Bird Speak | Common | Vani
Although she was in constant thought and contemplation of life and all its wonders, there was a childlike mirth that never seemed to leave the kelvic, and when Markus played on her words and parroted back the jest, the curve to Altaira's own lips left her in a mood far more open to conversing and entertainment with the knight.
She never understood why the knights wore such bulky clothes and gear, the struggle in which it took the man to remove his gauntlet and examine the tolm leaving her with a frown and a raised eyebrow - such a look of perplexity and downright confusion a look that was apparently all to common to her when attempting to deal with any who served the order, save a few. To her, a woman who worked with daggers and fists, speed was of the essence. It was getting in fast and sharp - doing the damage that needed done and leaving before injury was turned inflicted. Such heavy clothes would prove little more than a hindrance.
Altaira almost snorted when Markus marvelled at the usefulness of the plant, her golden eyes narrowing at his form, a critical gaze sliding over his features and the weapons he carried, the shortest of moments spent wondering how much their definitions of 'useful' varied. A flinch when the Soothing Waters was mentioned was something beyond Altaira's control, too many thoughts and memories burning to the surface.
'Soothing Waters, sweet Millicent works there, does she not?'
Blood flushed to her face in a prickling anger, thoughts of the occurrence some season ago flooding to mind- how much the poor, sweet little thing had been beaten, how high her fever and how useless the knights had shown to be. What was it that Marrick had said again? Was it the fault of his own or dear Millicent. Was it the order or not apprehending him sooner or was it Altaira's own for not ensuring the younger woman was better prepared for the atrocities of the world?
'Justice was at least carried out quick- had not the knights death with him, then I surely would have.'
She relaxed her jaw and loosened her form, not realising how tense she'd snapped at mention of the establishment, nor how deep her thoughts had sent her, finally giving a light nod to Markus' words. 'Judge not an order by one man... or a half dozen, it seems.' "They'd be daft if they didn't," she said with a light breath, thoughts once more counting how many days had passed since she'd last seen her dear little friend. "Not familiar with Soothing Waters, though a good friend works there, my place is at Stormhold Salves."
It was with a knowing look that she spoke of her work place, seeing little use in hiding the name of the establishment if it would only cause her new found 'acquaintance' reason to think ill or suspicion of her. Even more so if her way was had and her days living in the bastion as numbered as she supposed them to be, and she was quite interested in learning whatever it was the knight had to offer her.
The analogy threw her off guard, her look bordering on bewildered as the man continued to speak of tents and shelter, a breathless muse of laughter bubbling from her lips as she thought him fumbling around his strange thinking. It made sense- quite a lot of sense in the base of the thought, but it reminded her perhaps a little too much of herself, and how she approached the skill when her kelvic mind could scarecely hold the most base of concepts.
"True, true," she sighed, pulling herself to her feet with a final huff and harsh look to the plant. “I’m told that this winter was particularly harsh, it might not have lasted the extreme weather without its… tent." She rolled her neck and dusted her hands, another solid look to the plant as she took in its entirety to memory - from the smell, to the touch and health. If there was anything that made up for the kelvic's incapability to recall solid fact and knowledge, it was her ways with recalling sight, touch, and sound.
“It bodes well enough, if it lived then there is much hope for others, though I will need to speak to the Mistress. She knows are better than I," With that, she let a breath roll off her tongue, flitting her gaze throughout the trees and surrounding regions before throwing Markus her attentions. “Was there something else you wished to know?" She let the question ring out for a moment, gaze shooting to the tree tops to survey the chatter for a moment, before allowing it to once more slip and settle on the knight's face and form.
“And you? Is there a trick in combat you have no mind in parting with?"
She never understood why the knights wore such bulky clothes and gear, the struggle in which it took the man to remove his gauntlet and examine the tolm leaving her with a frown and a raised eyebrow - such a look of perplexity and downright confusion a look that was apparently all to common to her when attempting to deal with any who served the order, save a few. To her, a woman who worked with daggers and fists, speed was of the essence. It was getting in fast and sharp - doing the damage that needed done and leaving before injury was turned inflicted. Such heavy clothes would prove little more than a hindrance.
Altaira almost snorted when Markus marvelled at the usefulness of the plant, her golden eyes narrowing at his form, a critical gaze sliding over his features and the weapons he carried, the shortest of moments spent wondering how much their definitions of 'useful' varied. A flinch when the Soothing Waters was mentioned was something beyond Altaira's control, too many thoughts and memories burning to the surface.
'Soothing Waters, sweet Millicent works there, does she not?'
Blood flushed to her face in a prickling anger, thoughts of the occurrence some season ago flooding to mind- how much the poor, sweet little thing had been beaten, how high her fever and how useless the knights had shown to be. What was it that Marrick had said again? Was it the fault of his own or dear Millicent. Was it the order or not apprehending him sooner or was it Altaira's own for not ensuring the younger woman was better prepared for the atrocities of the world?
'Justice was at least carried out quick- had not the knights death with him, then I surely would have.'
She relaxed her jaw and loosened her form, not realising how tense she'd snapped at mention of the establishment, nor how deep her thoughts had sent her, finally giving a light nod to Markus' words. 'Judge not an order by one man... or a half dozen, it seems.' "They'd be daft if they didn't," she said with a light breath, thoughts once more counting how many days had passed since she'd last seen her dear little friend. "Not familiar with Soothing Waters, though a good friend works there, my place is at Stormhold Salves."
It was with a knowing look that she spoke of her work place, seeing little use in hiding the name of the establishment if it would only cause her new found 'acquaintance' reason to think ill or suspicion of her. Even more so if her way was had and her days living in the bastion as numbered as she supposed them to be, and she was quite interested in learning whatever it was the knight had to offer her.
The analogy threw her off guard, her look bordering on bewildered as the man continued to speak of tents and shelter, a breathless muse of laughter bubbling from her lips as she thought him fumbling around his strange thinking. It made sense- quite a lot of sense in the base of the thought, but it reminded her perhaps a little too much of herself, and how she approached the skill when her kelvic mind could scarecely hold the most base of concepts.
"True, true," she sighed, pulling herself to her feet with a final huff and harsh look to the plant. “I’m told that this winter was particularly harsh, it might not have lasted the extreme weather without its… tent." She rolled her neck and dusted her hands, another solid look to the plant as she took in its entirety to memory - from the smell, to the touch and health. If there was anything that made up for the kelvic's incapability to recall solid fact and knowledge, it was her ways with recalling sight, touch, and sound.
“It bodes well enough, if it lived then there is much hope for others, though I will need to speak to the Mistress. She knows are better than I," With that, she let a breath roll off her tongue, flitting her gaze throughout the trees and surrounding regions before throwing Markus her attentions. “Was there something else you wished to know?" She let the question ring out for a moment, gaze shooting to the tree tops to survey the chatter for a moment, before allowing it to once more slip and settle on the knight's face and form.
“And you? Is there a trick in combat you have no mind in parting with?"
