☀ E x a l t e d ☪

Halsin had noticed the way her gaze lingered.

He did not call attention to it. In the wilds, a body was simply a body. Be it scarred, weathered, strong or tired. Modesty was a kindness when it was wanted, and Nabooru taught him to provide it at no cost. He always presumed that his ease was not shared as easily.

So when she turned away, he had a thought to do the same.

The last of his garments were set upon a smooth stone beside the stream, folded with the same practical care he seemed to give most things. With careful steps and noisy water-wading, Halsin moved until he made sure Nabooru felt his broad, warm back press against her own in a show of respect.

Even from contact alone, he made her feel the raw strength that has carried him for decades. A tender touch that had his spine softly tickling her back while the pressure of his weight was a comforting sensation that protected the vulnerable side that she could not turn to see.

The clearing had gone quiet around them, save for the water that splashed against their bodies as hands would make it. Golden light touched the surface in broken strands, wavering against their skin as Halsin and Nabooru cleaned themselves near each other.

Close enough for conversation.

Even closer when it came to intimate contact.

At her question, his brow rose faintly. Then, he gave a low, warm chuckle.

"No, Nabooru, I am not a drow."

He had a thought to turn his head and continue the conversation until the reminder of her modesty made him stop his head in its tracks.

"I am what is called a wood elf in these lands. Pointy ears and a penchant for never sleeping is our trade. High elves, wood elves, sea elves, drow and half-elves. There are many branches from the same ancient tree."

Halsin dipped his hands beneath the surface and brought water up his forearms, almost splashing against Nabooru's shoulders as he rubbed away the dirt and dried blood that clung to his skin. His movements were slow and unhurried -- more mindful than careless.

"The drow are elves as well, though they have long dwelled beneath the earth in the Underdark. Some are cruel. Some are not. Many surface folk fear them, and not without reason, but fear has a poor habit of making simple monsters out of complicated people."

As he moved, his back lightly pressed. At times it would leave her, creating a void of warmth until the pressured weight of his frame returned to meet Nabooru's skin. It was not something he did to tease her, but a byproduct of this little washing ritual that he had started. Small, insignificant motions snowballed into comforting moments, it seemed.

"-And you said Hylians are the ones with pointed ears in your homeland?" He asked, interest warming his tone. "I've not come across that name before, but it seems to be like something I'd love to explore in the New World, beyond the seas we know." To the archdruid, Nabooru's exquisite origins could only ever be explained as a new, undiscovered race from beyond the scope of current knowledge. It made him excited to wonder about many other discoveries that had yet to show themselves for him. "I imagine there are many things here that must feel strange. Goblins, Drow. Druids. Tieflings. Gods with too many names and not enough mercy." He spoke with a twinge of humor. "-And one large elf leading you into the woods to bathe in a stream." Halsin smiled. Not that she could even see it, of course. "You are handling it better than many would." There was no indulgent flattery in it. Halsin did not offer the words as flimsy decoration, nor as comfort merely for comfort's sake. He spoke them with the certainty and confidence of an elf who had observed her closely and found his conclusion sound as a scholar's.

Though she heard the splashes of water indicating Halsin's approach, felt the disruption of the calm surface at her thighs, she still nearly jumped out of her skin when his back met hers. Instinct halted manic scrubbing, her muscles tightening in a combination of her nerves still teetering on the edge, leading to a fight response in the twitch of her fingers toward blades she did not wear, and surprise by the contact. In a second instant, she calmed herself when no threat from the druid presented itself. Found ease again in the natural warmth of his skin, his weight pressed just slightly against her.

Though, in some ways, it was almost overwhelming, that touch, no matter how benign and lacking in intimacy, and her heart pumped erratically against her ribcage. The urge to either melt into it or escape struck her like a bolt of lighting. Neither reaction manifested. Instead, she exhaled a breath and focused once more on cleaning her body and, when he spoke, his explanation of those called elves in this place. The rhythm of his muscled back dipping away from hers and his weight returning.

" It seems really unfair that you don't have to sleep. Though I can't say I sleep much or well, I still can't get away with none. " Satisfied with the cleanliness of her arms and the tops of her legs and hips, she scooped water into her hands and began scrubbing at her chest and abdomen. " But I could certainly use those extra hours in a day. Though that does confirm that the Hylians are not elves, I think, despite their pointed ears. They do need to sleep. "

The description of the drow struck her as intimately familiar, as the Gerudo suffered similar dehumanization in her homeland despite the complexity of the situation those who feared them had a hand in placing them in. She did not know the details of why the drow were treated as monsters, but she did not doubt Halsin's assessment. Not when her own experience suggested it could absolutely be true.

" Hm, trust me: I know quite a bit out being seen as a monster, " she murmured. Bending forward at the waist, she lowered her grimy hair into the stream's clear water. Crimson flowered outward from her crown, and she worked her fingers against her scalp before running them through her long tresses. "My people aren't exactly well-liked back home, but it is, in short, because of fear. Fear that blinds them to the complexity of our situation. Of who we are and how we want nothing more than to live our lives. "

Despite her words, she did manage a chuckle as she returned to her full height, a pleased sigh passing her lips now that both hair and body were cleansed of muck and filth. " Though, Hyrule is a beautiful land, even if the people aren't always so amicable. If you ever find yourself there, I'd be happy to show you around. "

Clutching her hair in her hands, she began to wring it out as she waded toward shallower water in order to begin air drying. She stopped when the water only reached her ankles, the smile on her her lips reflected in her tone when she spoke again.

" You learn a lot about keeping a cool head when you lead people, I've found. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel at all overwhelmed by it all, but I can learn. " She dropped her gaze to her feet, and, as if it knew how she considered it, fed off the fear taking root concerning it, the parasite in her head squirmed and bulged. She sucked in a sharp breath, her grip on her hair tightening.

" I'm worried about a lot, honestly. My people back home, and how all I want is to get back to them, even though I haven't the slightest idea of where I even am. I'm concerned about those refugees and the other druids and anyone else around here this cult might threaten. " She tapped her index finger against her temple and hazarded a glance over her shoulder.

" And that's not mentioning this thing in my head that might make me one of them, it seems. Another mindless puppet to some god I've never heard of when I barely like my own people's gods. " She huffed a short laugh; that would be her luck, wouldn't it? To lose her free will again? Her voice softened, but bitter certainty tinged every syllable.

" I can't let that happen. I won't. "

"Most intoxicating it is," the skeleton nodded. "All the more reason to resist that initial temptation."

The mention of Moonrise Towers enwrapped her heart the ever-encroaching dread that plagued her since Halsin mentioned that it likely served as the heart of the Absolute cult and the source of the tadpoles that wriggled in her head. Not for fear of facing off with powerful foes, of dealing with zealots willing to do anything in the name of the god.

No. Her conviction wavered in the face of uncertainty. Not that they might not find a cure, but in that it might not matter if they find one there. If this was where the power of the Absolute lay, would entering her house overpower their dream guardians' protection? Once the crossed that threshold, would that protection wane and enthrall them like the rest? Turn them into full-fledged mindflayers?

She didn't want to focus on that now. Couldn't. If she wanted a cure and to stop this cult, she could not lose her nerve. She had to risk losing her free will again to ensure she keeps it.

" Maybe not. If we can stop all of this here, I suppose we'll save those fools from such a fate, too. " A pause. " Why does ceremorphosis strip a victim of its soul, though? Mindflayers are living things, and as far as I've found out, they're not undead, so why do they not maintain their souls? What does it matter if they don't? Omeluum seems perfectly fine, at least. "