Eating sea biscuits and drinking red rum

[Caspa Al-Fateh]

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The smell wasn't really bothering Caspa. She had been taught to cure leather and the scent of the completed articles was rather sweet by comparison to the messier parts of the process. Denver was certainly unimpressed by it though, and he seemed to have to consider for a second when she told him her rank as if the word was unfamiliar. He was as fresh as she was, as chance would have it. He seemed affronted by the idea he might have something to do with the stable work, so now she was really curious to know what he was doing here, but of course, he was probably just poking his nose around like her. Funny their paths should cross, being so similar. "I wouldn't know," was all she could say, "This horse scene is new to me. I assumed you were a local, is all." She shrugged to deflect any further offence on his part, and looked aside for a moment, attention caught by a shiny spur thing which - oh, it must be for digging into the horse's side, considering it was attached to the foot support. Not nice. You ride or somethin'? "I like walking," she answered simply and gave him a searching look. "What brings you here to this pack, Seigneur Denver? Obviously not the equestrian lifestyle, I mean..." It was always hard to make out the humour in her eyes, which were so deep-set and hooded by thick lids, but the spark was there regardless.

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