A Weave Of Friendship (Valarian)

by **Haeli** on January 17th, 2011, 8:19 pm

Timestamp: Early Winter, 509 AV (Flashback)
Reason: Visiting Valarian For Cloth

Once the guards had escorted her to the Meadows Public House, Haeli gratefully took a seat at one of the more shadowy tables away from the hearth and gratefully took up the server on an offer of a strong cup of tea pushing over a far too large coin to pay for the drink than she should have. People, even Symenestra people, were new to her. So too were cities. This was the first she'd ever visited and its strangeness marveled her. The truth was, she didn't know what to do, how to act, and who to even talk too. She had no knowledge that visitors took rooms for coin and stayed within them. She didn't know about shops or merchants or even if or when people cared to be greeted and what was acceptable to talk about.

Ozantha had told her nothing of these things, assuming she'd be in the swamp forever.

So Haeli hid in her trader form, one she'd long ago studied and perfected, and quietly tried not to fall to pieces with fear and uncertainty as she waited for Valarian. There was a chance he wasn't even in the city. There was also a chance he wouldn't understand why she choose to come in the form of a male. There was also a chance she'd be in the Meadows far longer than she could hold the form.

Time passed. She continued to wait. Haeli had no idea if she was interrupting Valarian or her presence might prove to be a disruption or intrusion. The city made her nervous, not because of its denizens but just because it was. Symenestra were all over, both males and females, and she tried not to stare though the sight was an amazement to her.

So she held her form and continued to nurse her tea, conscious of the passing time and the wear on her holding the trader's shape.

Speaking of holding, her tea was empty and her bladder was full and she had no idea what to do about it. Haeli hadn't remembered drinking all of the tea, nor did she even remotely know how to ask someone where she could relieve herself. As time passed and she waited, the girl felt more and more like this was a bad idea. Her skin twitched, the form sat uneasy on her, and even though males had bigger bladders than females, there was a small emergency building within her that could not wait much longer.

In fact, she wasn't even sure she could make it back to the gates with her form in its entirety and her bladder still full.

Derek Salvi :

by **Velarian Zantedeschia** on January 20th, 2011, 5:21 pm

The quiet of Velarian's work room was only interrupted by the muted clicking of his loom. Two spans he had managed since starting three hours previous, plain white linen woven from hardwearing fibers. It would make good material for the working clothes his sister intended to sew in the season to come. His fingers trailed the fabric, searching for flaws when a sound caused him to look up.

A boy peered at him from behind one of the long curtains they used to divide the room into smaller units. He was nine, small for his age and lanky, with crimson eyes some shades lighter than Velarian's own. Dark hair framed his pale face and he stepped forward, almost hesitant in the knowledge he should actually have been somewhere else.

Velarian gave his son a critical look. "Shouldn't you be training with your uncle?" The clicking of wood on wood started once more as the Symenestra turned his attention back to the loom.

By his side Davariel took a close study of floor to his feet. "I... was on the way," the boy said slowly, hands crossed behind his back and and face dark with concentration. "And... I was also nearly there..." Shyly he glanced towards the wooden shuttle in his father's hand dancing up and down threads. "...but on the market I met Sonara, she said there would be a man waiting for you. At the public meadow house."

"What man?"

His son shrugged. "Just some man. A trader."

"Hm." Velarian stopped, giving his work a considering look. He rarely had made business with merchants this season and none of them would have looked specifically for him. After a long moment he shook his head. "I will see what he wants." Putting the shuttle aside, Velarian took a sling bag from a hook at the nearby wall. Already he was about to climb the wall when he stopped a last time, eying his son. The child showed a rather pleased expression, if with himself for bringing the massage or because he thought to have distracted his father, the man could not tell. He gace his son a long look. "Davariel?

"Hm?"

"Don't forget your training."

His son sniffed, the boy one look of guilt. "Shouldn't you have finished this for auntie three days ago?," Davariel protested, nodding towards the loom, one delicate eyebrow risen.

"Training. Now."

Time had past since his last meeting at the public house and still the building looked familiar. In his youth had often found himself following his uncle and aunt around when they came to deal with traders. It had been interesting to see all the different faces, their clothing and custom. He had not understood them, but they had made him dream of the world outside. In hindsight he found, it had not always been for the best.

Entering, Velarian encountered Sonara Aconite and it was her, who led him towards the man sitting at one of the tables. A long moment the Symenestra studied the man so quietly nursing his drink. He made the impression of a stranger, new to the city and its inhabitants. Maybe his first travele to Kalinor? Velarian couldn't help but wonder if he had ever seen the man before. His face was vaguely familiar, like a face once seen in a crowed, but nothing more than that.

"I was told you have been looking for me?"