Slender, nimble fingertips submerged themselves in a rich, silken salve. The smell of the iridescent liquid drifted through the air; the dark scent of  blended  deep purple violets in a hypnotic chypre of sueded dark leathers, aged patchouli, midnight-black amber, and a narcotic swirl of opium.  â€œAh, Jadeâ€¦the beautiful lady who cuts the threads of life as Atropa Belladonna. Iâ€™m pleased that you approve of your maintenance,â€ Zara whispered as she began to lace the glaiveâ€™s intricate and shallow blade. In the darkened silver metal there seemed to be a tinge of emeralds, teals, sapphires, and violet shades only visible to the careful eye. Her azure-blue eyes drifted over towards the menacing obsidian glaive upon the makeshift fur bed on the floor. â€œNow Armada donâ€™t get jealous, you know you are nextâ€¦â€  she replied to the silent dark glaive and nodded her head in affirmation. She set â€˜Jadeâ€™ down upon the table to scoop up Armada within her arms. Her fingertips caressed the blackened metal of the blade like an old lover. She took her time to see where the dull spots had hidden themselves before taking a sharpening stone skillfully to the weapon. It glittered in the light with laughter as the only sound which filled the room was the sound of stone on steel and Zaraâ€™s breath lingering within the air. Jade remained on the counter unmoving; silently observing the interaction having already been satisfied with her new poison.<br/><br/>Zaraâ€™s mind wandered slightly as the pendant around her neck suddenly felt so heavy; as if she had just noticed itâ€™s weight. Her smile slowly faded and the grinding slowed as she dropped the stone and gripped Armada within her left hand. The realization of how long it had been without true contact to anyone other than a trader. A friend? She had Jade and Armada, they would never leave her. A lover? The thought sat heavy within her heart as she recalled the memory of the individual she had claimed her weapons from; but staring back at their metal sheen and wicked curvature, she became resolute in the idea and conviction that it was all worth it. They had been so unhappy where they were. She had to free them from their oppressive binds and give them someone who could understand them. Only she could fully understand.<br/><br/>She took her forearm to her forehead to wipe the sweat from her brow. She had been so observed in her task that she hadnâ€™t realized the temperature had risen significantly. She frowned slightly and brought her companions and a stack of bundled cloth with her towards the nearby pond. The water slipped and swirled around her skin and cooled the aching muscles. She drenched her hair in the cleansing liquid and the unruly strands tamed themselves save for the slight waves and curl that soon emerged from the once straightened dark strands. She lingered for a while, enjoying the cooling sensation upon her skin as she washed the dirt and grime off from her visage. It was a short lived comfort as he glanced to the weapons on the bank.<br/><br/>She moved through the water like a willow branch in the autumn breeze and pulled herself back up onto the bank to fix her attire. A pair of patched leather pants slithered their way up her legs as she secured them before pulling on a thick pair of combat boots. The buckles were perhaps her favorite part; and always brought a smile to her face for a reason she couldnâ€™t quite distinguish for herself.  Her satchel settled itself around her waist and she checked to make sure that all of her vials were still present within.  Seeing that they were she laced up her gray tunic which craftily hugged her fit, feminine form. She tucked the pendant she had stolen into her cleavage so that only a silver chain could be seen. The huntress, or thief, depending on the day, wrapped her well worn cloak about her shoulders. It was a dusky green with a deep olive hue and perhaps had once been edged with gold that now had been torn due to weather, travel, or otherwise.<br/><br/>As she latched her bracers to her wrist and her knives to her left thigh, a sudden, quick movement caught her eye. A fox darted through the brush followed closely by a wolf. They headed west bound. She grabbed Armada and Jade and headed after them quickly. Her movements were nimble and crafted as she sought her prey. She wasnâ€™t necessarily short of food. In fact she was well supplied having collected a horde of game and fruit over her short stay in this area. It was her subconscious that drove her in this hunt. Fox, a ghost of a memory; what someone had called her once. As much as she hated to admit it, she held a kindred bond with the quick, keen animal. As she caught her sight on the wolf she flipped Armada within her hand. â€œSever, Armaâ€¦â€ she whispered quietly as the glaive glided elegantly through the air like an eagle towards a mouse as it struck true. Blood sprayed like a crimson geyser speckling the foliage in an artful splatter. She stalked towards the carcass as the fox peered over itâ€™s shoulder and in a split second of fright darted away.  She found her fallen companion in the ground; waiting triumphantly in all his glory. Proudly he stood embedded within the ground as his master returned to retrieve him.<br/><br/>Dizziness began to take her and she stumbled forward to grip his middle at the hilt. Cursing she knew what was coming; she had felt this sensation before. She could almost hear the whisper in her head;<span style="font-style: italic">â€Fox....</span>â€, trailing off and receding back into her memories as the world went dark. She clutched the glaives in her hands tightly. Even within the darkness; she would not be torn from them. Armada glinted in the fading light in agreement as the curved of the blade seemed to scowl unamused.<br/><br/>Her eyes fluttered as her sight returned to her; she was drowsy but her fists were still clenched firmly around the center grips of her glaives. She rolled forward and righted herself in a crouched position; Armada to her left and Jade to her right. She cursed once more while peering out from the safety of her hooded cloak at everyone around her. She tried to stop herself from scanning for that one particular face; but couldnâ€™t. She scanned in a conical view from her point and remained low to the ground. The huntress did not like being cornered; and she didnâ€™t necessarily know why she was brought here. Like all pessimists; she assumed the worst.<br/><br/>And then some others started being friendly and introducing themselves to the others...<span style="font-style: italic">Don't tell me...</span>. The woman with the mouth of a sailor cursed again but didn't move; clearly ready to maim whatever got close to her in defense of her companions. And by companions; she solely meant Jade and Armada.