creature. Lightning plucks the flowers at the back while Geralt quietly picks at the ones gathered atop the mass of vines on its back.

For a minute or two, it goes well enough. Then Lightning reaches for the blossom on its backside. The Shamblevine tenses with its snout buried in the ground and his hand still in the vines. Then it jumps, snorting in indignity.

He jerks back. The sudden shift of its body twists the thorny vines around his hand. It turns abruptly, kicks dirt in his direction, and flees. ]

Ah, fuck. [ He sighs, inspecting the scratches on his hand. So much for that. Still, they've got a handful of flowers. Un-crushed. The pay that adds up is almost worth the hassle.

He gets up. ] Remind me to gather flowers from stationary bushes next time.