Scions of the Seven Fuck-ups

Piñara adores The Shroud.

It’s so lush and green, everything she never had in the harsh and unforgiving sands of Thanalan.
The rain here is different. It’s cold to the touch and can send a shiver right down to her bones, falling for days on end where the Deserts saw a touch of the stuff only once or twice a moon.
It’s glorious.

She takes moments on her journey to the capital to simply step outside her lodgings and stands in the foggy grass in the early hours of the morning before even the Chocobo Drivers are up to do their morning rounds. Dawn is the best time to gather up night-shy peonies and Windlights, she’s learnt.
The cart journeys are long and make her little frame ache after a couple of hours, but without the training or skill to make it through the wilds herself, she will simply have to bear it.

Piña supposes that she could have hired a caravan of her own, but if she was going to be an adventurer, luxury was something she’d learn to pull out only in the small moments. A large fanfare to greet an Ul’dahn Merchant princess was not what she was after at all! So she walks in through the great wooden gates of Gridania on her own two feet, wrapped in hempen work clothing, and sets about making herself known.

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Connor has been in Gridania for 3 years, and has every intention of being here for many more. It agrees with him. He likes it just fine. Conjury is a skill born from hours of meditation, malms of walking the forest paths, and sussing out those little whispers of things half-heard and partially meant from the living world around him. Gridania does not lack for living things.

He's lucky to have his talents for the quiet art of meditation, because without them the young Lallafellin man would probably be out of time in the Stillglade Fane. He's not Gridanian by birth and so there's no telling when the forest will decide to send him out and away just because it feels like uprooting an invasive species. He's not charming, but he's useful, so he likes the arrangement just fine.

And top of his list of useful things to do today? Reach the Archer's Guild and present himself as an attendant for the week. Healing isn't nearly as important to the new trainees as having a conjurer's presence to guide them along new patrol routes until they grow more accustomed to wandering the forest on their own.

He sat in for an hour of pre-dawn meditation, and then went and had his morning bread and water. Now he just has to get past the crowds at the aytherite and reach the guild, and there's only one way for any esteemed conjurer to do this: a full. flat out. sprint.

"Move- move, yes- move! Move. Excus- move. Ugh-" And a quick hop- kick and he's up over an unexpected cart, white robes flashing in the early light, and then he just keeps running.

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Piñara has just attuned to the large Aetherite in the middle of Gridania's plaza and is hopping down the stairs to wander down the narrow path to the Archer's guild.

There's a blur of white behind her that seems to be in a bit of a hurry. It's coming towards her. Several thoughts go through her mind.

- Hahah wouldn't it be really funny if you tripped him up like you do to your siblings?
- No, don't do that, you're trying to make a good impression here
- Just leave it
- Stick your leggy out real far

In the end, none of the internal debating matters, because her body is already moving to kick out the legs of this poor, poor man.

There's a thunk of a kick to a shin, and then... another thunk? Just ahead of where the man now lies on the floor a small boulder landed. It looks like there was a tiny land slide.

"Huh." Is the eloquent response.

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Monx Kha was happy in Ul'dah. It was such a large change from her home. The bustling commerce, the interaction with people, the lack of fighting every moment. She liked the movement of the city and the sense of closeness with others. More than anything? She enjoyed the heat of Thanalan. She enjoyed watching sand devils form and swirl around in a panicked dance and then disappearing into nothing. It was such a big change from her home on the Azim Steppe.

Her new form was quite the change as well. She had always been short, but she'd never thought she'd feel like a child again. She had found a rare fantasia of myth on the ship that was smuggling her to Eorzea, and she may have taken it as her own. The last thing she wanted was someone from home following her over and dragging her back. The change in form was also good, considering she just stole something that was easily worth the lives of others. After arriving in Eorzea she drank the potion and became one of the Ul'dahn locals - a Dunesfolk Lalafell. She was quite pleased with the transformation: her Au Ra eyes had been overwhelmed with the brightness sun reflecting off of the sand, and these Lalafellin eyes seemed to be much more adjusted to the brightness of Thanalan. If only the world was built to a more Lalafellin scale.

What wasn't as big a change, however, was the gladiator's guild. All of her training on the Azim Steppe, especially that with her Gesi father, had physically prepared her for the challenge. The issue is she found herself bored. She preferred her Gesi and Kha traditions to those of the gladiator's guild. She found the armor they had her wear constricting for the movements they wanted her to make, and were rather specific about her doing things their way. She was tired of it, and rather discouraged about the time wasted.

At the suggestion of Momodi, Monx found herself at the Arrzaneth Ossuary. She took a moment to admire the large shrine in front of her, then spoke with the guild receptionist. She put her name down as Raspberry Custard (after a short and rather awkward recount of where the name came from), spoke to the guild master, and couldn't help but smile slightly as she was given the equipment to start her new path. She found a place to cast off her gladiator armor and change into her new spell-casting garb, went and sold her old gear, then wandered off toward the city gates to go figure out how this magic thing worked.

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Now here's the thing, if you're going to be reckless enough to sprint through a crowded area, you're accepting the risk of making an ass of yourself and running into someone. There's a certain duty of care that goes with mad-dashing around in a place where people are literally materializing out of thin air.

That said, Connor saw the other lalfell before hitting her. He very distinctly remembers noting and then swerving to go around her. He knows he did this, and yet here he is, freeze-frame falling over himself and trying very very quickly to suss out what kind of bizarre and unfortunate trip could make a small person flail into his path like that. Tough luck, introspection hour is over.

From the steps to the winding bend of the path to the guild he meant to go to, Connor doesn't fall. Instead he control-falls, arms flapping, feet kicking, dignity abandoned because he's decided falling itself is worse than this chocobo dance. In fact, he's even maintaining speed! And regaining balance. Yes, YES, HE WINS!

"Gotta do better than that! Can't catch me!" He shouts back over his shoulder, a hushed warning touching his cheek so when he keeps going forward, Connor can hike up one knee with a little bounce, then hop-jump his way over the tumbled boulder. He even punches the air at the height of said jump, and away he goes for the archer's guild.

Haha, yes, taunting strangers in the city who have nothing to do with him, he is The Best(TM) conjurer.

Edited Date: 2018-04-26 03:42 pm (UTC)

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As it turns out, being appointed personal envoy to Kan-E-Senna is actually a lot of air travel in very little time.

One would think that the three leaders would have a personal linkshel connection for this but no, these messages had to be delivered in person.

It's the second time in three months that she's been back home, and after she's delivered the missive to Nanamo and Raubahn, she's taking a bit of down time.

She's grabbed an Iced Maple Tea from Momodi, and is making her way to the coolest building in the city. The Ossuary is dark and the heavy stone building keeps the heat out even in the hottest of days, though whether or not the Thaumaturges inside have been making their own heat or not is usually fifty fifty.

She strides into the building, already taking off her outer archer's layers and her wailer mask, letting her blonde hair free of her tiny travelling bun.

There seems to be someone new by the reception today. She's not seen her before, at least, and she knows that she hasn't been gone long enough for the guild to change that rapidly.

"Yayake, are tou tempting another innocent passer by into your guild again?" She playfully chides the receptionist, then turns to the woman. "Pray, don't fall into the hands of Coco and his brothers, they're very odd." Her voice is loud enough to echo throughout the hall and the grin on her face is obviously taunting.

From the back of the hall you can hear a voice that yells "Stay out of it Conada!"

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Oh, well, she sees how it's going to be. She's tempted to just leave it, the idiot can keep running and get smacked by more boulders if he really wants to, but she feels something like vague disappointment in the area, and that seems to spur her on.

She doesn't realise until later that it wasn't her disappointment.

She walks the last part of the path and sees the Archer's guild for the first time, closed off but warm, looking out onto the great Gridanian lakes, and she falls in love.

She is welcomed into the guild with little hesitation, her skill around a bow already pretty formidable as she'd learnt to defend herself and her crops when she was younger, and she makes an immediate friend in Leih Aliapoh.

It's not until ten minutes later that a white robed figure comes into view whilst she's shooting. A hand lands on her shoulder and she looks up to see Lucianne eyeing her from above.

"Piñara, I would like you to accompany the wailers on their daily patrols, if you will. There's some business that the other archers have to take care of first, and this would be a good opportunity for you to see the day to day work that we do." The Elezen smiles, and gestures at the group of three Wailers that stand behind her - and the man in the white robes.

"Men, this is our newest recruit. I want you to take her around the Shroud patrol if you would. She's already had an encounter with the Ixal and managed to keep herself safe through that, so don't you worry about her 'Dragging you Down'." Lucianne gives one of the wailers a pointed look, and somehow Pinya can tell that he's been chastised, even through the mask.

Pinya smirks at him, just slightly, and bows to them.

"A pleasure." She puts on her best, winning smile.

Now that she can see him, the lala looks... familiar - but she can't place it.

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If only someone, anyone, in his twenty-odd years on this star, had taught him to walk like a lalafell and not sprint everywhere then maybe he wouldn’t feel as dumb as he does right now. The same platinum blonde from the Aetherite Plaza is here at the Archer’s guild, she’s an archer, and he’s dumb. Oh well, in times like this it’s best to take a page from nature’s book, and like a rock just blatantly ignore everything around you until erosion does it’s best to remove you from the situation. Yes good. Good plan.

The fact that she’s a Dunesfolk doesn’t sit great with him. Being the same background in Gridania means they’ll probably have to talk, and talking is bad. Talking means people get to know you and you have to like. Say things about yourself. Mm. No, he doesn’t like that. But he’s also been out of Ul’dah for a few years so he can probably get away with talking about gridania. And rocks? Yes. He will talk about rocks and plants and she’ll leave him alone. Good plan. He’s good at this.

The wailers aren’t thrilled to have company on their patrol but Connor lets it slide without comment. He doesn’t ask where they’re going, but waits for one of the Elezen to look down at the two lalafells from behind their mask and stoutly say: “This morning’s patrol is a trip to the Bannock and through to Bentbranch Meadows.. Don’t fall behind.” Thats decent. The Bannock is a well worn path with little need for a healer or a conjured. Should be an easy afternoon.

He nods and pulls up the hood of his white robe, cane in hand. It’s plain with a grey under layer over the rest of his clothes, he’s no white mage to go wearing red, and white makes him easier to see and thus less likely to get kicked or stepped on. Stupid Elezen. Has the new girl been kicked around yet? It sucks.

He doesn’t offer much conversation. In fact as they get ready to leave he catches her eye and heads her off before she can start:

“Don’t pay me much mind, I’m just here in case anyone wanders into a bramble patch or traipses too far off the path. I trust you know not to go picking flowers silly-nilly in the Shroud? Then the wailers will have more to show you then I will.”

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Her eyes widen and she puts a hand to her cheek in surprise, then moves it to cover her mouth. She leans in close, moving to clutch at her breast with the other hand.
"I'm supposed to trust a man that almost ran into a rock?" She asks, voice full of false innocence and concern, before she winks at him and dutifully follows the other men out of the building.

The Elezen manages to piss her off in under five minutes, treating her like a chore and immediately dismissing any of her skill. They're halfway to Bentbranch when he tells her off for 'falling behind' when she is simply watching the forest.

"Don't fall behind?" She finally snaps. "Boy, I can whip your behind five ways to Horizon. I might be new here, but you certainly will not talk to me with such disrespect." The silver tongue she's cultivated over two and a half decades in the ballrooms of Ul'dah is sharp and ready, and though she wanted to start afresh, it wouldn't do to allow people to step over her so. She wasn't a wailer, and so she had no desire to bow to this man's non existent authority over her.

"Why - You."

"Careful now, you might start to break that mask over your face. I wonder if you have to wear it for preference over the one your mother gave you?" She quips.

The Man lunges, but she's too fast for him. She's made a quick sidestep and is easily out of range when a Banemite scuttles forward from the bushes behind him, aggravated by the commotion.

There's hardly time for her to give a warning as all of these idiots attention are on the little skit she's in, so instead, she goes for his knees.

With a precise kick, the Elezen goes down just in time for a stinger to thrust into the space his back was only seconds earlier. Quick as a flash her bow is strung, and an the arrow flies straight into the eye of the insect.

The fight is done. The Wailers are silent as she goes to retrieve her arrow from the socket of the monster, puts it back in her quiver, and she starts to walk away.

"Do keep up, won't you?" She calls back.

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What was supposed to be an easy walk to the Bannock is being way harder than Connor thinks it ought to. The Wailer won’t stop being an ass, and while Connor just keeps quiet at the barbs about not needing a babysitter, or how the conjurers could have at least sent a proper healer, the Archer doesn’t take the barbs about walking speed and cowardly arrows nearly as well. Why should she though? He’s been being an ass.

“Quiet through these-” but no they’d rather stop and really get into it with each other, the wind and sun remarking only on the webbing that quiets the trees on this length of the trail. “Or don’t.” This sucks. He’s hungry.

But then the diremite is there jibbering as the wailer and the archer get into it. The wind coils and flies soft and warm off Connor’s hand before becoming a cold zypher and slashing the creature’s face, hobbling it so instead of a leap with pincers it has to attack with its tail- a jab that missed because the Wailer drops from the Archer’s attack.

Connor can see she knows it’s there, so answers the soft cry of water as he turns and raises his hand in a halting gesture. The cold mists and gurgling ire of an attracted water spirit calm. They’re near the river, a sure sign that the Bannock is just around a few more bends, and that this little spat with nature didn’t have to happen.

One of the wailers steps up to-

“If you attack a frightened spirit of this forest, you’re not going to like the outcome.” He might not be native but he’s still a conjurer, and the aether webbing gently off his hand and cane calm the sprite. With a quiet splish-splosh, it drifts back down below the cool stones and wades back down into the waters.

One dead diremite for Connor to mold earth around and dispose of off the path, and then he catches back up with this troublesome party.

“So much for a simple walk through the woods.” They’re late, he’s hungry and now he’s really, really grumpy.

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Q'uila swings herself off of the back of the Chocobo Porter as it arrives by the Carline Canopy, mindful of her lance and the numerous hides attached to a belt slung across her shoulders.

She had only been in Gridania for four months or so but, thanks to her mother's recommendation and her success with the Lancer's Guild she had been granted the rare permission to hunt for skins within the Shroud.

Making her way towards the Leatherworking Guild, she nods at some of the shop-keeps and citizens, people who were slowly becoming more and more familiar to her.

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There’s not a commotion per-say as Q’uila enters the Leatherworker’s Guild. But there’s certainly some excited conversation and a puzzled looking guildmaster staring down at a stubborn-looking lalafell.

“But you’re a conjurer?”

“Conjurers wear boots and gloves like anybody else, Ma’am.”

“Alright, fine, how’s about this?” She finally relents. Though not unconditionally: “If you can prepare me a stack of ten proper leather rolls, I’ll grant you membership in the guild. As for how someone such as yourself will go about gathering said skins for tanning, I leave that-” he’s already figured it out.

“You there!” Connor is very, very quick to throw himself at the Mi’qote woman bearing an arm full of whatever those are. “I’ll pay you with a week’s healing services for half those skins, and I’ll return half the leftover cured leather for the full stack.” So he gives ten to the guild, keeps half the remainder to work and sell, and gives the last bit back to the lancer. Profits for everyone and all he’s spending is labour!

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Monx was adjusting her new spell-casting clothes and listening to the guild receptionist prattle off a suggestion of what monsters to kill that would be easy to handle and practice spell-casting. The receptionist also had given her a hunting log of marks that would help her test her skills as she improved with her spell-casting. The receptionist just finished up speaking when she heard a woman address the receptionist in a familiar way. She glanced up from her sleeve and looked over to the woman. Another Lalafell, taunting the guildmaster. Monx couldn't hide the slight smile she had.

"If the guildmaster and his brothers are odd, then that's exactly what I've been looking for." Monx was perhaps a little too excited, but this is the first person she's really talked to that wasn't a merchant. She moved on before the fellow Lalafell could make anything more than a raised eyebrow. "Maybe this is a little bit forward, but I go by Raspberry Custard!" She caught herself, embarrassed. "I-I know; that's not a real name. Raspberry is a joke from when I was a kid. I had a friend that was really creative and she made up this crazy fruit called a raspberry." A blush could be seen creeping onto her cheeks. She stopped abruptly, realizing it was probably time to shut up. She stuck her hand out for a shake. "It's nice to meet you ...Conada!?"

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"Woah, hey! Take a breath, Ras! Is it okay if I call you Ras?' She has a big smile on her face, watching the cute lady get excited.

"My name is Piñara Conada of Conada Enterprises, and more recently, a Gridanian envoy." She holds out her hand to shake. When Ras takes it, she pull her in close and stage whispers to her.

"Coco back there is one of the best Thaumaturgists in the city," she pulls back, "but don't let him know I said that, okay? If you'd like, once you've introduced yourself to them, I can show you around the city proper?" It's only kind, and she really doesn't want to see this woman get heckled by the merchant strip.

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Being accosted by a Lalafel was not a part of Q'uila's plan for the rest of her day but here she is, pulling up short as he bustles over to her. The offer is a good one, a week of healing for what basically took her an afternoon. However...

"I'm sorry but these have already been paid for in advance by the Guild, I would like to help, especially with such a generous trade but it would do my reputation here no good if I handed them over."

She shifts from foot to foot, ears twitching, she could really use that healing though...

"If...you really need the skins...I could have the amount you need by this time tomorrow. If you're willing to wait a bit that is."

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At the inquiry of her name, Raspberry nodded. Ras was fine. She smiled at the introduction, pretending she knew what Conada Enterprises was, and doing her best to look like she knew of what Piñara was talking about. While she knew of places outside of Othard, she only really knew them vaguely by name. Geography wasn't something that was necessarily focused upon among the Xaela tribes.

"I won't breathe a word to him!" She paused for a moment. "I actually arrived here a few days ago..."

Just go with it. She's really pretty, and you did keep getting turned around on your way to the gladiator's guild.

She smiled sheepishly. "But, honestly, a proper tour would be wonderful! The city is so big and I keep getting turned around. I'm ready to go, but I'm sure you came here for some reason other than to heckle the brothers and show me around?" She did not want to get in the way of Piñara's mission for arrival and was more than happy to wait, examining the entry shrine, while Piñara took care of her own business. When they were ready to leave, Raspberry opened the door for Piñara, kindly gesturing that she would follow her out.

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"Ahh, actually, my business in the city here is finished! I actually came just to cool off. The Ossuary is one of the airiest buildings in Ul'Dah, and the brothers here are just as good at casting ice spells as they are fire." She grins cheekily. She could totally get one of them to slushie up her tea.

"You get yourself started with the stooges over there though, and I'll be waiting by the door." She winks as Ras goes off to get her basic tuition, and is pleased to see that her new friend is courteous as well.

The first place she takes Ras is a nook-in-the-wall café simply called 'Happy'. Theres a bar, and maybe ten small two-seater tables set up in the space. There's a gaggle of teenagers that have claimed three of the tables and smushed them up together, sporting a wide assortment of sweet dishes, an old couple sharing a slice of lemon cake and lastly a mother and her baby taking a rest in the shade.

There's a wonderful scent of baked goods, coffee and bread wafting about. It's nigh intoxicating for Pina.

"Hoi, Piña!" a voice calls from further inside the building. A rosy-cheeked highlander woman waves from behind the bar. "You've brought a friend, I see?"

"Aye! Ras, this is Mona, the gal who owns the best Café in the city." She beams, gesturing for her to get up onto one of the bar stools. They're not made for Lalafell, but they at least have a rung so that it's not difficult to climb up onto one.

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By the time they get to Bentbranch, The conjurer is audibly mumbling to himself about how hungry he is. Or at least, that's what Pinya reads the Lala mumbling to mean.

The Wailers drop them as soon as it's feasibly possible, going to their check and making a point to stay there, where the civilians were discouraged from going.

"Well, sod the lot of them." She says cheerfully. "How about you and I grab some food." She turns to Connor. "You know this place better; food's on me because I had to kill that Diremite." She offers.

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This is not the answer Connor wanted, and that’s clear by the dismal look on his face, but he holds back his immediate complaints and disparaging comments. No, she’s right: it only makes good business sense to hold to and deliver on your contracts. He was never any good at business according to unimportant persons in Ul’dah, but even he knows this.

“Alright.” Nooooo, “that sounds fair.” It’s fair but it sucks. “If you could deliver them to the Stillglade- wait, no.” He can see how many skins she has, and it’s good for his needs but- heavy. So, so heavy. “Deliver then here tomorrow afternoon. My name is Connor, of the Conjurer’s guild, but if all goes well I should be adding Atelier Fen-Yll to that soon enough.”

And then he can make some money. Not a lot, he doesn’t need a lot. Just. Some. Enough. He needs enough.

He’s so sick of bread, water, and berries.

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Q'uila smiles and inclines her head down at the Lala. "Well met Conner, I am Q'uila Sunrise. Thank you for your patience and I'll have your skins here tomorrow."

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The next day was much like the day previous, she came back to Gridania on chocobo, a sash full of animal skins slung about her person. There was one difference in the and that was that she was limping rather badly and now had a bleeding gash across her face.

Grumbling to herself as she gingerly makes her way to Leatherworking Guild, it was a bloody good job she was getting some free healing out of this, sodding Trents.

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To be completely honest, Ras hadn't noticed the cafe at all, and the idea of a cafe was foreign to her. She looked around the cafe, eating up as many details as she quickly could, her eyes lingering on the sweets the teenagers had. The smell off coffee and the almost heavy smell of sugar and baking hung heavy in the air. It was wonderful.

Her attention turned to Mona as she called out, giving Mona a small wave hello as Piña told her who Mona was. She climbed up onto one of the bar stools and got comfortable, looking over the posted menu behind the counter. "You'd think, this being Ul'dah, things would be more Lalafell size." The comment was a lighthearted joke, but Ras was sure to wait until Mona was tending to someone before commenting on it in fear that she would take it offensively.

"I'm not sure what to get - it smells wonderful in here and I haven't been part of a proper civilization for a while, so I'm a little overwhelmed." That's not true. Her civilization was proper, just different. Very different. Try to sound rural. From the middle of nowhere. She looked to Piña. "What would you suggest? I'm sure everything here is good, but certainly you must have a favorite."

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'I had nothing to do with this.' Connor complains silently as the Wailers seem just as distrustful and done with him as they are with the Archer, whose name he really ought to have picked up before leaving the city because now he's stuck with her.

He should also try being a bit nicer. It's hard being an adventurer in Gridania, even a sedentary one like Connor himself, and he knows it's not always best to just take the locals' bad attitudes lying down. She was right to bicker and fight back, the Wailers are jerks. Stupid ugly jerks with their stupid ugly masks. So he turns to say something to the Archer but then

she says

the word.

"Food?" He repeats, completely forgetting that he should be offering her a lecture, albeit a small one. He ought to remind her that the creatures of the forest are the forest and that they, Gridanians and their allies, are the guests who must abide by- "Yeah, follow me. It's this way, and it's really good." Food he doesn't have to pay for, although this time he could actually afford it: working for a few hours a week with the Leatherworkers and Carpenters in the city has finally put a modest bit of gil in his pockets. Conjurers don't get to keep what they make: it all goes into funds for local projects and charity. "I'm Connor by the way. Thank you for making such clean work of the kill." Faster kill, less suffering, a forgivable death.

Food food food food food...

Bentbranch is bright and lush and lovely today, a hard-working little hamlet with no market of which to speak, but a few small kiosks and hutches set up to supply the patrolling Wailers and travellers passing through.

Connor takes his remaining companion straight for one of these little hutches where the smell of bubbling oil keeps wafting deliciously. The meal of choice is a local trout, seasoned battered and fried golden brown, then stuffed into a fresh baked bun with crispy greens and tomatoes and a tangy sauce.

Experience has taught him he can put away three of these things. Decent manners say he shouldn't order more than Pinya does. Wearing Conjurer's robes in a Shroud hamlet means he orders one (1) fish sandwich and forces himself to savour it slowly. He takes half a bite and just holds the whole sandwich there at his face, a dreamy look clouding his eyes, because it smells so good and yum yum yum food food food.

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All day long, Connor can't decide if he should have offered to go with Q'uila for the hunting. After all, if he starts healing a day sooner than he'll finish a day faster! But he missed his chance to make the offer yesterday and has been hard at work reading through the crafting book and looking over his own tools. Then there was the usual conjury to worry about: meditation, chores, meditation, lessons, meditation, meal time, meditation, and so on.

So he's ready for some hard work today and a change of pace when, by the bridge leading to the Leatherworker's guild, he sees the same peony-pink Mi'wote woman- limping? Oh, that knocks some of the smugness right out of him.

Should have offered to go with her.

"Miss Sunrise!" Be cool, Connor, be cool. People get hurt and that's just how things are, even if they only got hurt because they were doing something you asked of them and weren't even offering gil for. Because you don't have any gil. Because you took up residence with people who have no use for money. You fool. "I- uh, see you've had a productive morning!" What? " And wounds." Idiot. "You're bleeding- your head is bleeding. Perhaps come this way and sit down?" He means towards one of the benches resting in the shade of the city trees.

While she does that, he has to get his gear sorted: an awl and hammer are useless right now, he needs his cane which is wrapped up in his bag along with his robe and his gloves and he's a dumb little boy and a bad healer for sending a hunter off into the woods alone.

"Did something happen in the forest? Perhaps I should go with you next time." But first he needs to fix this.

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Q'uila is more than willing to let the Lala chivvy her into a Seat, scowling the entire time.

"It was business as usual, I'd just grabbed the last skin when a group of Ixali decide to come traipsing through the area heading to Lifemend Stump. I went to hide but the tree I'd decided to hide behind turned out to be a trent."

She shrugs the sash holding the skins off of herself and onto the seat next to her. The Miqo'te wasn't particularly bothered by the injuries, she'd had worse from training, she was more annoyed at being caught off-guard by a tree.

" I'll admit, I didn't expect to be making use of your services so soon, but I'm certainly grateful, I'll need to head to Wood Wailers and let them know what happened."

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