<3 WC: 406
Sage took his vague compliment, but elaborated no more. She was not so dense not to realize when someone was not interested in what she was saying. And it didn't matter; she didn't want to talk about leather-working anyways.
The smile remained on her face as the stranger repeated her name, dragging out her surname with interest. He must know, she thought, unsurprised. "Mhm," she mumbled softly in affirmation. The Lykoi name stretched farther each day. Anathema was close, sure, but Sage didn't know the names of it's occupants, save for two or three. Should she be impressed, or worried? For now, she would keep a little of each.
"Charmed to meet you," he said. His voice was smooth and pleasant, and Sage would surely not deny the chance to hear more of it. A curious brow rose as he took her small hand in his own, bowing as he brought it to his lips with gentle contact. "Oh my, how very charming you are, indeed," she cooed in dreamy tones, smile creeping widely across her face.
Small fingers reached up to brush chocolate locks carefully away from her face, sun-colored eyes finding his captivating jade ones. The hippie girl took the last puff of the joint she'd been working on.
I am Sirius Revlis," he introduced finally, "Will you join me for a meal, Miss Sage?" Sage paused for a moment, considering it. Her stomach gave a grumble, clearly trying to persuade her, and she conceded. "Alright, then," she said cheerily, "That's very kind of you."
His question had been innocent, by her assessment, and Sage saw no reason to deny him. Still, she knew she should not be so trusting. He didn't seem to carry any weapons, though, and she did have a horse. With a glance to Lennon, she called him over to her. The horse obeyed instantly, though his movements were quite lazy.
'"Where shall we sit?" she wondered, glancing around for an appropriate resting place. It was not ideal to Sage to eat standing up. With Lennon following nicely behind her, Sage passed Sirius, floating off towards a small clearing several yards away. It seemed as though it had been created for this purpose; a felled, in tact log resting outside of what looked like the perfect spot for a bonfire. She wondered briefly if he might want to cook the meat, but did not mention it.
"This spot is nice, over here," she called out, waving a hand for him to join her there.
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