It is only a few paces from the edge of the wilderness to the lake; trees crowd close to the water in every direction. The water at your feet is pristine, shining blue. Gentle ripples ruffle the glossy surface of the water and whisper at the shore. The hump of Katahdin Peak, blue-grey with distance, looms over the trees as they ring the lake. The air smells clean, rich with pine and fish. In the distance you can make out a dock, and other signs of human habitation; but here, only the calls of birds, frogs, and insects disturb the peaceful quiet.
An airship bobs over the lake at the end of long, fine tethers that are fastened here and there around the eastern portion of the lakeshore. An array of ropes and winches dangles from amidships, ending at a small, floating platform with couple of small, neat dinghies moored to it. Occasional sounds emit from the airship: spinning propellers, jets of steam, and voices.
Did someone call for 'tall, dark, and handsome'? Well, dark's fairly well covered, at least. Jet-black hair's pulled into a long, loose tail at the nape of his neck, a few stray strands about the face occasionally drifting into his almost equally dark eyes, the irises of which are a brown deep enough that one needs to look closely to find the pupil. Nut-brown skin that sets off the white of his teeth and eyes -- it could just barely be mistaken for a very deep tan, if one really tried. Tall is a miss; he's still several inches off six feet, and he probably won't ever get there. Handsome... well, not a classic beauty, to be sure, but well-proportioned, with a stunning, frequent grin and deeply expressive features. Slim, but in perfectly good shape.
He's clad in... well, black leather pants. Somewhat faded, well broken in, but nicely cut and really =quite= nicely fitted. A simple cream shirt hangs untucked above them, long sleeved and fastened with a row of small, black stone buttons. Over that, he wears a decidedly well-worn old black trenchcoat, almost too big for him -- the cuffs hang down half-over his hands, when he lets them, and the hem hangs perilously close to his heels. Scuffed black leather boots with worn soles adorn his feet; there's a seemingly random collection of bracelets, all on one wrist, and several piercings along the upper section of each ear -- little silver hoops. His right ear also bears a rather delicate silver earcuff.
Slim and delicate at her modest 5'5", Rahne has an almost childish quality to her form and features. Carefully trimmed mid-shoulder-length reddish-blonde hair hangs in loose, bouncing curls about an impish face that hovers between youth and maturity. High cheekbones offset wide oval eyes of bright emerald green and a frequent smile that adds to the rebellious look of her deeply tanned face.
Slender, well-muscled arms and legs give a faint air of the fey to her physique. Cut closely to her torso is a dark green pullover, the hem brushing her hips. Below that is an equally close-cut pair of dark brown leggings and still-bare, lightly dirt-browned feet. If she has any plans to keep her feet covered, it doesn't look like it'll be anytime soon!
Her slenderness almost seems off-balance with the large, broad knife she carries. A length of cord, dark green in color, is wound about her waist three times to secure the blade's worn, tooled leather sheath to her body on the left side. A smaller bit of cord pins the bottom of the sheath to her left thigh. The leather bears the fading intricacies of celtic knotwork, a composition of light and dark growing dimmer with age.
Around her neck, a thin gold chain dangles a small, heart-shaped pendant delicately between her collarbones.
It's a nice morning... cool, a touch breezy, and the lake has light ripples and waves -- and a few not so light, where someone's swimming through the water.
The ripples are echoed in a fashion by the trees surrounding the lake as the wind moves through them. It trips through the leaves and lifts Rahne's hair as she walks towards the lake, only half-aware of where her feet are taking her. Her eyes are more on a bundle of sticks, twine, and other objects in her hands. The path she picks out isn't often tread, but she manages to not misplace her steps. THe sound of water intrudes faintly on her preoccupation and she glances up, blinking a bit owlishly.
The splashes are regular, like someone swimming laps, almost, and then stop completely, a long pause before another, bigger splash. Clothes are piled haphazardly in a heap on the shore -- the mass seems mostly composed of well-worn black leather.
Cocking her head to one side, Rahne rubs the base of her hand against her eyes and shakes her head. "Wandering feet, wandering mind, path ever true, destination unknown." she murmurs, cradling her erstwhile fumblings in her free hand and looking out across the water for the source of the splashing. A smile turns up one side of her mouth as she notes the clothing in that look, letting her feet carry up to the lake's edge.
When Rahne reaches the lakeside, the splashing has paused again... but a pair of tawny legs seem to have sprouted from the water's surface, toes pointed to the sky. After a few more moments, they disappear, replaced by Ren from just above the waist up, grin brilliant and arms raised in a 'ta-da!' sort of pose, despite the lack of audience. Well, he does have one now, but he doesn't seem to have noticed yet.
Gingerly setting down her handful of things, Rahne straightens and offers applause to the show, grinning from ear to ear. "Fabulous! Bravo! Encore!" she calls enthusiastically to Ren.
Serendipity blinks once, and then laughs, bowing to Rahne so deeply that his head disappears underwater again before he comes up beaming. "Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all week -- try th' veal!" he calls cheerfully, and wades a bit closer toward the woman on the shore. "C'mon in, foxy, th' water's fine..."
Rahne sets her hands on her hips and regards the watersprite that is Ren amusedly, "Oh, I'm sure it is, with you in it. Give me two shakes, luv." It doesn't take her too long to leave her own clothing on the bank and plunge into the water, not being one to tippytoe into it.
Serendipity swims up to meet her, grabbing her around the waist to give her a resounding kiss and pull her in deeper into the water. "Hi there. Haven't caught =you= 'round here in a while..."
Rahne brushes a soaked curl out of her eyes and returns the kiss with warm enthusiasm. "Went wandering for a bit....but I wandered back. The feet may be of their own mind, but they know home when they've walked its trails." she muses, her own arms circling his neck loosely. "Besides....like I could leave you alone for too long? Really?"
"Sweet talker," Ren accuses with a complete lack of rancor, and kisses Rahne on the nose. "Been anywhere interestin', then? I was away a while, too. Place musta been dead without us." He grins again.
Rahne laughs and raises an eyebrow, "Must've put the whole place in hibernation if you went off somewhere. Me? Went up north for a while, see if there were new tales about, legends I might not've heard since I've been here. Nowhere was enough to keep me there, though...felt like sometimes it was too long to be gone for the time I was." Shrugging, she shakes her head a little, sending droplets flying across the surface of the water. "What about you? See new sights yourself?"
"Midget wrestler acrobats," Ren replies solemnly, "...and this little version of the airship thing, kinda." The grin returns, "...well, a'ight, they weren't technically wrestlers, but they were up for it. Nothing new on where the 'wisha went, though. Spent some time down at Martin's poor farm in Millinockett. You been down there yet?"
Rahne shakes her head, looking curious at the mention, "Not yet, no...mayhap I might wander up there a day, sometime. How's he been doing, Martin?"
[...and that, alas, was that.]