loch lemach gives zero fucks (cutandthrust) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-07-09 03:40:00 |
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Collecting herbs was a task better carried out under the veil of Vanish, out of sight of prowling animals and other interruptions. It was not the necessary measure it had once been, to stay unnoticed by monsters who could rip her in half―there was a perk or two to her new friend. Still better not to have to unleash the late Sage’s pet on the Outlands; she’d have no use for herbs and fungi flattened to the ground like sheets of paper. She needed her ingredients intact, if she was going to stay in business. Her supply had been practically obliterated along with her office; what little she had been able to salvage had already been put to use for the completion of outstanding commissions. This area was familiar, however, and the purse she had brought along for the task was filling up quickly. But her concentration did not drown out her surroundings; she kept her ears trained on the sounds of the woods around her, alert to any irregularities, anything that could spell danger. The ground was damp after the previous night's rainstorm, but she had sharp hearing. She had just tucked a bright red mushroom inside her pouch when a rustling nearby made her tense. Invisible, she carefully stepped toward the source of the noise, to ascertain the threat, expecting to see a rabbit, or some other small animal in the underbrush. Instead she saw a hume man, bent on the same task she had been carrying out just moments before. It did not take her long to realise, as she watched, that he was no amateur; he was picking out the herbs he needed with practiced ease. Unlike Loch's toxic spoils, his choices were plants commonly used for healing purposes and poultices. Curiosity piqued, she shed the Vanish veil and said, "Morning. Could I interest you in a rare delicacy?" She produced a mushroom with a bright orange-red cap and held it out to him with a smile. The woman moved quietly—so quietly that he had only the slightest hint of rustle to warn him of the presence of someone or something else in the clearing. Impressive, really, that when the blonde appeared out of thin air he didn’t go for his weapon, but her smile was not, to his eyes, threatening at all. And in any case, her face pretty much assured that it would take him a moment or two to regain his composure. “I…” That was about when he spotted the mushroom on its skinny stalk that she was so innocently (to his mind) holding out to him. His brows knit together, the concern for her safety overriding his usual tendency to be tongue-tied as he finished, “I… think if you’re hunting mushrooms I saw some orange-caps back there. That one—I don’t think you should eat that one.” Loch nodded. She had expected him to recognise the danger, considering the care with which he was selecting the herbs he wanted. "I ain't about to eat it," she smirked, and placed the mushroom back inside her bag. "But thanks for the advice." Where he had looked completely relaxed before, he seemed slightly tense now that she was there, yet when she approached he still made no move to reach for a weapon. The other possible reason was obvious and highly amusing; to confirm it, she dropped her voice and said, "First time I've seen someone else around here picking herbs. You came on your own? Not scared of the monsters in the Outlands?" “But why—” he started before shutting his mouth with an almost audible snap, because if a pretty woman wanted to wonder invisible around the woods and collect poisonous mushrooms, as long as she didn’t intend to eat them, was it really any business of his? Right, no, definitely not. And if anything, he thought she ought to be the one worried about monsters—sure, she was armed, but… “Uh… no, ma’am,” he responded, scratching the back of his head as she walked closer, trying not to look as out of his depth as he felt. “Not afraid of Outlands monsters. I spend a lot of time out here.” Loch raised an eyebrow at the address, amused. She did not bother being discreet about looking him over as she said, "You got the build of a fighter. A Ranger with a hobby, maybe?" She nodded at the herbs on the ground near him. He felt like… well, a little like a prize chocobo might feel, he imagined, being looked over like that. He shifted his weight, clearly discomfited by the frank appraisal. His eyes shot briefly to the chosen plants which he had not yet tucked into the pouch at his waist, but kneeling to collect them just now would be uncomfortable. “Everyone needs a potion sometimes, right?” he asked by way of answering the question. “It’s the season to stock up.” "Sure," she agreed. "Didn't think fighters cared much for making their own, or that they knew how." “It depends on the fighter, I guess,” he said after a moment. “Maybe not in the city?” And she definitely looked like city, even if she stood with obvious comfort in the clearing—comfort which was only slightly compromised by a rustle from the nearby undergrowth. “And speaking of the city,” he said, trying to work out just how big whatever had made the sound had been (possibly very, considering the height from which it had come), “maybe you’d like an escort back there?” "Very chivalrous of you." She, too, strained her hearing for subsequent noises, trying to establish the threat. Her hands were on the concealed hilts of Fat Lord and Little Bitch but, unable to determine what was lurking in the bushes, she nodded at the fighter. "If you're done here, I'll take that offer." (A meatshield could only be a good thing, and if it went south, she could always Vanish and go.) He was already kneeling to gather the last of his selections and tuck them away. He might have stayed, had he been alone—he’d meant it when he’d said he wasn’t afraid of the wildlife—but with a lady present, he wasn’t about to get himself involved in unnecessary combat. Since he’d offered to escort her (and how could he possibly have done any less?), it was now time to go. “Sure, I’m done,” he confirmed. The flora would still be here, waiting for him to return another time. He rose to his feet just as another rustle came, closer this time. “Time to go.” To his surprise, she kept up with him as he took off at a light jog, confidently aimed in the direction of the nearest city gate. |