From the Wild [open]

[Nyahna Sasin]

He frowned. Of course, that wasn't quite right. He had nothing to be curious about. It was fairly obvious to him what had happened. A young, ignorant kelvic had forgotten about clothes, a human had been curious, and a hunter tried playing the hero. Nothing really to wonder about. It was strange, but understandable. Just people being people

What was really keeping him with them was boredom. Simple boredom. He had no desire to go out hunting again, and even less desire to wander the market. Even underground, the place was freezing. So that was it. He was just bored, and there was nothing else to do.

He glanced up to see Coba studying him and Jonathon intently. He smirked a little, and sighed under his breath. She was being far to obvious about it. He could practically feel her gaze.

He simply shrugged at her question. "The Rearing, perhaps? I wouldn't know." He preferred to eat in his natural form.

[Sanibelle]

Sanibelle reached down into one of her saddle bags and felt around with a nervous hand. She hoped she would be spared of scrutiny when she left her companions to find clothing. More so than that, she hated feeling lost. Where in the name of all that was good could she find this clothing store that Coba spoke of?

She grabbed her coin purse and held it close to her body under Coba's coat. She would search until she found this clothing store, and then return. She lept down from her mount and passed the reins to Coba.

"Please," she said, "Please take care of him until I return. I will be back as soon as I may."

She turned and walked, looking left and right for the clothing store. She had in mind to purchase something simple and easy to change in and out of when making her transformations. Something to be stored in her saddlebags if need be. Finally, she narrowed her search down to a small but comfortable, simple dress and cloak. Now, to find this clothing center.

[Coba]

She accepted the reins with a nod, grasping the leather as her fingers curled around the leather. Her other hand absently rubbed the investigative nose that accompanied the reins, her eyes preoccupied by the retreating, if a little uncertain, back of Sanibelle. Unease, or a twinge of guilt, that she had sent Sanibelle like a lamb as sacrifice to the shopping gods, if there was such a thing. Looking around the people surrounding the girl, and the buildings, she yelled after her: "End of the street, on your left!" That's where she remembered having seen the display cases, though she'd be no help in terms of signs. She hoped that the woman would have some preservation skills and ask some bustling middle age lady for directions if Coba was incorrect in her own directives. There were usually some assortment of housewives and similar stations moving about the streets in their working days. She caught Sasin's snigger, and it took her a moment to place why. She supposed he had cause, seeing as she was glaring a bit on the rude side at Jonathon. While others, mostly simpering idiots, might hide their personable objectives behind fans and fluttering hands, Coba saw the act of concealing one's real goal that had nothing to do with life, death or work, to be rather an unnecessary exercise in mental waste. She felt like telling him so, but rather then poke around at that topic, especially with a being that was probably double her age at least and with snake blood in him, and therefore a natural inclination towards mystery and veiled action, she resigned herself to shooting him a look and sticking out her tongue. It wasn't as if anyone was ever going to call her mature. Apathy ingrained into the general atmosphere, she felt that Sasin's shrug embodied the dullness that was prevailing after the rush of their meeting. She didn't feel particularly sad about this, but maybe disappointed that it was turning out like this. Coba had neither social practice or inclination to alleviate it, so she merely sighed. "Oh goody, we have an agreement." She spoke of their attempt at helpfulness, laced with sarcasm.

[Jonathon DuFraine]

Jonathon, absorbed in his own thoughts, didn't react to anything the others did around him. He was bored, waiting for Sanibelle to finish her shopping, and he did have a lot to think about. And just because he wasn't reacting, didn't mean he wasn't watching. He wasn't as vigilant as when he was on the hunt, but he certainly was watching his companions, and the people around him.

Jonathon leaned against a wall, keeping his expression neutral. He was used to being bored; he was a hunter. They often hunted for hours in the wilderness until something arrived to be shot. He looked around at his present company; they didn't seem to like each other, which meant this whole party seemed based on distrust. The only people who seemed to have any sort of trust in each other was Sanibelle and Coba. Jonathon spoke up, addressing Coba.

"So how exactly do you and Sanibelle know each other?" Jonathon didn't know that they weren't traveling together or anything; he arrived after the two had met. The way Sanibelle seemed to trust Coba with her horse suggested she knew her well, especially since Sanibelle seemed attached to her horse.

[Nyahna Sasin]

He watched, amused as Sanibelle dismounted her horse. She seemed so naive it was almost painful to watch. This was a big city, and there were quite a few people worse than he. He somehow doubted that she would get through the city unscathed. This was bad. If she was hurt, he'd be stuck with two angry humans, and the knights would be investigating them. Him. Whatever. He grimaced as Coba shouted out directions. This was doubly bad. The shop was actually on the left end of the street to the right of the one they were on.

He simply grinned cheekily as Coba stuck her tongue out. How mature. He had never really seen the point of that gesture. He understood that it was a childish gesture, a sort of insult before they learned any other, more effective insults, but he had never understood why they did it.

Sighing softly, Sasin said quietly "I'm gonna go after her. We'll meet you at the Rearing then, if we're agreed." Turning, he headed off after Sanibelle. Grabbing her arm, he gently steered her towards the right. "Wrong street. The shop's that way." He told her.

[Rayque]

Sorry to you all! Did not mean to interupt your thread! Please delete this post for me if you are able to, thanks.

[Sanibelle]

Sanibelle reacted quickly to the feeling of pressure against her arm. Her teeth flashed as she snapped at Sasin, a rather loud snick sound was emitted. A bit of spittle dotted her bottom lip. Her golden eyes shimmered with the fury of self defense.

It was then that it occurred to her that it had been Sasin that grabbed her. While she felt slightly relieved, she was not ecstatic about the scare. Her tense body loosened, lips falling back to cover her teeth, though her eyes remained narrowed, brow furrowed.

"Don't do that..." She whispered, with a slight shake of her head. A short huff issued from her parted teeth before she looked away. Maybe this Sasin wasn't out for blood after all. He was helping her. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had offered their help to her, much less the last time she accepted. With a curious twitch of her nose, she softened ever so slightly. She would allow Sasin to escort her in the correct direction. After all, it sure beat being lost.

[Coba]

Coba fidgeted on the spot, finding it worrying to be left holding the horse while others, and the only true friendly, wander off the other way. While her directions might be dead wrong, she wasn't sure of the exact types of wrong Sasin could guide Sanibelle, but could figure that there might be some element of that. She herself would have followed, but she could hardly drag the horse along through the increasing population density that the other two were headed through. She hoped her remembered her sword should he think of pulling something. Flicking her attention back to the Jonathon fellow, she looked him up and down once more, pondering if he was worth the effort of being something other then unpleasant to. Considering he'd gone to the effort of trying to put an arrow through what for all intensive purposes was an aggressor to them, she decided she might as well probe him. "We don't," she said bluntly. "I offered her my coat before you and the other bloke came out of the woodwork." She was through asking herself that question, accounting it to gender, battlefield positions and avaliability. But if he was going to ask personal questions, she might as well go tit-for-tat. "And what, as I would figure from ginger hair and a bow, is an Inarta doing so far from the mountains?" The irony that she, also a ginger, but not to her knowledge Inarta herself, was stereotyping him for it, made her smirk only ever so slightly. She walked off in the direction of the tavern aforementioned. While she might not know where the dressmaker's hole in the wall was, she most certainly had become familiar with the bar district. She only asked their opinion on food because she never went inside to eat there, much happier to people watch for her entertainment. She couldn't conduct this practice inside without handing over coin.

[Jonathon DuFraine]

Jonathon nodded. "I guess... offered her a coat..." She had started to walk towards the tavern, and Jonathon matched her pace. She herself wasn't exactly Mrs. Friendly, and her words sounded rather scathing. But at least she was talking, and that was better than nothing to talk to, especially since this person was paying for his next meal.

Jonathon patted his scarlet hair in indignation. Ginger! She's the ginger of this group! Jonathon's hair was Inartian red, not the orange color of other human's 'red' hair. Jonathon glared at her, actually offended. "I am most certainly not a ginger, but you are quite right. I am Inartan. My family moved to Syliras during my childhood; I remember nothing of my birthplace."

Jonathon decided to probe Coba further. He asked a question that might make Coba angry or depressing, from what Jonathon knew about mixed- bloods, but he tried to word it nicely. Trading impoliteness for depth of personal importance. "You know my race, but I'm pretty sure that what ever you are, you aren't a fullblood. What races flow through your veins?"

[Nyahna Sasin]

Sasin jerked back, releasing her as he snarled at him. Years of meeting with wild animals had him react instinctively, and for a single instant, he tensed, forgetting that he was still in his human form, and had no tail. He relaxed almost immediately, shaking his head and grinning sheepishly at her. "Sorry." He said. He really should learn not to grab a kelvic. Especially not one as jumpy as her.

He made a motion with his hand, indicating for her to follow him before setting off through the crowd. He kept close to her, adjusting his jacket slightly so that his daggers were visible, and in reach. He sent his best death glares as well, to anyone to stared at Sanibell for too long.

When they reached the shop, Sasin sighed with relief. "I'll just wait outside, shall I?" He asked, turning back to the kelvic.