[The Bronze Wood] The Hunters Meet. (Miharu)

[Sturlin]

By the time she returned he had already prepped a large portion of the meat left behind for preservation and was laying it out for such. While he moved with care and precision, his recent work with the animals of this area had made him practiced at preparing meat. As she approached he offered a polite nod and a smile. “Mr. Pickles says thank you for the meal, Little Bird.”

His eyes noted the blood on her hands and cheek, watching her with interest as she washed what she could from her skin, and he seemed to decide then how it was she managed to kill and carry the deer meat. Reaching into his pack he pulled out a clean but worn and old cloth, holding it out to her. “I am Sturlin. You have blood on your cheek, Miharu.”

Mister Pickles purred loudly.

[Miharu Mindi]

She blinked at the offered cloth, and then took it with a rueful smile and licked it before scrubbing at her face. "Thanks," she mumbled. "I always get it everywhere, but I usually manage to get most of it off before I get dressed again." And wasn't that a nice thought - naked butchering.

She peered down at the weird little cat as she got the rest of the blood off and dried her hands with the cloth. "You're very welcome, Mister... Pickles," she said, a faint giggle tucked behind her teeth. She handed the cloth back to him, and her eyes tipped up to his face again. "Are those burns?" she asked curiously, a hand raising as if she'd touch his cheek to see what they felt like, as innocently as any child who didn't quite grasp the finer points of social interaction.

[Sturlin]

Her comment about getting dressed again wasn't entirely lost on him. He blinked, as if dazed, and then took the cloth back and nodded. “Understandable. Butchering can be a messy thing.” Tucking the cloth back into his pack he turned to his work on her recently butchered deer.

As she glanced at Mister Pickles he turned himself over onto his back while still laying in Sturlin's lap, purring loudly and cutely pawing at the air. He had always preferred women, having been adopted from a woman originally, and he was sure that by looking as cute as possible he would attract her attention. Eventually he fell still and watched her with his lamp like eyes, the tip of his tail still flicking lightly from left to right.

When she looked to the hunter's face and asked her question, he cleared his throat softly, not sure how to respond. Noticing her hand he leaned toward it slightly, without considering standard social procedure either. “Not burns. Tears and cuts, from sharp rock. Lost most of my skin by the time it was all removed from the flesh.”

[Miharu Mindi]

When he didn't jerk away, she reached out and took his chin in her right hand, tilting his face to the side so she could see the scars better. Her thumb skimmed over them, warmer than a human's should have been, as if her blood burned just a tad hotter. Her hands were smooth, too, unused to weapon or tool - she used her skinning knife, yes, but not often enough to produce blister or callous.

She explored his face with hand and eye, something both impersonal and curious about it, as if she would have turned some new gadget over in her hands the same way. "Not a fall, I don't think," she murmured, drawing a fingertip across his brow a moment, before dropping her attention down to take his left hand in hers and stare at it the same way. "Dragged, maybe? You don't have to lose so much use of this, you know," she said with a frown. She stared at his palm a moment, and then leaned over to drag her bag closer, oblivious to the work he'd been doing or the cat in his lap. She dug through it a moment, then pulled out a jar with a tight metal lid, which she removed to reveal a cream that smelled strongly of methol.

"Here," she said, scooping out a fingertip-full and screwing the lid back on, then she took his hand once more and began massaging the cream into his palm and each individual finger. "You can get this in the bazaar, there's a man who makes medicines there," she murmured, stretching out his fingers and flattening his palm. She seemed able to tell when the stretching reached the point of discomfort, and would let it relax a moment while she focused on another part, and as she rubbed the cream seemed to warm his hand beneath hers. She spent a few minutes at it, and when she was done and stretched his fingers again, they actually did seem to have a tiny bit more leeway of movement. "The skin you can always fix," she said, turning his hand over and staring it a moment before she sat back on her heels, nodding with satisfaction. "If you lose the muscles, that's different, but skin can almost always be made more flexible. Hello, Mister Pickles," she said, as if just then noticing the cat, and she wiped one hand down her thigh and then tickled his belly in just the spot she liked to be tickled when she was wearing her fur.

[Sturlin]

Against his better judgment he closed his eyes as she skimmed her thumb over his facial scars. He let her examine him in whatever detail she liked, and sighed softly as she removed her hand. His reaction to her taking his left hand was a little more reserved, but he let her do so and watched her carefully. Her ministrations soothed him quickly. Something about the feel of her fingers and the feel of the cream seemed to take the suspicion right out of him. It really did feel rather nice. When finally she released his hand he opened and closed it several times to test the feel of it. “Thank you.”

Mr. Pickles pawed at her hand when she reached out for him and mock-bit her without applying any pressure. Just as his master had done when she touched his scars, the cat melted immediately when she began to rub his belly. A deep and pleasurable purr reverberated through her fingers and the air around them as the cat went limp on his back and closed his luminous eyes.

As if suddenly reminded that he was with a stranger and she had just caressed cream into his hand, Sturlin cleared his throat in embarrassment and went back to working on the deer meat. He did continue to watch her interaction with the cat, and he smiled as he did so, but he focused the majority of his attention on the task at hand. “You are kind. I will be sure to visit the bazaar for more of that.”

[Miharu Mindi]

She didn't seem to notice his awkwardness, but then again she often did things that caused awkward scenes and remained oblivious.

She simply scooped up Mister Pickles and cradled him in her lap, leaving Sturlin to deal with the deer meat unhindered. "The cream helps, but it's not necessary. You should stretch it out as much as you can. If you keep it curled up, it'll just... stick that way," she said with a shrug, twirling the cat's tail around a finger and then gently bopping him on the nose with the end of it. "There was a hunter who worked with my father got his hand savaged by a boar. He got most of the movement back just from working at it. The massaging just loosens the muscles a bit, gets the blood flowing."

She smiled down at the silly little cat, fingers jiggling that weird hairless skin a bit just to do it, and then she glanced up to watch Sturlin. "I don't know how to cook, so I can't help you with that," she said suddenly. "I so rarely eat anything cooked. But I'm handy with wounds if you've anything else that needs tending to. I can't really smell any blood over the meat," she said thoughtfully, nostrils flaring again, "so I don't know if you've anything else. Or your horse," she added.

[Sturlin]

The cat just ate up all the attention it was getting, and it played and cuddled and wrestled with her happily.

“It's alright. I am not a good cook. I will just preserve the meat for you.” He smiled and offered a shrug. He had no real response for her advice about his hand, though he had murmured a thank you when she was done. Every now and then he paused to stretch his fingers as if testing her theory would bring immediate results. He felt a little foolish for doing so, but he was still a little distracted. Absently he wondered why he was finding it hard to focus.

“Do you live in these woods, or are you only passing through?” he asked as he set the meat aside to dry, moving on to the package that she had collected second. “

[Miharu Mindi]

"Here? Goodness, no," she chuckled, fingers still tickling the cat though her eyes were now all for Sturlin. "I'm from Taldera originally. I grew up outside of the goddess' city, but the last year I've just been sort of... wandering," she said, the smile fading a little though she didn't seem any less open. "I'm going to Falyndar soon, though. My ship leaves in a few days, and I hate the city, so I figured I'd come out here. Didn't think I'd find anyone else here, though," she chuckled. "What are you doing out here?"

[Sturlin]

"Oh..You're leaving then." He sighed softly, rather hoping that she called the woods her home. While the cat struggled with its own folds almost as much as it was struggling with Miharu's fingers Sturlin watched the two play for a moment. "I came out here looking for a place where I could live apart from others, for the most part. I'm just not made for the city." The last he added as though he were trying to defend his justification.

As he unwrapped the second package of meat and began to lay it out for treatment he cleared his throat softly. "I did not set out to find this place exactly. I have been wandering, looking for somewhere I could settle for awhile. I have only been here since winter began to fade."

[Miharu Mindi]

"These are good woods," she said, taking a long look around at the trees that surrounded the clearing. "Close to the city, but the air is clear. I understand," she said, glowing amber eyes turning back to him, her smile returning. "What you mean, about not being made for the city. I hate them, cities I mean. Too many people, too many smells. There's no room to think, and too much noise to sleep."

She realized that she liked Sturlin, felt some kinship to him, and that had her ducking her head quickly to peer back down at the cat. "I go to Falyndar to hunt," she said with a shrug. "I have heard that there are beasts there that no one but the Myrians have seen. But when I return, perhaps I will find you here again, yes? A little cottage built and Mister Pickles fat from all the game," she chuckled, picking up the cat and dangling him above her head, giggling as he reached out a paw and settled it on her nose.