////Closed Thread//////Winters Hiding Spot

red / Warrior rune.
yellow / Wall rune.
blue / Phero rune.

No mathematical equation hindered his academics which was a recurring problem. The lessons he was previously force fed diversified his intellectual capabilities far too greatly for such trivial lectures to satisfy. School itself was rapidly becoming a misspend, however, he found consolation within the walls of Caislin Hallows. To pacify likely dissatisfaction the boy acquired the trite position of lifeguard. More often than not he was triumphant with charges he favorably embraced so such an inferior responsibility was not taken very seriously.

Supervising the pool was something he had recently disregarded, however, the previous warden had performed trustworthy work judging by the condition it was in. Of course his azure eyes had yet to even inspect the pool, but that would soon change.

Winter was always so unsystematic. Snow a few inches here and there and simply vanish only to usually reinforce what was evaporating. Distol both loved and hated the glacial embrace of the spell, but during the season he would often opt for internal conditions. It was not that Distol had stalked the womanly traveler either, but instead it was an accidental coincidence. He was well armored for the wintry as one should be --a pair of firm and resilient pants as well as a shirt with an overcoat appropriate for the forecast. He was not untrained enough to overlook the apparent footsteps, but he did not monitor them and debate their origins as he should have. A second glance even would have established them as feminine, but Distol always questioned Gunnar Sigmund's involvement in damn near everything.

He outlined the footsteps and expanded them with his greater measurements but the identifiable trail served as a fair guide. The towering door suffered defeat to its second combatant and Distol entered ordinarily. He did not creep or charge, but his unexacting stroll was open-minded. He truly predicted the grizzled gunslinger practicing disco or some odd boogie, but when his eyes struck the crystal water and displayed the unknown girl with interests of reheating her body he felt foolishness shake him, but he was not the type of man that felt uncomfortable over incautious things. "Hello." A simple greeting would leak out as his eyes withdrew from her and probed the structure as if he was searching for some sort of private quarters.

A soft sigh escaped the pursed lips, head covered in tangling dark locks gathering and folding beneath the head as it laid against the ceramic edge of the warmed pool. The silence was almost enjoyable as the sound of water lapping against the walls of the pool echoed in through every crevice of the statues and stone curved architecture. The woman’s arms raised up above her head, causing beads of water to cascade over her face and shower what dry skin there was left with water droplets. Only then would the echo of the stone door closing caught her attention, but only for the moment as the long digits reached out and grasped into the nothing of the water, diving her hands into it’s warm depths.

The touch of warm was more than welcomed as the cold bitter winds of winter drove her almost insane. How cold it could be when it was just one lost soul buried in the snow drifts. It was her own fault for coming out here by herself, with a deep breath the body let go of it’s sitting position and the entirety of the girl disappeared under the surface of the water, leaving nothing more but the sight of steam scorching from the surface of the water. The dark bubble of the being floating beneath it’s surface the feeling of being encompassed by heat bringing back memories of her time in Australia, how she missed the warmth of the gentle sun, the echo of the birds in the forest. Simple things that could not be replaced by a new face or look of scenery.

Still the escape into the Pool House was thus far enjoyable, it had been just her alone again. Running away from the troubles of schooling the silly intentions of actually having to learn something. Yet she would not be put off by this, feet gripped the bottom of the pool, pushing herself back to the surface of the water. Like a small explosion water burst from it’s quiet holding place, carefully like a lion prowling after it’s prey she stood, hands gathering to run against the wet long locks, bringing them over her shoulder, starting to squeeze water from their fibers.

The sound of his voice alarmed her, causing her head to turn and crane against gravity to look upon this creature that danced with silence. The look she could pull from his face, made her think he came in chasing something that wasn’t here after all. With a slight smile upon her face, she used illusion to her advantage as a single hand raised to wave at the man that stood just off to the side, staring at the statues. Thinking he wouldn’t see her wave, her voice came, gentle yet firm with a hint of mystery.”Hello there Stranger.”

As predictable as ever Distol managed a calm composure. The puzzle occupying the pool was gifted with a greeting, however, he cared not for what succeeded the exchange. As he surveyed the pool for that exclusive room his customary strategic nature prevailed and the formations that riddled the substantial pool became indicators for any type of brawl. Mapping each and every inch of the territory as quickly as possible, but once he concluded the inspection his eyes were restored over the vanishing female who occupied the visibly steaming water even though submerged.

Accent . . . Australian. Exotic . . . attractive. Tattoo. Older --different.

Primitive vision qualified him to observe the wave even if it was a momentary thing. After the unforthcoming gesture his eyes were upon her for the duration of the conversation save for casual glimpses around the now familiar poolhouse to combat accusations of staring.

"Hello there stranger."

A smile arched alluring features. A single step towards the pool also occurred as well. "My name is Distol Beoulve. Mr. Sigmund apparently made me the lifeguard." After he expressed the sum of the words he temporarily reworked the target of his vision to the deepest location of the pool. When completed his eyes returned to her and he also eliminated the remaining footsteps to the border of the contained water and knelt down. His chilled fingers sank into the water as if to test the temperature of the liquid.

"You are not a vampire or a werewolf. Does that make you special?"

Body language was a favored exploit of Terrence Genova apparently and Distol quickly familiarized himself with it. Her advantageous attire did little to disturb him and as he repossed his investigating fingers and rested them on the victimized stone which discharged heat as well. This did not seem bother him as his body migrated to a seated position which favorably positioned his vulnerable feet away from the water in fear of becoming damp from the extreme sultriness of the heated haze that she thoroughly appreciated.

The conundrum her questionable actions caused almost tempted him, but he was not a tractable man. Prior falsities hardened him almost to a state of maturity. "He is a . . . peculiar man," a reference to Gunnar Sigmund. After her introduction he did not witness any type of offering of the flesh so his hands remained fixated on the flooring. "It's good to meet you, too Miss. Genova." He added shortly afterwards. Judging by how she observed him he intelligently assumed she was diagnosing him and possibly his capabilities, though such a thing was accomplished with a charming smile. The assessment passed and his impolite query achieved laughter. While this occurred the boy dug into his coat pocket and redeemed the mustard-colored orb. Initially he rolled it along his knuckles but when her words were no more and she balanced herself on the trim of the pool he had narrowly leaned forward and grinned at the suggestions she made prior to her return to the depths of the pool.

With a refined challenge in mind her suspension of the topic intrigued him. When stillness arrived his impulsive reply would disperse the silence following her dispute. "I suppose I'll begin at the beginning. I decided that you not one of those because of your appearance --your flesh gives you away. And I truly believe there are 'special'," he stated the word differently than the rest, "cases among us. Would it be incorrect to claim someone special if they are one of a kind?" Distol chuckled and shook his head as he turned his head to the side and gained absorption in whatever his eyes decided to ogle at. "I hope you don't debate everything with such spirit."

[i]What a strange man, he seemed to analyze her before she even spoke, still the deep circles of hazel watched him carefully. Who could know the true reason he was here, perhaps he was lying of the lifeguard position. Merely smiling at the man, the warmth of the pool becoming almost overwhelming as the body stayed submerged beneath it’s glimmering surface. As he spoke, she felt that she may have hit a nerve with the ‘specialty’ of every being within Caislin Hallows. Still, distress did not scar the surface with even a scratch as the smile upon the lips. The conversation seemed to be more body language and eye contact, yet the spoken words would have frightened off the weak hearted.

The mischievous grin stapled against darkened lips only waited a moment before fading like the droplets of water against her face. With a gentle smile along her lips, as he sat and moved favoring his boots from the water she’d only watch in slight amazement at this mustard colored orb he produced from what would seem, thin air. With a soft relaxed sigh escaping her, hands moved from the depths of the waters grasp, laying against the tiled floor causing puddles of water to form beneath the palms. It only took a moment, to lift her body from the depths of the water crawling onto the tiled floor her body turned and quickly sat a with Mister Beoulve, yet far enough from him so that the pools of water forming beneath her would not drift and ruin his delightful clothing.

The way he spoke made her laugh, gently and breathy as she didn’t want to be too loud as it seemed they were the only ones within the confines of the Pool House. Her legs stretched out, hands quickly following suit and laying against her thighs, hiding tattooed writing against the skin, legs that were stretched out, fell and dipped into the warmth of the pool. It may have been to hot for her entire body, but perhaps just her calves could take the heat. Face was flushed with a soft pink hue not a blush, but a hint that the water was truly warm and warming her from the inside out. Her right hand, stretched out across her body to the man on her left, opening her hand for a hand shake. ”It’s a pleasure to speak with such a mind, but it I may only add…Special…Is a sense of being, not a label for people or things. It’s true one may be special because of their uniqueness, but is it not also true, that the shine of a star fades and becomes dull and dank like the rest? At that point, are we still special? Or is it deducted only then?”

Her conversation with this man was quite interesting, she had only met him a moment ago, when any other woman would have perhaps been scared off by a strange man following her into the pool house, she accepted it and stayed to poke at his mind. It seemed their conversation gained some heat and they were tossing around words like vile pieces of acid. Still, a smile spread across her lips as she sat there with her hand held out towards him, her eyes moved now from his face to the mustard colored orb that he held, what a strange contraption that was. If this conversation ended well, she would have to find out about that.
[i]

The two excessively evaluated one another but there appeared to be an embryonic development of reliance at bloom. Though their discussion was peculiar and commanding there was an inoffensive suspicion which encouraged neutrality between them and even offered some amusement. The scuffle for supremacy still inhabited Distol as his hand became energetic and cast the orb soaring into the air. His eyes calculated the rate of its descend upon the climax of the flight and the same hand ascended to apprehend it before it collided with his own body. The action was continual as she mounted the heated stone and delivered herself out of the steaming pool. The operation involving the orb kept his eyes elsewhere and not upon her physique, however, eternal consciousness forced an inspection which led to the unearthing of the artwork that occupied her sun-kissed flesh.

After a dozen lobs his fingers imprisoned the orb and he lowered it in front of his face and studied it and for what felt like an instant he lost himself. This, stated a recognizable yet hidden voice, was supposed to grant the power of God. Truly a shame. Distol returned and privately nearly dropped the orb, but composure endured and the spasm finished before it became noticeable. By good fortune her words had just begin and he was able to perceive them without fault. Firstly he noticed her hand she had recently put forward. Without hesitation his fingers fit against hers and their limbs fulfilled the shake, yet his hand remained.

"Everything experiences death, Miss. Genova," his eyes adjusted to her feet which hid in the waters, "That star may have been special its entire life, but like everything else, it fades away. Nothing can stop you from being special, but in the end you have decide if it was worth it. So perhaps we'll never know, but there is something that I do know." Distol cleared his throat and equipped a smile as his fingers finally abandoned hers and he pointed at the pool, "The recommendation for the standard hot tub or hot spring is one hundred and four degrees. Some question it and say one hundred and two, but they are incorrect. This particular pool is one hundred and eleven degrees which is over the physical safety threshold. I wonder if you could earn anything from suing the school. It would be a first probably," his eyes returned to her features and with an unwavering smile to match her own.

The irembrace was insignificant and momentary. His humorous fact was parried with a presumed measure of sobriety and he had previously ignored the variety when it came to the assortment of characters. Immediately he contemplated if such an actuality declared him 'word-perfect' when it came to the title of 'special'. What a paradox.

When the debate seemed lifeless and conversation was scarce his eyes identified the blue illumination gripping her arm, however the excitement in her eyes and the shriek of the name --
"Dionysus!"
alerted Distol like a shot. Dionysus. His mind hunted for a clarification of the name he was acquainted with. His recollection was quite similar to a properly categorized filing cabinet. Greek, mythology, god of wine, agriculture, fertility. The dossier for the origin of Miss. Genova's familiar was complete. His sapphire orbs followed the unrest all the way the door where she seemed to accidentally disregard the current climate. Thermodynamics. Prolonged immediate exposure would critically diminish her already deteriorated temperature equilibrium. With a heightened perception his eyes uncovered the scurrying critter that hightailed to the water, but he could not identify it. The splatter of the summery liquid jabbed at Distol in an attempt to saturate him, but before such a thing occurred the biotic had amassed a golden divider. His left hand had lifted and seemed to promote the sudden barricade and it also was embellished with the safeguarding wall's golden taint. Oddly Distol did not move --petrification gripped the boy though there was no exterior transformation. When the splash concluded Distol released the wall and the dazzle too drew to a close and once again he became mobile yet again, the motionless water falling to the stone inches in front of him.

When movability was granted he slowly stood and stretched as if stilling his limbs felt abnormal and disturbed the tranquil consciousness he previously held onto. Regardless the water did not sully his attire quite yet. When she apologized he laughed and shook his head quickly as fascination pursued, "Don't worry, Miss. Genova. Was that a lizard?" He joined her near the pool and swept the water for her pet with little luck.

Her reiterating of the creatures name was something he had already become mindful of. Though sometimes selective, his hearing was beyond the standard and rather unremitting. His senses were continual swelling, but the implants were to blame for such a thing. It felt that as he matured more authority over the runes and their mysterious energy was granted to him, thus more power.

It was her next statement that struck Distol abnormally. He was the type of man that was intended to know everything. His brain was extraordinary and harvested anything and everything it could --even in enormous proportions when the hastening Fortune Rune was installed, but to become aware of the actuality of a dragon disturbed him. Never in all of his hazardous experiments or 'lessons' had he learned of such a living being. He learned the facts and as he explored his understanding for intelligence concerning dragons the only result was the typical mythologies of old. The ramification of not recognizing the dragon was simple; Distol reacted like the human he secretly was.

"Really?" He chuckled, but it was not of a nervous nature, instead it was utter fascination. Never before had he encountered such a thing as he was raised in a domain of realists. Distol, as a patient, was never anticipated to live such a free life. If Caislin Hallows had been predicted then he would be aware of such oddities and it would come to him far more naturally. It was sometimes questionable if he was the most unenlightened when it came to this almost imagined situation. His knowledge of vampires, werewolves and especially creatures like dragons was entirely recent. He was not equip for such fantasying, but he quickly evolved. "A Blue-Sea Dragon," he repeated in a murmur. His eyes were stable on the dragon, but there was no threat in the azure orbs. The dragon mounted her body and arrived upon her shoulder with ease and agility and his tail swiftly coiled around her arm as if that was its ordinary pose. "He's little," Distol indicated as he lifted his empty left hand and tantalized the dragon. Judging from its reaction he would arrange further instructions for the hand. If accepted he would offer to stroke its chin, however, if responded to with hostility the hand lowered and Distol shrugged it off as an idiosyncrasy or defensive ruse. Also regardless with how his offer was accepted he questioned its origin before it badgered him to death, "Your accent is . . . Australian . . . most likely rural. Is that where you found him?" He held an open-minded expression throughout the interaction, but after he spoke his eyes finally switched from Dionysus and to the charming woman he was perched upon.

Hunni Genova just may be the most ordinary person he had encountered. This of course contradicted their foundational bickering, but the more he discovered the more he was convinced. Well everything thus far excluding the fact that she had a domesticated baby dragon.

His approach was kindly received by the dragon who pushed his muzzle against Distol's hand with pressure, but the boy reinforced his arm and allowed the dragon to relieve a developing itch. Distol met the kindness of her dragon with a pleasant smile, evading succeeding head-butting and simply itching behind the dragon's left ear which was the greatest distance from its caretaker. "I helped another student get a pet," he admitted with a quick chuckle --maybe this was a popular thing, however, he had no desire for such a responsibility. Perhaps a kitten, but Caislin Hallows was no place for such a classic.

When she spoke of the dragon appreciating his touch and not disapproving he nodded and withdrew his caress. "That is a good thing. Also," he looked toward the water and smiled smugly, "if you call me Distol I'll call you Hunni. Sound like a deal?"

Distol's eyes studied the water and the notion of testing it first hand interested him. Not an initial thought, but after he previously on looked as Hunni relished in the waters he lusted for the same even if the temperature was a small threat. "I have an ear for accents. Are you finished swimming? I don't want to intrude, but it's tempting." He referred to the water of course.

Distol bore no noxious intentions, but how was a person he was unfamiliar with going to be aware of such a thing? Nervousness was something he understood even if no such feeling afflicted him. If you were to be his opponent he wouldn't shroud it --no, that wasn't his style. "I understand what you're saying, but I feel differently." It appeared they would elude this disagreement which was a favorable thing. When she shrugged he shrugged as well and the two of them simultaneously adjusted to face the water. His eyes detected the wavelet her immersion caused and he classically smiled as he discovered he did such a thing far too much.

When she verbally analyzed his name he glanced at her with a questionable peer as if he was undecided as to why she would recite his name, but regardless he deemed it enchanting and dismissed it with a chuckle. Hearing her dispute over how to address him was also amusing. His eyes broke the temporary stare at the water which settled after her prior intrusion and arrived at Dionysus and then shifted to her, "I've never considered it in that way. My last name is just a last name and if we never get past them how can we call each other a friend?"

Distol stood up when their current discussion was finished. Use of the Wall Rune left him stiff, but he often shrugged it off as a result of immobilizing himself which fairly made sense. "Well, Hunni . . .," now he was simply mimicking her, "If you left without being satisfied I'd be quite the deficient lifeguard." Distol was now stretching --and not because it is adviced prior to swimming, but simply to avoid later cramping due to the the runes' use. His hands removed the overcoat, his body trimmed of the warming device. He took a few steps away, avoiding the roaming Dionysus even though he was nearly made clumsy by the creature who ran to Hunni who was not battling him for the control over the bag. Distol reached an area for sitting and pitched the coat to safety away from the water.

Next the shirt vacated his body and was dispatched to the same chair. His boots, socks and belt followed and after some fighting his pants revealed the white swimming trunks that stretched just past his knees. On the side was a larger letter 'C' and miniature font followed with the text 'ross', creating the logo for the corporation he worked for. Previously hidden beneath his attire was a muscly body, Distol finished tending to his clothing and moved to return to Hunni, his hands up and behind his head as he watched her, prevailing with the brown bag finally. "What's that?" he calmly questioned, his foot now the dipping tool used to test the water which he discovered was just as hot as he predicted.

The fact that their conversations always pulled some kind of gravitational pull to the negatives, where they would start to buck horns but in all cases they quickly eluded the situation moving along to the next like a quick sudden wave passing through. With a soft breath the body leaned forward the acknowledgement of him leaving her side only protruded by the way her body relaxed, stretched without consent and forced her legs deeper into the water to the point she might as well just slide back in. Still, the steam would rise as the colder temperatured body parts dangled within the gravity-less water. Still, there was a sense of calmness within the form, forcing the usually dangerous and overly energetic girl to come to her most appealing point. The stranger, she had always called it from the outside looking in, she was but this normal child who grew up in an exotic place with beautiful creatures. Graced upon with a Dragon of her very own, but nothing wiser came from the child-like girl that sat and played with the water before him now.

His gesture on friendship sent shrills of excitement through her spine, a friend. How convenient would that be to have someone to call, friend. Yet with those large hazel marbles they shot towards Distol for but a moment before breaking free from the firmed face back to the gentle caress of the waters warmth. ’’Just a name, but it is who you introduce yourself as…I know a name does not make a person, but it is quite helpful on making the being who they are…’’ Her words, she did not know if he would catch them or not as he rose from his spot and ventured within the grasps of the foggy tunnels. Thoughts on venturing through the bridged water gaps to further investigate the vast expanse of this pool house. Still, her newly found companion could be quite intriguing with the words he spoke like riddle.

The squirming Dionysus seemed thrilled to have such an interesting man to poke and prod at, she hadn’t allowed this dragon creature to meet very many people due to the lengthened rules of the school keeping outside just seemed easier than trying to feed him pills to warm his ice breath back into just stream. With her arms reaching out above her head, stretching the caramel canvas covered with dark tribal ink along her arms and back coming to her side an wrapping in design on her stomach. A small squeak came from her as she quickly reverted to her lazy stance, hunched over playing with the water. When he asked what it was she held in her hands, her head quickly shot in a slant towards him the hazel marbles searching over his now revealing form. With a slight smirk pressed against purple tainted lips she shook the bag before him. ’’Why don’t you come and see. Here, hold my hand think of something, small and precious that you would like to have right now, then reach inside.’’

With that said, the mystery pouring from her lips like some sort of venom. The entire form twisted in spot, leg folding just slightly as her foot hung off the side of the pool toes dipping into the water as her right leg stayed dipped within it. Her left hand outstretched towards him, palm up as she tempted his curiosity. The bag in her right hand, held by thumb and forefinger as she shook it before him in a teasing sensation, ‘’Distol, my friend, will you let curiosity tempt?’’ As she spoke that Dragon tail lashed out, swirling within the air as even the Dragon was interested on what Distol would do, leaning towards Distol, tongue flickering out against the taste of the new found energy within the air. Dionysus loved the taste of the air every time that bag opened.

Was it simply Distol that had been shrouding his words in the shape of riddles, or instead the two of them? Almost of all his discussions since his arrival had been such mystifying enigmas that it became nothing but expected, something average and unexceptional.

’’Just a name, but it is who you introduce yourself as…I know a name does not make a person, but it is quite helpful on making the being who they are…’

Her words reached him as he was momentarily distanced, but Distol was not the type of character that would shout a rejoinder, but of course his mind rallied a response yet it was discarded and forgotten and just like that another topic was dispensed with. Distol's heightened understanding and insight had allowed him to read Dionysus better than most could and upon arrival he inspected the creature. After their initial fondle Distol was certain that the childish dragon would never attack without vindication and such a motive would be harm upon Hunni Genova, which certainly would not arise. Distol still challenged the responsibilities of a pet, however, he could noticeably confirm the heartening affection Dionysus and his keeper shared which could make it worth the effort.

’’Why don’t you come and see. Here, hold my hand think of something, small and precious that you would like to have right now, then reach inside.’’

When he became aware of what the bag was capable of a nonchalant shrug was the retaliation his body provided. He also mimicked her actions and reworked the direction of his body, extracting his limb from the water before securing a stance and investigating Hunni, her crafty yet winsome smirk, and the baffling leather bag she offered to him.

‘’Distol, my friend, will you let curiosity tempt?’’

Distol heeded the interest of Dionysus as well as Hunni who taunted him still. "I don't know," he said in an untroubled tone, "there's really nothing I want." What was something he desired . . . anything. The boy searched his mind and eventually shrugged once again, lifting his right hand and with heedfulness descended his hand against her own so that they were embracing once again.

Surely her bag can't create something I'm thinking of, but if that is what she is going to try then make a miniature toy version of Dionysus, a figurine.

With that thought in mind his left hand inserted itself into the bag and remained there as his eyes fastened on her own.

"Really."

His tone of voice was curt, the word itself powerful and driven. The originator of that word, and the words to follow, was unaffected by the witchery of her bag. He did not waste his breath and time spouting off meaningless words and turning worthless phrases. Every single utterance cadenced and defined by his lips had a purpose.

"I've never thought about such a thing," but indeed the bag equaled his conjuration. The words were pronounced meticulously. They came swiftly and were silkily-stitched by a silver-point needled tongue. Distol inspected her gleam as his hand endured the leathered purse and he ultimately submitted to a smile, "You look so excited," he included before surprising her with the unrevealed generation of her shamanistic pouch. His digits were not required to rummage blindly in the bag as the object landed in his horizontal hand due to the vibrations caused by her shaking hands.

Without further lingering Distol extracted his hand which gently gripped the manifestation, the statuette of the dragon currently furnishing her sun-kissed shoulder. Distol's smile evolved into a sneer as he demonstrated it to both Hunni and Dionysus. "So the bag transfigures thoughts into entities? Freaky," he said with a laugh as his eyes tracked hers and fell to his shorts. His contemptuous smile was the reaction to the text, however, a clarification followed. "I worked there before I was sent here. I was hired through contractors to do various things. A simple job," was his straightforward definition. His eyes lifted and located hers yet again. "Lets play a game, Hunni. You ask me anything you want and I get to ask any question I want. Sound fair?" He had begun to casually sling the orb into the air as if it had taken the place of the mundane orb or was necessary to fulfill a habit.

“There are strange things in this world, a part of it I may be, but a very small part…”

Such words paralyzed him temporarily. He could pass the time of day with Miss. Genova forevermore –or at least that was how he felt. He felt contentment through their exchange of views and behind his doubt-filled mien was a hint of developing admiration and possible adoration, however, Distol Beoulve was not exactly on the same understanding that his feelings were more often than not. Extracted, the orb of the sculpture was presented and when overlooked he bent and placed it on the tepid stone his body previously inhabited when lying.

“We’re all strange in one way or another.” Distol had counted such a thing as an ethical reply. It was the truth. Every existing component of Caislin Hallows –no, the entire world, though homogenous, were comparatively dissimilar. Be it physical or mental none were identical.

After the half-truth retired from his lips and received the dithering final observation from the exotic eyeful it seemed she dematerialized, however, the rebelling water revealed her location even though she was submerged. Distol stood and stretched before his body inherited a kneeling posture and his glance was detained by the waters counteraction and it even tugged activity in the form of a smile.


‘’Alright Mister Beoulve, I will play your game…First things first…Any question I want…Will you follow me?’’

Her words were met with silence. Sky blue eyes assaulted what portion of her body they could until hers hand took action and relocated to his face for that single heartbeat,

’’Will you follow.’’

Ordinarily he would sweep the jeer aside, however, something propelled him to react, “That’s your question, Hunni?” He said with a smart laugh prior to the shifting of his limbs, his hands now gripping the safeguarding dividing line that helped contain the water in the stone descend. “Also,” he added as he adjusted his legs with ease and entered the searing water with little response other than a controlling exhale which supported a calm state for the sudden modification to the core temperature of his anatomy, but at that moment his eyes quickly flashed to the luminescent armlet she owned and also it was roughly at the same time that she plunged back into the water.

Distol lacked the aid of a supporting creature gifted with superior swimming, but he would manage. A few seconds following her plunge and a deep inhalation he moved to conquer the route and eliminate the distance between them. He overcame the underwater course with mastery, crossing the threshold into this exclusive zone with little requirements to infiltrate, yet was easily neglected and overlooked. The first thing in this alternative pool that Distol embraced was Hunni’s left leg, his hand guided to it and from there he surfaced, emerging in front of her and immediately shaking his head which upset the pile of colorless bangs that had the possibility of interrupting his sight, “I thought we agreed to not call each other by titles?” He was finally able to complete his sentence.

The ambition of his hands caress was not to incite terror, but instead pinpoint where the couple had swam to. While her squeal was absent his ears, his embracing digits detected the distress so when he surfaced and united with her his hand was retracted and the impermanent and incidental fondle was repelled by a swift word. “Sorry.”

Distol took the recess to inspect their new surroundings. It held many similarities to the previous sector, however, it was quite divergent and strange. Distol’s eyes immediately discovered a door that was vaguely gaping at the top and roughly seven feet from the floor. A mere two active torches lit the entirety of this compound which Distol questioned, however, magic was a frequent component of Caislin Hallows so he let such a thing slide. Four statues that also served as balusters kept this reserved area unfaltering. Surrounding the pool was a compact footpath that seemed to lead to this mostly shut entry/exit that he noticed previously. Before long his eyes returned to the exotic beauty as she announced her apology that Distol warded off with a snicker before he moved around her and entered a more shallow section and stood with intentions of walking to the outermost portion of the pool where the water was waist-high.

“Is that your question Distol..?”

Her deception was responded to with a chuckle as he shook his head, gripped the stone railing and jumped, rotated and landed on the flooring with a thump of his now saturated shorts greeting the stone. “Look at you being sneaky. I suppose it was, you jerk.” Distol reclined back with both of his hands beyond his body and reinforcing him as he reclined on his hands. “Be careful Hunni –I’m onto you.” he uttered with a smirk with his eyes now focused on her.