[html]
 |
WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised. |
Date: Liquid timed, no specific date.
Setting: Bridgetown Port, Barbados.
Time: Early afternoon.
Character Form: Optime. |
ooc: Test-driving Drakien Lusk.:: Word Count→ 505
Long had it been since the ground beneath his feet didn't rock and sway with the waves of the sea. Drakien found he had a hard time getting his 'land legs' back, his body still expecting the earth to pitch and roll whenever the sound of waves reached his ears. He supposed he'd get used to it again, though, considering he had only one more short journey to make by sea before he'd be land-locked for good. And that journey wasn't even by sea; it was only up a canal, really, to the port in some place called New Orleans. Drakien wondered if that place would be as strange and bustling as this one was.
The wolf received many an odd look from the locals, as they seemed mostly to be dogs or dog hybrids. He supposed the looks weren't due to his heritage, though; more so the odd collection of trinkets and nick-knacks he'd collected on his journey to the New World. He supposed they might find it odd to see a wolf, already thickly furred against the cold, wearing a heavy, colorfully dyed fur cloak and fur-lined moccasins. The ram skull adorning his head might have had something to do with it, too.
While passing through most of the major trade cities in Europe, as well as several minor stops along the way, Drakien couldn't help but become more culturally aware. The small group of people throughout most of Northern Europe who donned these skulls had made a big impact on him, particularly one Cai Blom, who'd gifted him the ram he now wore. The symbolism was still lost on him, as they had spoken only a few words of the same language and his grasp on it wasn't the best, but he thought of Cai now as a sort of brother, and the fact that he'd been acknowledged in such a way meant more to him than he could put into words.
Drakien chose to ignore the strange looks his gifts received, instead making his way through the docks into the city proper. He had only two bags with him, carrying all his worldly possessions--a number of which he'd gained only over the last few months, as he journeyed from Moscow to this place. The large male kept a close eye on his belongings, his hands drifting every now and then to check the loose pockets and make sure the flaps remained closed. He wasn't too worried about anyone trying to rob him; everyone seemed to skirt their way around him as he approached, pulling each other out of his way. He could admit to himself that the brightly colored cloak, combined with the ram skull and the moccasins--the only piece of clothing that was his originally--made for a strange sight, but he didn't think he was frightening.
Then again, he mused as a pup too young to shift dashed out of his path with a little yelp, it was nice to have his own space.[/html]
Amy stood next to a trader, listening to him describe the price of the beasts behind him. As horses went, they were alright, but the price asked was far too demanding. Sharply she reminded him of who she was, and what he owed her. The idiot refused to back down though. Furious Amy drew her sword, and neatly sliced off his head. A few merchants shuddered and backed away, but they had been fully aware of the deal that the man had struck with the death merchant. What had happened was no less than what was expected.
She stood and moved over to the horses, ignoring the scuffle behind him as some moved around, cleaning away the dead body. A furious man, believing himself to be justice ran forward with a cry, hand stretched out to claw apart her body. Not even turning Amy whipped her hand backward, a sharp blow against the man's head. Growling slightly she turned. What do you think you're doing? Defiantly the man stared at her. You had no right to kill that merchant. He was a good wolf, with family. Coldly Amy walked up to him. Then he should have thought of that before he agreed to the deal. He tried to betray me, and paid the price.
The lesson was clear. Her name meant little except to those that traded with her, far away from her family's reputation. They wouldn't interfere with her though, as her mark was clear. If they dealt with her, they would play by her rules or die. Amy returned to the horses, looking over those that she would bring back to trade.
[html] ooc: Derp I'm just gonna go ahead and put 'M' in the title lol. Just in case. Word Count → 337
Drakien was heading past the altercation without a second thought, until the weapon was drawn. Then he paused, as many had, and watched as the local was killed. He managed to step back--dragging half the crowd with him as he did so--enough that he wasn't hit with the blood spatter, unlike most of the unfortunates who'd crowded closer to gape at a dead body. Really, it wasn't the kill that fazed him; he'd seen that sort of thing all the time in the sub-sect of Moscow he'd once lived in, and again in the gypsy caravan he'd traveled with for a short time--though with them, it was usually the Romani drawing the knife.
What did annoy him was the male who'd rushed forward to attack the woman, and he twitched slightly even as she managed to retaliate for herself. He was one of those under the impression that women shouldn't be manhandled, even if they could--quite clearly--handle themselves. Drakien wanted to enact some of his own punishment on the dog, as the female's threat meant little to him--he couldn't understand half of what she'd said, and even then the tone and inflections on the words went completely over his head--but he couldn't do much, considering he was in a foreign country far from any law or Code of Honor he was familiar with. Instead he stepped up to the blonde dog, clearing his throat roughly before gesturing with a hand toward the horses.
"I assist you." He was familiar with horses, from traveling with the Romani; it was all they sold, at least publicly. While he didn't see the need for such creatures himself, preferring to eat horses more than ride them, he understood their usefulness and their worth, and he'd learned the skills needed to keep them calm around predators. It was the least he could do, when this place was obviously barbaric and the lady had more than likely made more enemies than friends with her stunt.
[/html]
Amy was surprised as yet another stepped out of the crowd. Believing it to be another challenger Amy's hand fell to her still bloody sword. Tonight she'd have to spend some time cleaning it and making sure it was still sharp. His words were welcoming though, assuring her at least one ally, albeit a strange one. His words betrayed a thick accent, but his offer was welcome. She stepped to the side, allowing him to view the horses.
I was told that horses would be welcome. I'm hoping to pick up some good ones, though I'm told they're not well trained. That was as much as the merchant had told her before giving her some ridiculous price Amy couldn't believe. They weren't horrible horses, just young and needing further work. All of them could carry a saddle, though Amy didn't know whether or not that included having a rider in them.
[html] Word Count :: 420
Drakien's eyes followed the blonde dog's hand to her sword, and he waited for a moment for it to be drawn, or for some word of threat to be said, but there came none. Instead the hand fell away, and she spoke--no doubt of the horses, though he couldn't understand most of what she'd said. He spent another moment working through what little knowledge of the language he did have, and finally managed to gather that she was looking for good horses, though they weren't trained--or weren't fully trained, he wasn't quite sure. He nodded shortly, and then began shedding his layers--first came the bags, set aside against the corral holding the horses. Then came the fur cloak, which he folded neatly and set atop the bags, and finally he lifted the skull carefully off his head, setting it aside atop his other things.
Beneath the heavy cloak and outrageous skull, he was dressed rather simply, in a white button-up shirt and a pair of burlap jeans. He moved forward carefully and swung himself over the short fence, causing most of the horses to back up and snort, tossing their heads. They were all younger than the ones he was used to, and seemed unused to Luperci, but after moving among them for a while and sliding his hands over their sides for a bit, murmuring in Russian--what he said didn't really matter, and he didn't bother to keep track of it himself, though he tried not to do anything so mundane as muttering how beautiful the creatures were. They weren't, really, nothing like the sturdy mountain breeds he'd grown used to, with their large bodies and long, elegant necks. These ones were unlike any he'd seen, and he supposed they were bred here, but their anatomy was the same, so he was soon able to tell which ones would be best for the merchant woman.
Brushing his hands off, He swung himself back out of the corral, and moved to point out the handful of horses that appeared able-bodied enough for a rider. "I am unused to breed." He said quietly, "But few meet standards." He paused in pointing them out individually and turned to look at her out of the corner of his eye. "You need assist tying?" And then frowned, as that didn't sound quite right to him, but he couldn't figure out what was wrong. Then he shrugged, turning to mutter into his shoulder, "YA ponyatʹ eto v konechnom schete."[/html]
Amy's eyes widened slightly in surprise as the stranger stripped off the assortment of things that he was wearing. Underneath he looked surprisingly normal, even rather fit. Her eyes admired his taut form as he stepped into the horses and began to sort through them. He was modest too, wearing clothes. Amy appreciated that, having come from a place where most luperci wore clothing. She watched as he selected the horses, picking out the differences between them and the other horses. The next time she'd be able to choose them on her own with what she saw.
Nodding her appreciation at the selection Amy stepped in to separate them from the rest and rope them up. The male talked some more then, offering help. She paused, glancing over at him. His words were slightly off, and his muttering confirmed that english wasn't his first language. Forgiving him the mistake Amy smiled at him. Help is always welcome. It wasn't often that people willingly bent to her will, and Amy would make the most of this chance. She passed a couple ropes over to him, and indicated towards two of the fiercer horses. Please get those. She walked up to a large, though fairly calm one and tied the rope around it's neck. She lead it out of the pen and secured it just outside before turning to get the next one.
[html] Word Count :: 510
Drakien didn't want to get anything dirty, especially the cloak, as he didn't want to have to wash it repeatedly lest the furs' brilliant colors fade. But the horses were surprisingly clean and well kept, and he felt a sort of grudging respect for these foreigners, whom obviously knew how to take care of the animals. He was almost completely oblivious to Amy watching him, totally focused on his task, and when he was given a set of ropes and gestured toward two of the more aggressive beasts, he paused momentarily only to ask, "In lines, yes?" Before sidling up to the creatures. He'd been admiring the larger of the two as he went about, as it appeared it may have been descended from the breeds he was used to. The thicker neck and sturdier body suggested so, at least, and he treated it as though it were, keeping a wary eye on it as he danced around the other. He managed to trick it into slipping the rope over its own head, and then looped it about to tie around his long nose, creating a make-shift harness that left enough rope for the horse to be tied to the others Amy was busy catching.
He lead the horse out of the corral, and after a quick glance at Amy, tied the horse beside the other one, and then took a moment to use another of her ropes to harness the one already tied, then looping the two together, so that, once they were untied from the pen, they'd be forced to walk side-by-side, the way the gypsies had taught him to tie horses. Drakien took another minute to ready his second rope, and then took to the corral again, and eyed the large beast warily. It took some doing, but after some brief dancing around and a surprising lack of hooves to the chest--though not for lack of trying on the horse's part--Drakien wrestled the rope over its head and onto its neck, then forced the beast's nose down and harnessed it with another small loop in the rope.
The fight left him panting, and as he lead the horse out to where the others were tied up he couldn't help grinning at Amy. "I am in liking with this one." He chuckled, and tied it toward the end of the line, taking a moment to loop the horses into the two-line formation before glancing sideways at the woman. Long black hair fell into his face and he tilted his head curiously, wondering where she might be going with so many horses. He didn't know how to phrase such a question, though, and as he couldn't very well attempt to impose himself on her journey, so he brushed his hands off on his pants and looked about for something else to do.
Now that he'd, in a way, made himself useful, he found it hard to make the decision to go back to anonymity, as nothing more than a strange traveler passing through.[/html]
Amy nodded in agreement as she roped the next horse. She lead it out to join the other two, admiring the makeshift harnesses that he had fashioned. She could not make such a thing, though when it came to knots Amy was quite good. If a knot that was difficult to untie was needed, or even a noose, Amy could easily whip one up. Even the slip knot that she now used on the horses was fairly simple for her. The harness, however, was new. It appeared that this foreign stranger had much that she could learn from. Amy definitely wouldn't let this just slide by.
She roped her next horse, and winced as she watched the struggle with the last horse. Amy had been right to pass that one on to him. It looked like a pain to deal with. She already had the last horse lead out and tied by the time the battle was finished. Amy shook her head in disbelief as he claimed to actually like the horse. It seemed plain madness to her. Well, it didn't matter much. He'd done her a service, and she would repay him. Thank you. Would you care to dine with me? Forgetting the language barrier Amy smiled charmingly, hoping he would accept.
[html] Word Count: 347
The fight with the beast of burden was just the thing Drakien needed to make him feel at home here. He ran a hand along the horse's shivering flank as he was tied up, and looked to Amy with a small smile and a sparkle in his eyes. He was tempted to ask to trade for a horse, but he had nothing with him he was willing to part with, and few merchants he'd come across outside his home town would trade manual labor or servitude for something so valuable. It wouldn't hurt to try, though, once he'd figured out how to properly word the request without offending the woman or saying anything he didn't mean. In the mean time, he was left to process her words, recognizing the expression of gratitude but little else. There was a long moment spent with a blank look on his face, staring at her in complete incomprehension, before a tiny light bulb went off in his head.
Cai had said much the same thing, using that word; "dine", and the actions following had lead to food. Just to make sure, he asked cautiously, "You are meaning we...eat, yes?" He could go for a nice meal, depending on what she had; there was very little that he wouldn't eat, after all he'd been through and all the different animals he'd tried. For a while there had been nothing but fish, and while he wouldn't turn to the sea for a meal when there was something better out there, he knew--now--that it could yield food of its own. Especially that eight-legged critter that had been caught in their nets on the journey over; it had been particularly tasty.
"I would be loving to have meal with you." He nodded, and moved to gather up his things, throwing the cloak over one shoulder and carrying the skull and his bags under either arm. "You will be leading way...?" His voice trailed off uncertainly, as he wasn't sure if there would actually be any traveling involved in hunting down dinner.[/html]
It took a while, but comprehension finally dawned on the stranger's face. Amy had started growing impatient when waiting, so his reply was a relief to her. His words were hesitant, making sure that he'd understood. Running her words through her mind Amy realized that her speech had been much more formal than most would have been used to. Of course it would be difficult for a foreigner to understand. He had grasped it though, earning another smile.
This way. She'd come through here a couple times before and had found a nice place to buy fresh deer. It wasn't a restaurant, not like they had in Europe, but she could purchase meat for them to eat and find a good place for them to eat away from the crowds. It was a small town after all, and only a few minutes of walking would bring them away from the hubbub and further into the areas that still laid abandoned. Weaving her way through the crowd it took a few minutes to reach their destination. Proudly she stepped up. Two of your best haunches, please.
The merchant looked at her in disgust. I won't deal with a murderer. Go buy somewhere else. Shocked by the sharp turn down Amy took a step back. Anger built as comprehension dawned. I've done nothing wrong but fulfill the bargain placed between me and him. Would you turn me down for that? Her words were practically a hiss, no trace of emotion in her voice. The merchant was stubborn though, and turned away with a refusal to acknowledge her.
[html] Word Count: 399
His comprehension earned him a smile, and with an earnest grin of his own, he followed her lead into the hustle and bustle of the market, shouldering his way past the locals as he hadn't needed to with his full "foreigner" regalia on. He managed to keep up with her, though, and when they finally reached a stall with the delectable scent of deer, he watched the exchange, an easy smile on his face which quickly faded into a troubled frown. He didn't quite understand why the merchant refused to trade his goods, but he could guess, and his gaze traveled between the two worriedly.
Before her hissed words could become anything more, he reached out, his hand hovering just short of touching her in order to get her attention. "Is fine, yes? I go back to ship, get food there." He offered, sliding a distasteful look to the merchant as he did so. He wished, for a moment, that he knew all the nasty words in English he knew in Russian, so that he might be able to tell the man exactly what he thought of her; but he didn't, so he held his tongue. It was no good making use of his extensive knowledge of curses and insults if no one would understand them; and besides, if they didn't know what he was calling them, how could they stand up for themselves?
With a little nod and a smile to his companion, he set his things down, trusting her not to run off with them--or, at least, to trade with him for the things she wanted instead of stealing them--as she seemed to be more honorable than most, before he headed off down toward the docks. Luckily enough, the ship he'd come on--its name unknown to him, as he couldn't speak the language, let alone read it--was still anchored, and after a brief exchange which involved more pointing and waving than actual words, Drakien was handed a bushel of fish and sent off with a two-finger salute.
Drakien made his way back with a bright grin, glad to have traded for work he'd done in the past rather than been forced to slave on the deck for a few more hours, and quickly sought out Amy, holding up his bounty with a triumphant look. "Is not the best taste, but good, yes?"[/html]
Amy sensed something near her, and spun around, teeth bared. It was just the foreigner though, allowing her to relax. He was an ally, wouldn't hurt her. At least not yet. His soothing words humiliated her. Amy had wanted to gift him with a meal for his help, but instead he was offering to care for her, give her his food. Amy wanted to turn him down, lash the merchant and take the food that she felt she deserved. This wasn't her world though, and she didn't hold the power she once did. Her honor prevented her from just taking the food, dedicated to honest bargains. Yet this was done to her, plain and simple discrimination!
Glowering slightly Amy lowered herself to the ground as she waited for the man to return. The merchant smirked at her, pleased that the freeze out had worked. It wouldn't have if Amy had been any less honorable than she was, but honesty in situations outside of her games of torture was a fierce policy she clung to, the one virtue that Amy retained after all her years working in the worst situations out there.
He returned with a basket of fish. They were salted for preservation, something Amy could tell at a whiff. It was a shame that it wasn't the fresh meal Amy had wished to grant him, but it was food. Full of regret she reached out her hand, removing a fish and eating it. I'm so sorry about this. She had been placed in this stranger's debt, with no way to break free. Her honor demanded that she didn't take things without a trade, keeping her from the deer meat.
There was a way around that! Amy had been slighted. She could take a meal in compensation for the damage done to her. Smiling now she turned back to the stall where she had been so gravely insulted. Amy grabbed a large haunch, bringing it back to where they sat. The merchant whirled in anger. You can't take that! Coldly Amy met her gaze. Consider it compensation for your actions. Her eyes brooked no argument, and the merchant's gaze dropped. Pleased she dropped the deer on the foreigner's lap. For you. She took another fish and ate it, glad that she could recover from the embarrassment.
[html] Word Count: 348
Drakien smiled reassuringly, and then turned his back and walked away; if anything happened to that merchant, he didn't want to be around to see it, or he might be honor-bound to try and stop it from happening, whether he understood the situation or not. His new....friend had aggravated these people enough, and he felt that anything more may lead to their rightful execution of her person. He rubbed his hands together as he moved, and by the time he'd returned with the bushel of fish she'd found them a place to sit not far off. He folded his legs beneath him and carefully lay the basket between them, selecting a piece of salted fish and begining to pick out the little pinbones carefully.
His companion was not so careful, as she simply dug in, and he grinned at her rather wolfishly, fishing out the last tiny bone and swallowing the fish in one gulp. His next one was not so uncleaned, and he was rather pleased as he searched through and found few bones he could choke on. While he was concerning himself with that, he didn't notice Amy get up and walk over to the merchant, his gaze only catching the movement as she sat down when the haunch was suddenly dropped into his lap. He blinked at it, surprised, and then looked at her before tilting his head and grinning a little, nodding his thanks.
He slid the second piece of fish down his throat, swallowing a couple times to make sure it went down all the way, and then examined the haunch, running a claw over the meat curiously. It was tender, and somewhat warm; still bloody. Actually, just the way he liked it, and he wiggled his ears the way he tended to when especially excited and sliced a piece off carefully, holding it out over the small distance between them and giving her an earnest look. "Is very good; we share." He insisted.
How he could tell the meat was good without tasting a piece, even he wasn't quite sure.[/html]
Amy's tail wagged as he accepted her offering, pronouncing it good. His ears wiggled, a rather amusing sight for the usually serious dog. Her debt had been partially paid by this, but if she could get out of paying the rest she would. While Amy would hunt down and squeeze every single last bit she could from those who owed her, she was much more skimpy on her own debts. Amy very much believed that it was up to the trader to get the best of their deal. Amy would overcharge whenever she could to get the most out of an item, knowing that others often didn't know it's true worth. She was open for having the price changed though, bargaining back and forth until an agreement was reached.
With all the dignity she could muster Amy accepted the slice he gave to her. She would have started eating right away, but chose to wait for him to eat instead. It was only manners after all, and those had been drilled in her again and again. Whatever her faults were, she was not uncivilized. Thank you. Waiting for him to dig in she took another fish. Swallowing it down Amy felt a little thirsty with all the salt, but soon enough that would be quenched by the blood in the meat.
[html] Word Count: 237
Drakien carefully cut a slice for himself, and lifted it in toast to her before taking it into his mouth, chewing delicately. Deer meat this good was best enjoyed slowly, and while he was very grateful to her for getting it for him--taking it, he should say--he couldn't help but wonder why she'd done it. It didn't occur to him that she considered herself indebted to him; he'd done what was right by the Code, helped a woman in need, and if anything, he still needed to work to repay her for what the men of this town had done to her. It was not his home town, though, so perhaps the responsibility shouldn't have fallen on his shoulders; but he'd been the one to step forward, and so it was his duty now.
Cutting another slice for each of them, he proffered it to her, his tail beating the ground lightly. He did that for each bite he took, seeing no reason she shouldn't have an equal share in anything she took from this place, and then, when it was finished, he rubbed his hands together and licked the blood off them, murmuring a small prayer Cai had taught him before smiling at her. It occurred to him that he hadn't gotten her name, and blinked, before smiling sheepishly. "Ah, I am being forgetting introductions, yes? I am Drakien." He held out a hand.[/html]
He ate his slice so slowly, Amy's mouth watering at the sight. Despite her control, Amy rarely practiced it over things that she found pleasure in. As soon as he finished the slice Amy grabbed hers and scarfed it down. The blood sat on her tongue, soothing her thirst for the moment, before she swallowed and it was gone. The meat was delicious, some of the best. Each time the foreigner repeated this, giving her a slice before meticulously drawing out the best of the meat himself. Amy's never lasted as long, though she did slow down long enough for the flavor to soak in. She was right at having come to that stall. It was very, very good. It was too bad the merchant was such an idiot.
At the end of the meal some words were spoken, words that made no sense to her. It was quite and low, in another language. Amy's ears strained forward, struggling for futile understanding. He smiled up at her, catching her by surprise. Blinking Amy listened as he spoke. Of course, introductions. They couldn't forget those. My name is Amy Sunders. It's a pleasure to meet you, Drakien. She shook his hand, feeling how strong his grasp was. He must have worked very hard to be so defined. Amy pushed aside the feeling of want that stirred, concentrating instead on making sure her grip matched his. She didn't do so well, strong but still very much a female, her hands more delicate and crafted than his. The reminder burned her again as she struggled to squish the feelings it stirred. They had just met. He'd only helped her a little, and she'd paid her debt. Besides, she didn't know what he wanted. Until then she couldn't trust him.
That had never stopped her before though. Amy could only hope it would work now.
[html] Word Count: 411
She introduced herself as Amy Sunders, and he bowed his head a bit in deference, believing he'd heard the name somewhere before--perhaps from his caravan...they traded quite regularly in major cities across Europe, and though their trade language was quite rough and difficult to understand even after having spoken it for some years, Sunders was a name that might have been mentioned before. "Pleasure is mine, yes?" He gave a charming smile, and then had to smother another one as she attempted to match his grip. Her own was quite strong, most probably from handling horses herself--or anything else she traded--but Drakien was larger, male, and Russian, the three important facts that most often won him bar fights and wagon-brawls on the road--not to mention the fact that he'd spent most of his adult life wrestling horses and gorgio stow-aways. Her grasp was strong in its own right, though, and he flexed his hand as he took it back, looking at her curiously.
The Romani women he was most used to preferred to be soft and genteel until they stuck a knife in your ribs, and he'd not encountered enough of the females of his homeland to form a heartfelt stereotype that suited them, though he thought they would work around much the same lines. It was odd to meet a femme who was so...assertive. Odd and invigorating. With a little grin, he finished up the last of his haunch and paused to consider her. After another long moment, he rubbed his hands together and asked curiously, "You have...long travel? Perhaps need assistance?"
The truth of the matter was Drakien wasn't happy unless he was traveling with a company of some kind, a caravan, even if that consisted only of a few people. It had been so long since he'd danced among the Romani, his people--his adopted people, admittedly, but still his own kind--that Drakien couldn't help but feel the loneliness of the road getting to him. And he seemed to have found, if not a friend, at least some sort of amiability in Amy; he was more than willing to earn his keep along the way, if she would have him on her journey to wherever it was she went. And Drakien was more than able to keep on his toes; the language barrier wouldn't be a problem, so long as he made no obvious mistakes to anger her.[/html]
Drakien was turning out to be a very pleasant companion indeed, always polite and giving deference to her. Amy was a naturally dominant creature, and soaked in the praise and submission shown to her. Her tail wagged behind her, a grin on her face as she saw him flex his hand. He hadn't been expecting that at all, despite her clear demonstrations of ability. She matched his appraising gaze with one of her own, measuring him, what he could do. She already knew his worth as a horse wrangler, but now she saw that he was defined beyond that, the build of someone used to harsh work. He was still open and friendly, strangely enough, making him seem a good tool to wield.
Her guest devoured the rest of the haunch as Amy politely watched the market around them. Some merchants were giving them dirty looks, still angry at her for killing one of their own. Others were fearful, avoiding eye contact. Soon enough they would all be afraid, and very much under her control. At least, Amy liked to think so. She wouldn't accept less, and had done that before.
Drakien interrupted her musing with a rather startling question. Surprised she stared at him, suspicion in her eyes. Yes, I travel. I don't really stop doing so. Live out of my wagon. Why? What's in it for you? Subtlety was not her strong point. She wanted answers, and she wanted them now. They were strangers. What was the possible benefit of them traveling together. Maybe he just wanted company. Maybe he was planning on killing her and taking off with all her possessions. Amy wouldn't rest until she knew exactly what made him tick.
[html] Word Count: 433
He'd startled her out of some deep thoughts, as she turned to him with surprise and suspicion. He merely raised his brows as she spoke, and then furrowed them, attempting to work through what had been said. She lived...out of her wagon, never really stopped traveling. He nodded thoughtfully, and then held up his hands, hoping to calm her suspicions--he wasn't the kind who would kill her in her sleep, but she seemed suddenly to think he was, so he tried to word his explanation in a way that would convey his own thoughts clearly. "I am..lonely, yes? Romani, with no vardos, no caravan. I have...long travel ahead. No, journey. Long journey," He amended, and then furrowed his brow. "You are...somewhat gypsy? We live out of wagons, trade many things." He ghosted over what, exactly, they traded, as he himself was used to horses and little else, except perhaps fine furs and fine drink. He'd never delved into the slave trade, never stolen babies shortly after birth, as some of his caravan did; he was, as they said, 'clean', though he was alright with such things, and he'd paid the price for the darker trades, anyway.
Back to the point, he continued, somewhat more earnestly, "There is being kinship among Romani. It is always so. I am thinking to myself, you are being gypsy woman, no caravan, and I am also being with no caravan." He paused, hoping to let that sink in and feeling somewhat embarrassed now that he'd made a fool of himself, and then shrugged uncomfortably before moving to gather his things. "I am seeing now that it is not so. Foolish, wishful thinking, yes? No gypsy here." And he huffed out a long breath of air as he hefted his bags onto his back, suddenly closed off. He'd warmed up too quickly, it seemed, as she'd been in need--not really--and he'd come to her aid, and of course that would have made him fast friends back in Russia, back on the roads he was familiar with. It had made him fast friends. But he was somewhere new, somewhere different, and he felt more alone now than ever, realizing that not even the customs here were the same.
"I am leaving you alone now. Bahtalo drom--ah." He caught himself, and then scratched his head, frowning. "Lucky road, yes?" Drakien wanted to beat a hasty retreat, before he made even more of a fool of himself, but manners made him wait a moment to make sure she'd recieved the blessing before he fled.[/html]
So it was a simple wish for company. Amy relaxed, and listened with some curiosity as he explained about the feeling of her being gypsy. Amy had seen a few of them, accepting their trade of slaves and the like. She ran through her head what she knew about them. They traveled in groups, lived out of wagons, were essentially traders. A lot like the way she was now, actually. The main difference was that Amy used those who came her way, while the gypsies had an honest kinship between them. That meant the man's offer was genuine, far more so than any others she'd encountered. If he counted her as kin, she'd never be betrayed by him.
Amy's ears raised as he explained he'd seen her as a gypsy woman without a caravan. It seemed that very little would be needed to become kin to this man, as he was far too shy and apart from other gypsies to live without kin. It was meat to them, the company and friendship of those they traveled with. Amy smiled warmly as Drakien gathered his stuff, embarrassed by his assumption. She grabbed his hand. Yes, lucky road. Together? I would love to have kin. What Amy would really love about this arrangement was the work she would be able to get out of Drakien without any effort, all in the name of being kin. All Amy would have to do was be nice to him, and he would be hers.
|
