ancientnames

ᚢᚦ// Sheet, my bad. I thought I replied ages ago, I'll get on this ASAP ;3;
          	  
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ᝰ @AcidicFaith 
          	  
          	  "Eh, bravery or stupidity—- either or," he replied and with a wink and click of his forked tongue, he turned on a heel and started towards a large tree. He slipped off his brightly colored coat and folded it with the upmost care, draping it over one of the branches. It would seem he was willing to risk life or limb but not the coat. "It has fangs too then," he said as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, further revealing the myriad of tattoos that graced his lavender skin. And the scars. Thin slivers of scar tissue covering the areas not already graced with ink. Around his arms, his chest, neck... Despite the dire situation they had just walked into, he smiled cheerfully and clapped his hands together, nodding to the Dragonborn.  "Sounds like such a lovely creature! I can hardly wait to meet it." 
          	  
          	  He assisted where he could. Or at least, he tried to. The ease at which Arðinn worked the timber into shape was one he could not replicate. It was quickly evident that he was more a hinderance than help, so he stood back and surveyed the area instead. Which trees were sturdy enough and had branches low enough to climb. Rocks and roots and anything that might cause one's footing to stumble. He found a small clearing, one that left too little cover and was wide enough for a beast to charge through at him. He ran his fingers of the hilt of one of his scimitars, humming softly under his breath and looking every bit like he was preparing for a show. A performance under the dancing lights of the grand tent, a boisterous crowd surrounding him. Not a life or death fight with a deadly beast. "Right then," he said as the trap was planted, flashing his new acquaintance a rather cheery grin. "Shall we begin?" 

The dragonborn listened to the other's suggestion. He gave a firm nod. "Your bravery... It is admirable." He looked around, trying to spot any of the surrounding brush he could use. "Ja, I'll make some of those stakes. Serpent let it, the beast will run into them. Just watch for its... long teeth." He said, still trying to find the correct word, but it seemed to alude him just the same.
          	  
          	  He began to creep closer to a nearby dead tree, inspecting if it would fit their purpose as a trap before pulling his axe from his belt. "As long as you stay out of its face, you will be good. If all else fails, go for the legs. If it cannot charge, it cannot kill." With a few measured strikes, the wood came loose and he worked the material quickly to form the sharp implimemts they needed. It seemed this was a familiar set of motions for him, how quickly he could work the timber into what they needed. As he he continued his sharpening, something caught his attention. He stopped mid stroke and stared out into the wilderness. A long moment of quiet passed before he hesitantly continued his work, sharpening a few more of the thicker branches before carrying the stack to a clearing wide enough to plant their trap.