~to all AP -the other story will be paused for a while~

Aunt Myrda probably wouldn't be mad.

That's right, Aunt Myrda wouldn't be mad.

Rynere shut her eyes briefly. Yeah, she could think that as much as she wanted.

Aunt Myrda would be furious.

Rynere slowly paced around the tree stump before sitting down, basket at her feet.

She had picked the berries. She had gathered the wild leeks.

She had also climbed some trees, fallen out of the last one, ripped her skirt from the knee down, hurt her knee, received a prominent bump on the side of her head, and was late getting back.

And she'd gotten lost.

Again.

This happened every time. Eventually, someone would be sent to look for her. When she was brought back, Aunt Myrda would give her what for. Again.

But the only reason Aunt Myrda kept sending her out was that the old woman couldn't do it herself. Her tongue and mind were sharp. But she was lame. And nobody else in the village felt the least inclination to help her.

But Rynere -she was an orphan with nowhere else to go, and so Myrda had taken her in.

Rynere would've preferred anything but that.

But the villagers gave her no choice. Nobody else wanted her.

There were soft footsteps behind her, some rustling in the trees. Someone from the village, coming to get her. It was either Tari or Kyndran. Probably Tari. She was pretty light-footed.

She was also Rynere's friend. Her only friend.

Rynere stood, picked up her basket, and turned around.

And jumped.

"Where is that man?" Danid growled, turning his horse towards the left, where he had last seen the missing person. "Can he never stay in one place?"

Karoy shrugged, guiding his steed in the same direction. "It is Tassileriturn, sir. It's not like he's accustomed to doing anything other than what he wants. And what he wants isn't usually ....normal."

"But there's no reason -"

"It's Tassileriturn, sir. There is no rhyme or reason to him. I doubt he ever grew up -"

"He's been alive since before my father's father was born, Karoy."

"That doesn't necessarily mean he grew up. I'm sure he's reached physical maturity, sir, but whether or not he decided to grow up is another matter entirely."

"You have a point."

A man stood there, a half-grin breaking his tan face. His hair was black, cut  jaggedly at the shoulder. He didn't look any more than nineteen or twenty. One of his eyes was green. One was violet.

Rynere dropped the basket. It hit a stone and tipped over, spilling it's contents all over the brown leaves of the forest floor. She didn't care.

"Who are you?"

He cocked an eyebrow, then swept a low bow.

"Tassileriturn Jixi, ma'am."

Rynere was slowly backing off, leaving her basket where it was. The stranger didn't seem to mind.

"And unless someone's unbearably stuffy or naturally annoyed, I'm usually called Tass."

Rynere's foot hit the stump and she fell backwards. She was only scratched, and got up quickly. Tass wasn't making a move.

"One thing, Rynere."

She froze. How did he know her name?

"You're in danger. And you will be until the climax of the story when your true love swoops in and saves the day."

Rynere's eyes widened briefly. She began to bend down to reach a stick that was on the ground.

"Oh dear lady, I have no intention of harming you. I'm just warning you of the terribly cliche story that's about to fall on your head."