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	<title>LongestRoad Sil Backstory3 - Revision history</title>
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		<title>Aurora: New page: It wouldn&#039;t do any good to rehash Sil&#039;s version of our first encounter, so instead I will continue from where she left off ... though I don&#039;t promise that I&#039;ll leave her version as it is. ...</title>
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		<updated>2010-01-29T19:09:38Z</updated>

		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;New page: It wouldn&amp;#039;t do any good to rehash Sil&amp;#039;s version of our first encounter, so instead I will continue from where she left off ... though I don&amp;#039;t promise that I&amp;#039;ll leave her version as it is. ...&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;New page&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;It wouldn&amp;#039;t do any good to rehash Sil&amp;#039;s version of our first encounter, so instead I will continue from where she left off ... though I don&amp;#039;t promise that I&amp;#039;ll leave her version as it is.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We snuck out of town that night. I took a couple of precautions to not leave evidence that we&amp;#039;d survived, drying out the room and our tracks. I led Sil to the meeting point with Margaret and John. Sil doesn&amp;#039;t even remember their names, apparently. I introduced them, and explained the situation. We traveled with them for a couple of days before parting ways. Sil and I agreed to keep each other company on the way to Greenmarsh.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;font color=&amp;quot;#D4A017&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;b&amp;gt;That&amp;#039;s where we met Maggie and John! They have a little kid now. Jack, I think. Weird names.&amp;lt;/b&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/font&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sil and I were alone for a day or two before we made it back to civilization. I don&amp;#039;t really like camping out, but the situation called for it--we had to stay off regular roads and away from wayside inns. Sil seemed to do great out in the wild, and we got to know each other better.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our first in depth conversation was about camping versus creature comforts. And, unlike Sil, I committed our conversations to memory. I guess she just doesn&amp;#039;t have the brains for it. &amp;lt;font color=&amp;quot;#D4A017&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;b&amp;gt;Bite me, pretty boy.&amp;lt;/b&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/font&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&amp;#039;d laid out my bedroll and was settling in for another uncomfortable night&amp;#039;s sleep under the stars. &amp;quot;I will be much happier when we get to Greenmarsh. I miss having a nice, soft bed to sleep in, don&amp;#039;t you?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sil had been staring at the fire. She shrugged. &amp;quot;Not really. I don&amp;#039;t usually sleep in a bed. I guess I think of them more for the old and sick ... to make people comfortable.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Well, they&amp;#039;re for more than that.&amp;quot; I said it with a smirk that she either didn&amp;#039;t catch or ignored deliberately. &amp;quot;Besides, I like being comfortable. Good food, good drink, and good company.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sil turned her attention to me. &amp;quot;Wouldn&amp;#039;t that make the bed a bit messy?&amp;quot; Her little smile implied the joke.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I laughed. &amp;quot;Messy can be fun, too.&amp;quot; She shook her head and turned back to the fire, but the smile stayed on her face. &amp;quot;I was afraid you didn&amp;#039;t know how to joke.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m glad to have put your mind at ease.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The next day led to more discoveries about her character. We walked through the woods along a tributary of the Bingly River. Up until this point, we&amp;#039;d been essentially backtracking Sil&amp;#039;s path into Port Brightside, but now we were headed in a different direction than either of us had been. This time she struck up the conversation.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;How old are you?&amp;quot; Sil asked, out of the blue. I think she&amp;#039;d been meaning to ask it for some time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Eighteen.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That&amp;#039;s ... young for a human, isn&amp;#039;t it?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I got indignant. &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s not young!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You look young, though.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This put me off my guard. I do look young, but I was afraid of anyone guessing the reason for it. &amp;quot;Well, how old are you?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;One hundred and ten.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I stared at her for a bit. &amp;quot;You&amp;#039;re an elf, then?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She looked surprised. &amp;quot;Yes. Well, half.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Right.&amp;quot; I scoffed. &amp;quot;Half-elves are not so pretty and spry at that one hundred and ten.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She rolled her eyes and looked annoyed. &amp;quot;I didn&amp;#039;t say I was half-human.&amp;quot; She picked up the pace and quickly got ahead of me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Okay, sorry!&amp;quot; I had to jog to catch up with her. Monks can be so obnoxious. Some time passed and she didn&amp;#039;t seem like she was going to continue the conversation on her own. &amp;quot;Ok, so... What&amp;#039;s your other &amp;#039;half&amp;#039;?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She stopped and stared at me. &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s not ... obvious?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What is obvious? I haven&amp;#039;t seen any more of you than your face! You keep that silly robe on over everything interesting.&amp;quot; Truthfully, I had already guessed, but it was more entertaining watching her have such a reaction.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She pulled the hood of her robe down, showing the rest of her head and ears. Her blond hair was pulled back into a braid, showing a small pair of rippled horns at the top of her head. Her ears were elf-pointy, but scaled. She also had tiny scales on her hairline and neck. The mottled rays of sunlight coming down through the canopy reflected off her hair and skin. &amp;quot;Better?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I stared at her for a long moment. She was dangerously pretty--I should have known better. I prepared myself, hoping I could keep a straight face. &amp;quot;Well, you&amp;#039;re sort of ... bronze?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The effect was immediate. Her face ran the gamut of shocked, mortified, and furious. &amp;quot;GOLD! I&amp;#039;M GOLD. I&amp;#039;M HALF GOLD DRAGON!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The woods went silent. All wildlife had fled at her roar. I managed to not do the same. She loomed over me. I&amp;#039;m not really sure how because I&amp;#039;m at least half a foot taller than her, but she did. &amp;quot;Ah,&amp;quot; I managed to squeak out. &amp;quot;Yes, gold. Ok. I see it now.&amp;quot; This admission did nothing to mollify her. &amp;quot;Please don&amp;#039;t hit me.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She almost immediately backed off, and I made a note that an angry Sil was to be treated as an alpha to avoid her temper.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;font color=&amp;quot;#D4A017&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;b&amp;gt;That was a JOKE? You&amp;#039;re such an ass!&amp;lt;/b&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/font&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When we hit Greenmarsh Lake, we stopped to camp for the night, right at the edge of the water. Sometime during the night I woke up, and Sil was bathing. She probably didn&amp;#039;t think I could see her, since the moon was at just a sliver, but I could, and I watched her. I have it ingrained in my memory. If I could convince her to do it again now I would hire the world&amp;#039;s greatest painter and have it committed to canvas, framed in gold and platinum and hung over the mantle in my bedroom. She &amp;lt;font color=&amp;quot;#D4A017&amp;quot; style=&amp;quot;BACKGROUND-COLOR:#D4A017&amp;quot;&amp;gt;... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... &amp;lt;/font&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;font color=&amp;quot;#D4A017&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;b&amp;gt;I&amp;#039;m sure no one really wants to read about that. Also, you&amp;#039;re a pervert. &amp;lt;/b&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/font&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
----&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Damn-it! You can&amp;#039;t just edit out entire sections like that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;font color=&amp;quot;#D4A017&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;b&amp;gt;You&amp;#039;re the one who gave me the crayon. It works great!&amp;lt;/b&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/font&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There was a point to this part of the story.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;font color=&amp;quot;#D4A017&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;b&amp;gt;And now you can tell it. This is a memoir, not a romance novel.&amp;lt;/b&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/font&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Can&amp;#039;t it be both?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For posterity, it should be noted that I now have a sizable bruise on my shoulder. Sil lets violence answer when she can&amp;#039;t think of the right&lt;br /&gt;
words.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;font color=&amp;quot;#D4A017&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;b&amp;gt;You&amp;#039;re a big baby. Get on with this&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;story.&amp;quot;&amp;lt;/b&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/font&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
----&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I didn&amp;#039;t look away until she got out of the water and closer to the firelight. She was very well muscled, and I didn&amp;#039;t want to anger her again. She sat near the edge of the camp and started working on brushing her hair.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Her hair used to be very long--down to her thighs, I think. She had been keeping it in a braid, but she&amp;#039;d washed it in the river and was working on getting the tangles out of it. I could hear her getting more and more frustrated at it, and she finally snapped, throwing her brush aside with a loud grunt.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I propped myself up on my bedroll. &amp;quot;What&amp;#039;s the matter?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;font color=&amp;quot;#D4A017&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;b&amp;gt;Don&amp;#039;t make me edit out more of this.&amp;lt;/b&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/font&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
... Long story short, I helped her brush her hair while she was half-naked, touched her tenderly, shyly tried to kiss her, and basically attempted the innocent-boy-in-love seduction technique. I failed. &amp;lt;font color=&amp;quot;#D4A017&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;b&amp;gt;Utterly.&amp;lt;/b&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/font&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Once again, I couldn&amp;#039;t tell if she was oblivious or pretending to be so to spare my feelings. It was very ... frustrating. &amp;lt;font color=&amp;quot;#D4A017&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;b&amp;gt;There&amp;#039;s something dirty about those ellipses.&amp;lt;/b&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/font&amp;gt; However, I had accomplished the goal I&amp;#039;d set out for myself upon leaving Port Brightside--I&amp;#039;d seen her out of her robe.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Also, there was a great revelation of one of the things that annoyed Sil about being a half dragon. Her hair is thick and wiry. It eats brushes and it&amp;#039;s a pain to untangle. I had to use a cantrip. Years later she ruined a set of jeweler&amp;#039;s snips cutting it. She was always jealous of all the full-blooded elves she grew up with, and their lovely elven hair. I think her hair is fantastic, though, and I like it better short. I use fewer cantrips now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
[[LongestRoad Sil]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Aurora</name></author>
	</entry>
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