Killling it with softness
[08:29] Synin (karlotte.shelman) walked in to the cave as to ensure she did store all the rence. When her eyes fall upon an unknown figure. “Greetings.” she offered curious but kindly.
[08:33] Xylara1111 skittered back against the wall of rock, trying to hide herself in the shadows. But the crevice wasn’t that large and whoever had entered must have seen her. Trying to think fast, Xylara scrambled to grab some rence. “Greetings, I…I was up early so I started on the rence.” SHe lied pretending like she belonged here.
[08:36] Synin (karlotte.shelman) could tell something was amiss. She was a slave of an Assassin for most of her years. Surely none knew or she would no longer breath and tell. But keen eyes observed the quick response and felt it was untrue. Still she had a kind heart and her voice would be warm and friendly “Well that would be odd?” she replied. “I did care for them not that long ago.” she spoke truthful.
When she noted the face battered and bloody she instantly grew worried.” Ohhh you are hurt.” she closed the distance unaware of any danger that might lurk in such an approach.
[08:39] Xylara1111: The other woman stiffened, her wary eyes narrowing as Synin drew closer. She instinctively flinched back, her battered face hardening into a mask of suspicion. Her voice, clipped and sharp, betrayed her unease. She rubbed at her arm absently, a half-concealed wince betraying the pain she tried to hide. Her gaze flicked over Synin, calculating, her body tensed as if expecting betrayal. “Worry about yourself. I’ll handle myself.”
It was a dismissal, curt and final, but there was a flicker of something else beneath her guarded demeanor. Was it mistrust? Fear? Or perhaps the faintest glimmer of gratitude she couldn’t afford to show? Whatever it was, she quickly buried it, her battered face turning away as she resumed her task, keeping her distance from Synin like a wounded animal too proud—or too wary—to accept help.
[08:44] Synin (karlotte.shelman) eyes study her calculatingly. She was measured, careful even when it came to how she was perceived but when someone needed care she would play mother wolf instantly. Her eyes scan her warm and yet alarmed too.
“Forgive me, I did not want to insinuate you couldn’t handle yourself. Surely you have not done this to yourself?” she reasons. “Perhaps I should be weary now too for that to happen to me ?” she questions.
“Please let me bring you to a warmer spot and see to those wounds?” she again suggested, betraying more knowledge than most slaves would have gained in their life. “You look cold too.” she added as to give more than enough arguments to let her help her or bring her at least to a spot she was safe and sound.
[08:49] Xylara1111: “You’re quick with your words,” Xylara said, her tone low and guarded, though a hint of grudging respect colored her words. “Too quick for someone who’s supposed to be…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes drifted deliberately to the slave’s collar. The glint of metal caught the faint light, and Xylara’s expression shifted—subtle, but enough to betray a flicker of suspicion mingled with curiosity. Her gaze lingered on the collar for abeat too long, as if trying to decipher the story it told.
She paused, studying Synin as though trying to see past the surface. Finally, she exhaled, a soft but sharp sound, and added, “If you’re so set on helping, don’t make a fuss. Find me some cloth and clean water. That’s all I need. And don’t think I owe you anything for it.” Her tone softened slightly, though the edge of caution remained. “And be careful where your kindness takes you. Not everyone sees it as a virtue.” The warning hung in the air as she turned slightly, keeping her eyes on Synin, still
[08:49] Xylara1111: unwilling to let her guard down entirely.
[08:55] Synin (karlotte.shelman) eyes grew large at the reply “Quick?” she answers puzzled. The look upon her collar, her attire was noted. The collar a new one – the one of her previous master was taken from her. The only thing that might tell that there was history is the two brands upon her thigh in which the one of the North newest.
“Clothes and clean water?” she asks. Her eyes falling upon the collar of the girl and reading the words upon it – at least if she was right from this far. “From what I see you are in no position to command.” she replied – her voice still kind – but sure of that she was still under her the scrutiny of others.
“Well my kindness has taken me to safety and warmth.” she replied. Not that long ago she had feared for her life and here she was fed, cared for and warm. “Perhaps you can give that a try and come with me. Such might surprise you when it comes to the returns.” she suggested still in fully conviction that when life gave you lemons you would make lemonade.
[09:00] Xylara1111: Xylara’s gaze flicked down momentarily, catching sight of the faint outline of brands on Synin’s thigh, her lips pressing into a thin, grim line. The sight of them made her stomach tighten, but she said nothing at first, her expression carefully neutral.
When Synin’s words reached her—calm, kind, yet with an undeniable edge of conviction—Xylara’s eyes narrowed, a mix of suspicion and frustration flashing across her face. She shifted her stance, one foot edging back as though preparing to bolt if the situation soured.
“You think you’re safe because you’re warm and fed?” Xylara asked, her tone sharp, though quieter than before. Her gaze darted around their surroundings, scanning for any potential ears listening in. “Safety isn’t a place or a feeling, girl. It’s something you take for yourself—and hold onto with bloodied hands if you have to.”
She glanced down at her collar briefly, her fingers brushing the worn leather, and her voice dropped lower, tinged with bitterness. “You
[09:00] Xylara1111: wouldn’t understand. Not with marks like those,” she added, nodding subtly toward Synin’s branded thigh. “You’ve been claimed twice over. Some men find their worth in that. I’m not one of them.”
Xylara hesitated, the weight of her decision clear in the silence that followed. Finally, she exhaled sharply, as if releasing a held breath. “Fine. Lead me to your ‘warmth and safety,’ if that’s what you’re so determined to do. But don’t think for a second it makes us friends, or that I trust you.”
[09:08] Synin (karlotte.shelman) was a push over. Too kind for her own good and yet knew the difficulty of life. In anything she hardly had it easy. Taken from Earth by the kurri, crashing in their ship near Laura, being owned by a cold and hardly loving assassin. She had her scratches but she was determined not to grow bitter. That emotion was one she might fear most.
“I wouldn’t understand?” she nodded “I am sure I would not.” she replied. “But you could try. I am Synin and you be?” She would reach out to take her hand.
“Safety is indeed nothing anyone can give or take from you. It is in here.”as she pointed to her head “It is always about a choice. And I have chosen to see the good in whatever cruelty this life might have for me.” It was true. Even in heartbreak, sorrow, pain, torture, she had maintained a level of grace. It was like her superpower.
“Follow me.” she said – it was up to the girl to take her hand or not. She would move nevertheless
[09:16] Xylara1111: Kitten followed Synin, her steps cautious and deliberate, as though every movement was weighed against the ghosts of her past. The name she’d given—the name others had forced on her—felt heavy on her tongue. Kitten. It wasn’t who she was, not truly. But who she had been felt so far away, so unreachable, that she wasn’t sure it mattered anymore. Once, she had been Xylara Ulinsdottir, daughter of Ulin, a name that carried weight in the frozen north. It had meant something to the people of Axe Fjord, to the land itself. But that life, that identity, felt as distant as the icy peaks she had fled. The woman who bore that name was gone, swallowed by fire and blood the day the raiders came. The day her home fell.
Now, she was Kitten, a name that carried no pride, no legacy—only survival. The scars on her body and the collar at her throat told the story of what she’d endured. Xylara was a name of strength, but it also carried responsibility. And the glacier, with its ancient prison and its stirring
[09:16] Xylara1111: wrath, called to that part of her—a part she wasn’t sure she could
still be. Synin’s calm, hopeful voice broke through her thoughts. She talked about grace, about kindness, about choice, all with a conviction Xylara couldn’t understand. Her words were almost infuriating in their simplicity, their stubborn faith in something Kitten had long since lost. And yet, she followed.
“You talk about safety as if it’s something you can hold onto,” Xylara said, her voice low and edged with bitterness. “Something you choose, like a warm meal or a soft bed.” Her eyes darkened as she continued. “But you don’t know what it’s like to have everything ripped away. To lose your name, your home—everything that made you who you are. When that happens, there’s no time for grace. All that’s left is survival. Kitten, I’m called Kitten” she said at last, her tone cautious but firm. “But don’t mistake my following for trust. And don’t expect me to believe in your kindness. I’ve learned better than that.”
[09:23] Synin (karlotte.shelman) would move to the long hall. The only place in which she was certain there would be warmth. The words were as daggers to her heart. “No I do not know these things.” she replied. “I have not lost my home, my name or anything I ever cared for.” there was some level of sarcasm. “Since all of that is still here.” as she pointed to her head “Dreams of return, the memory of a loving mother. That never left me.” she would start to undress.
“Best get naked here, Kitten. I will have some water so you can clean yourself. I will even warm it so it might ease you down.” she sighed still convinced that she could show a different path. “There is a choice to become bitter. Has it offered you anything ? Did it give you shelter ? Has it returned what you lost ?” she challenged but in good nature.
“Kitten, well met.” she offered warm and truly with the intent to reassure the woman she did not mean wrong. “I know it sounds way easier than it is, but truly. I live by the day and see what happens. If I would have it as a gift I had it wrapped and given to you.” she smiles. She would wait for the girl to undress herself before she would venture further. Hearing the long hall empty for now.
[09:31] Xylara1111 froze at Synin’s words, her hands gripping the edges of her tattered tunic. Her eyes darted to the shadows of the empty hall, as though expecting figures to emerge from them. The command to undress stirred something deep and raw within her, memories of hands that had stripped away more than just her clothing. The bruises scattered across her pale skin and the faint scars etched into her body told their own story, one of torment and captivity. She hesitated, every movement weighed down by the ghosts of her past.
Slowly, she began to remove her tunic, the fabric slipping from her shoulders to reveal the marks left behind by those who had once claimed her. Her arms crossed over her chest, not from the cold but from shame and the instinct to protect herself. She stood rigid, her gaze fixed on the floor. “Men have taken everything from me,” she murmured, her voice low and brittle. “Their kindness always comes with chains.” The words carried the weight of someone who had seen too much and trusted too little.
Despite her wariness, the warmth of the fire and the strange gentleness in Synin’s tone held her in place. Kitten took a small, reluctant step forward, allowing the fire’s heat to thaw the chill in her bones. She glanced at Synin, her expression guarded but faintly curious, as though unsure what to make of this woman who spoke of kindness as though it were a strength. For now, she obeyed, though her trust remained distant, buried beneath the layers of a life stolen from her.
[09:36] Synin (karlotte.shelman) wasn’t stupid and knew that the woman had been traumatized. Yet she would not try to awake it. Not try to lure her to speak on matters that were still raw and rough. “Come let me get you to a spot where most men will not spot you instantly.” She suggested after hearing her of her ordeal. “Their kindness can come with a caress a compliment a tender gesture or a gift.” as her hand would reach to the leather braid she wore upon her head.
“But i know men can break, can take your life if they will lit.” she replied. “But thankfully they have not yet – or failed to do so.” as she would move though the warm long hall taking the kettle that had been above the fire. “Come I will fill a warm bath.” she suggests. “I have some slave gruel too.” she suggests surely there to share.
[09:40] Xylara1111: Kitten sank deeper into the bath, the warmth soothing her bruised and battered body. For a long moment, she said nothing, the silence broken only by the faint crackle of the fire and the soft splash of water. Finally, her voice cut through the quiet, low and hesitant, as though she were testing the air before revealing too much.
“I don’t remember what it feels like to trust someone,” she admitted, her gaze fixed on the surface of the water. Her fingers traced faint patterns in it, distracted but deliberate. “Kindness… it’s always been a trick. A game to lure you in before the knife falls.” She paused, her brow furrowing as if the memory stung. “But you don’t seem like the others.” Her eyes flicked up to Synin briefly, studying her. “Why are you like this? Why do you care?”
The question wasn’t accusing, but genuine—curious in a way that felt foreign to Kitten, as though she couldn’t quite understand what drove Synin to offer help without demand. It made her uneasy, but some part of her wanted
[09:46] Synin (karlotte.shelman) smiled contently when she moved into the bath that now reached a comfortable temperature. She would give her a little cloth and some soap for her to use. A keen eyes on the injuries, but to her judgment nothing lethal and nothing that wouldn’t heal without any attention.
“I have seen it consume people.” she answers truthful. “It ate people alive. They saw danger, darkness and were no longer able to see the light.” she recounts. “Ever since I decided not to go that route I have been rewarded with more than I ever could wish for.” she would take a seat upon the chair and brush her own hair.
“As to why I care ? If I do not care, why would I expect others to do for me? Where I come from … they speak of Karma. I think I believe that to be true.” she nodded even when she spoke these words.
[09:50] Xylara1111 worked slowly, the warmth of the water loosening the tension in her body as she used the cloth and soap Synin had provided. She scrubbed away the grime of her long journey, her bruised and scarred skin gradually emerging clean beneath the suds. Her movements were methodical, almost mechanical, her mind drifting somewhere far away. The heat of the bath soothed her aching muscles, but it couldn’t entirely erase the wariness etched into her very being.
Once she was done, Kitten rose from the tub, the air cool against her damp skin. She reached for the cloth Synin had left for drying, her motions quick but not hurried. She dried herself off silently, avoiding Synin’s gaze as she wrapped the fur around herself, its warmth a small comfort against the chill of the long hall. With the fur draped over her, she moved to a corner of the room, her steps light and quiet, as though she hoped to vanish into the shadows.
Curling onto the fur on the floor, Kitten pulled it tightly around her, hiding herself from
view. Her body tucked into itself defensively, her back pressed to the wall as her eyes darted around the room one last time. Only when she was certain no one else was there did her breathing begin to slow. The fur enveloped her, its softness and warmth lulling her into a sense of fragile security. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Her eyes closed, and exhaustion finally claimed her as she disappeared into sleep, hidden within the folds of the fur like a wary animal retreating to its den.
Crows Murder 
Leave a comment