[ Crowds bother her; there's a tension that coils around her body, that sinks into her and makes her spine stand as straight as a blade, as though someone has shoved a plank down the back of her dress in order to force her into a better posture. Everything about her screams the tension of who she is - of what she is - and it's as though she's a shark in the water, people moving out of her way as she edges through.
A new pouch. A new belt. A single place to put her potions and then she'll be free, free of the power of so many eyes pressing down on her, measuring her and finding her wanting.
The district is quieter than the stalls for food and for drink, than the ones for clothes, more specialised and unique. She walks through and ignores the people calling out for her, offering deals and sales and buy this, get another, knowing where she needs to go. It's easy for her to ignore the rest of the world - until she stumbles, stopping as a dog sits himself down, blinking up at her.
Lauralae's experience with animals is minimal at best and she wonders, absently, if he can tell that she's as much a wolf as he is a dog, her second shape ever present on the back of her mind. She moves, leaning down, not offering a hand for fear of what he might smell or sense in the blackened scabs of what used to be normal fingertips - instead, she smiles, ignoring the curse above her head. ]
[There's a happy little tailwag from the pile of tan fluff because of course he's handsome, and then immediately, His Majesty goes about sniffing Lauralae's offered hand. He's smelled a lot of shardbearers lately, and but this person isn't that at all. There's something there, and he tilts his head after a moment in confusion. There's something there - a big dog maybe?! - but he doesn't see anything.
But that confusion is forgotten in an instant, and he noses Lauralae's fingers gently, asking for permission to give them a good and friendly lick.
The straining on his leash finally pulls Sua out of her own deeply annoyed thoughts, and she brightens to see that her dog has found another friend. And then she realizes that he's impeding traffic, because of course His Majesty is. She claps her freehand to her face, embarrassed.]
Oh, gods below, I hope he's not being a bother to you.
[ She jerks back as soon as his little nose touches her hand, stumbling backwards and drawing her hands up to her chest, breathing hard as she reaches to run a hand along her palm. The gloves, thin things crafted from spider silk and weaved with love borne of magic, protects anyone that touches her from the magic that lies underneath (dark, black magic, crippling her and cursing her to a touch that literally burns the life from anyone that touches them) but she is still so careful, so panicked.
She can't handle being touched, her hands shaking and her eyes flickering wildly before she hears the voice, settling on Sua. It takes her a few moments to gather herself, to draw back on the image of the girl that she needed to be, the strong, outcast witch, and she drags the arms, the sleeves, of her robes down over herself to try and block her hands, her head ducking down as she tries to tug her hood lower.
She still manages to shake her head in a no, her breathing calming as she forces herself to relax, to calm down, to tame the wildness inside of her. ]
[Sua doesn't doubt that her dog wasn't being a bother, but it is damn hard to miss a reaction like that. Shaking hands, and head hidden in a hood. She's missed something, and for a beat, she looks down at His Majesty like he has the answer.
The dog gives his own approximation of a shrug, unsure himself. It doesn't stop him from wagging his tail up at Lauralae though, hoping that whatever it is, she'll move pass it in a few moments.
For her part, Sua's not entirely convinced that this something to walk away from.]
Bother are not, are you all right?
[She tilts her head slightly, certain that anything that sounds like yes of course is a big fat lie.]
[ She's careful from this point on; it would be easy to betray her weakness, to let the mistake unsettle her and leave her gasping and wanting more, but she forces herself into calm, forces herself to lift her head and look over at the stranger with a measured gaze, careful as she looks at her. She cannot let this show and yet she knows it's impossible, her fingers curling and uncurling as she shakes her head, pursing her lips and lifting her eyes back.
It's a lie, all of it, she hasn't been well in many, many years, but she doesn't care. ]
I am fine. I was startled, nothing more.
[ Which is true. She was terrified, which is a form of being startled. Her hand wipes down against her robe and she breathes out, her expression softening barely. ]
[That's a lot for startled, and Sua raises a single eyebrow to show exactly how much she really thinks that those words are true. But there's really no point in asking questions, not when it's probably a big personal thing.]
His Majesty here's always been well, save for that one time he was as sick as a dog after a very, very nasty bout of up in Briste. We still don't know what that was, but--
[Sua stops herself, before she launches into one of the long stories best suited for other sailors, rather than the general public. For his own part, her dog has decided to flop down at Lauralae's feet, great big brown eyes staring up at her.
And that would mean he's confused as to why you aren't rubbing his belly, and if you'd be willing to fix that.
[ It's no concern of Lauralae's as to what this stranger thinks of her - her only concern is herself, of course, and her expression is tight and measured, her eyes glancing here and there, up, down, careful as she watches the world around them before she shakes her head. Looking down at the dog, she feels her lips twitch - animals are easier. Simpler. ]
It seems he was quick to overcome his illnesses, then.
[ Or so she assumes. Instead, she tilts her head and looks over at Sua before she shifts, careful. Dogs are not people, she reminds herself, and even they were the magic in her hands is kept bound by the care of the gloves. All the same - ]
He seems it. Not many creatures could master sailing as well as he appears to have done.
[ Because he does look strong. Strong and brave, to say the least, seeing as he still appears to want to move closer to a woman as obviously daunting as Lauralae. Her eyes drop to her hands and she hesitates. ]
I can resist a pout. I think he must smell my... Friend.
[ Easier to lie about owning a wolf than being one. ]
He's better at keeping tabs on my crew than I am some days. I'm not sure how I feel about that, knowing he could usurp me at anytime, but at least they'd be in good paws.
[There's a sad little whine from His Majesty up at Lauralae, and the constant tail wag finally comes to a stop.]
Your friend must've given you that ability to resist a pout. I wish I was made of that level of sternness. Hardly useful in some situations.
Although it occurs to me, I haven't seen your face around these parts before. Are you new to Treun, or only passing through?
Less that, more making sure that they're doing okay during downtime. He can spot that someone's upset and keeping to themselves better than most, and my crew trusts him if they need to talk.
[Sua shakes her head at that whine, not surprised that it's escaped, and clearly impressed at the resistance.]
Oh, gods below, no wonder I thought you were unfamiliar! All those years up north, and I'm never in the area due to work. If this is your first time here, I'm going to guess it's your first time in the market district as well, right?
[ It seems the best word to use, and she's careful as she continues, on edge and particular about the way the conversation is going. ]
I travelled South with a friend to visit the lands ruled by an ally of his. I spent more time on the outskirts of the city and forests than in markets such as this. [ As if that wasn't obvious. ] I am not used to crowds like these.
[The word choice doesn't bother Sua at all, and her agreement is all too cheerful to ignore the pause to consider word choice.]
Oh, gods below, you're in the wrong part of the market to avoid crowds then. Especially around now, when people are starting to worm their way out of that weird March cold snap and into spring proper!
[ Her eyes flicker around, taking in the people bustling around, leaning over and talking loudly, peeking through and staring at things even as Lauralae curls in around herself. All she can do is breath out. ]
I had no other place to stop. I needed merchandise and we will be travelling through woods and in silence.
[The discomfort radiating off Lauralae is all too easy to read. The market's the worst place in the Drabwurld to come to if you're not used to crowds, but--
Sua's face brightens suddenly.]
I've been coming here for over half my life, and I know the way the crowds shift. If you can give me five minutes, I can tell you where to go at what time to avoid the worst of stuff. Make it a little easier on yourself, you know?
[ She would be more wary, she thinks, if there was any sense of shard from this woman, but she feels safer in the knowledge that the stranger and her dog are as part of this world as Lauralae herself knows herself to be. She doesn't trust Shardbearers themselves and wants nothing more than to use them, to take advantage of their magics. ]
I am not sure when I would ever return to this place, however.
[Sua's not sure who Iorveth is - a traveling companion, probably - but she rolls with it. There's a light tug on His Majesty's leash, coupled with a get up, you lazy fluff pile. A whine responds as the dog rolls onto his feet, and is lead into a little side alley as promised.
Once there, stepping over some deposited wares from the nearest stall - looks like storage space is at a premium - Sua leans back against the sand stone coloured brick.]
Lucky for you, I had to draw a map of this place up for two of my new crew members who weren't familiar with the area.
[Fishing into the pocket of her deep, dark blue coat, Sua reveals a scrap of parchment with a hastily drawn diagram of the market place. It's divided into a few sections, and the neatness of the handwriting contrasts with the quick linemarks of the map.]
You can think of the crowds in this place as something that revolves around the time of day. The food areas-- [she points to the furthest point up on the map] get slammed when the markets open, and into the lunch hour. People will fight each other for the best deals, and the food vendors need to make a quick profit before crowds thin. Usually around mid-afternoon, things lessen up. From there, the two sections closest to the food area - this one we're standing in and the chunk of space devoted to spices - get the overflow. They'll thin out in about oh, two hours? Three if it's a crowded day? Which leaves everything on the opposite side of the market like furniture, small travel goods, weapons, and magic related goods quite empty.
[ It's easy to follow, lifting the hem of her robes as she steps over the wares, leaning to let her eyes flicker over the map and take it in. She had expected crowds, of course, she would be a fool to think otherwise, but she hadn't imagined so many. The sheer mass of people that crowd around the stalls had been too much and there was too much danger to transform into a wolf - she would have been slaughtered before she'd found peace.
Her finger, still gloved in black, traces the line before she nods. ]
I left my companion to hunt his own items this morning - I did not think it would take so long for me to find the bare few things I required before we turned to Redgate. It seems I was wrong on that account.
[ She turns her head, hood slipping down a little around her face as she gazes out at the crowd - it's enough to show one ear, a mangled, scarred mess from where she had taken a knife to it in her youth, drawn her blade and slashed through. She turns back to Sua, barely aware of the slip of the fabric. ]
Well, it isn't like you could have predicted this. Unless you really need to haul ass to Redgate though, I think you'll be all right.
[Sua doesn't put the map down, but her eyes do catch the scarred ear. Her eyebrows lift slightly, but it's clear that the injury's old. Long healed. Not something to be discussed or asked after, if the reliance on the hood is any hint at all.]
If you've got stuff to take care of on the other side, I'd do that now, and then finish up here. Best bet, I'd think, but I don't have your shopping list.
No. We have time, yet, and our journey is not so important that we must rush. Redgate is not so close that a day or two would destroy our venture, either.
[ Her lips are turned down in a scowl, her eyes skimming the crowds again. Her ire is obvious, as is her distaste for people, but especially human. Even as she turns back to the other woman her expression is hardly kind; she's frustrated and on edge with the situation, of being held back by her own nature. ]
I only need some pouches, some storage for my vials. It should not take me long, surely.
The stall you caught me in front of is my usual leather maker. My family's used hers for decades. If you wait with me, it'd be possible to catch her when she comes back from her unusually late lunch, get you set up first, and then you'd be quite done.
Or, if you really need to step out, give me the specifications you need and I can drop it off for you at a designated spot of your choosing.
[ She frowns, tilting her head, almost like a lost child. A family; the idea is particularly novel to her and she has to ignore the pang it causes her, instead focusing on the offer. ]
What would you ask for in return for your kindness?
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A new pouch. A new belt. A single place to put her potions and then she'll be free, free of the power of so many eyes pressing down on her, measuring her and finding her wanting.
The district is quieter than the stalls for food and for drink, than the ones for clothes, more specialised and unique. She walks through and ignores the people calling out for her, offering deals and sales and buy this, get another, knowing where she needs to go. It's easy for her to ignore the rest of the world - until she stumbles, stopping as a dog sits himself down, blinking up at her.
Lauralae's experience with animals is minimal at best and she wonders, absently, if he can tell that she's as much a wolf as he is a dog, her second shape ever present on the back of her mind. She moves, leaning down, not offering a hand for fear of what he might smell or sense in the blackened scabs of what used to be normal fingertips - instead, she smiles, ignoring the curse above her head. ]
Handsome, aren't you?
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But that confusion is forgotten in an instant, and he noses Lauralae's fingers gently, asking for permission to give them a good and friendly lick.
The straining on his leash finally pulls Sua out of her own deeply annoyed thoughts, and she brightens to see that her dog has found another friend. And then she realizes that he's impeding traffic, because of course His Majesty is. She claps her freehand to her face, embarrassed.]
Oh, gods below, I hope he's not being a bother to you.
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She can't handle being touched, her hands shaking and her eyes flickering wildly before she hears the voice, settling on Sua. It takes her a few moments to gather herself, to draw back on the image of the girl that she needed to be, the strong, outcast witch, and she drags the arms, the sleeves, of her robes down over herself to try and block her hands, her head ducking down as she tries to tug her hood lower.
She still manages to shake her head in a no, her breathing calming as she forces herself to relax, to calm down, to tame the wildness inside of her. ]
No. He was no bother, not to me.
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The dog gives his own approximation of a shrug, unsure himself. It doesn't stop him from wagging his tail up at Lauralae though, hoping that whatever it is, she'll move pass it in a few moments.
For her part, Sua's not entirely convinced that this something to walk away from.]
Bother are not, are you all right?
[She tilts her head slightly, certain that anything that sounds like yes of course is a big fat lie.]
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It's a lie, all of it, she hasn't been well in many, many years, but she doesn't care. ]
I am fine. I was startled, nothing more.
[ Which is true. She was terrified, which is a form of being startled. Her hand wipes down against her robe and she breathes out, her expression softening barely. ]
I hope he is well.
[ She nods at the hound. ]
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His Majesty here's always been well, save for that one time he was as sick as a dog after a very, very nasty bout of up in Briste. We still don't know what that was, but--
[Sua stops herself, before she launches into one of the long stories best suited for other sailors, rather than the general public. For his own part, her dog has decided to flop down at Lauralae's feet, great big brown eyes staring up at her.
And that would mean he's confused as to why you aren't rubbing his belly, and if you'd be willing to fix that.
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It seems he was quick to overcome his illnesses, then.
[ Or so she assumes. Instead, she tilts her head and looks over at Sua before she shifts, careful. Dogs are not people, she reminds herself, and even they were the magic in her hands is kept bound by the care of the gloves. All the same - ]
I do not think he would appreciate my touch.
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[There's a glow of pride in Sua's words, and she gives the dog a fond nudge with her boot. A lazy paw responds, resting atop it.]
Your call on that then, but he'll start pouting up at you in about, oh, two, three minutes tops if you stick around.
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[ Because he does look strong. Strong and brave, to say the least, seeing as he still appears to want to move closer to a woman as obviously daunting as Lauralae. Her eyes drop to her hands and she hesitates. ]
I can resist a pout. I think he must smell my... Friend.
[ Easier to lie about owning a wolf than being one. ]
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[There's a sad little whine from His Majesty up at Lauralae, and the constant tail wag finally comes to a stop.]
Your friend must've given you that ability to resist a pout. I wish I was made of that level of sternness. Hardly useful in some situations.
Although it occurs to me, I haven't seen your face around these parts before. Are you new to Treun, or only passing through?
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[ There's a small smile tugging at her lips, now, even as she resists the whine. ]
I have been well trained to resist all manner of petulance and beggery. [ Mayr had taught her that, as had her own foolishness.
She pauses, though, before she speaks, worried that her reputation as a witch would betray her even here. ]
I am not from Treun. I have spent most of my years in Nimh Gleanne.
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[Sua shakes her head at that whine, not surprised that it's escaped, and clearly impressed at the resistance.]
Oh, gods below, no wonder I thought you were unfamiliar! All those years up north, and I'm never in the area due to work. If this is your first time here, I'm going to guess it's your first time in the market district as well, right?
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[ It seems the best word to use, and she's careful as she continues, on edge and particular about the way the conversation is going. ]
I travelled South with a friend to visit the lands ruled by an ally of his. I spent more time on the outskirts of the city and forests than in markets such as this. [ As if that wasn't obvious. ] I am not used to crowds like these.
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[The word choice doesn't bother Sua at all, and her agreement is all too cheerful to ignore the pause to consider word choice.]
Oh, gods below, you're in the wrong part of the market to avoid crowds then. Especially around now, when people are starting to worm their way out of that weird March cold snap and into spring proper!
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[ Her eyes flicker around, taking in the people bustling around, leaning over and talking loudly, peeking through and staring at things even as Lauralae curls in around herself. All she can do is breath out. ]
I had no other place to stop. I needed merchandise and we will be travelling through woods and in silence.
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Sua's face brightens suddenly.]
I've been coming here for over half my life, and I know the way the crowds shift. If you can give me five minutes, I can tell you where to go at what time to avoid the worst of stuff. Make it a little easier on yourself, you know?
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[ She would be more wary, she thinks, if there was any sense of shard from this woman, but she feels safer in the knowledge that the stranger and her dog are as part of this world as Lauralae herself knows herself to be. She doesn't trust Shardbearers themselves and wants nothing more than to use them, to take advantage of their magics. ]
I am not sure when I would ever return to this place, however.
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[Sua beams, all too bright.]
There's a side ally like, three paces away, and I have no qualms doing an aside given my leather maker's apparently out to lunch. Still.
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Next time I will make Iorveth do it.
[ But she does nod, stepping closer and out of the line of the people bustling around. ]
The ally, then.
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Once there, stepping over some deposited wares from the nearest stall - looks like storage space is at a premium - Sua leans back against the sand stone coloured brick.]
Lucky for you, I had to draw a map of this place up for two of my new crew members who weren't familiar with the area.
[Fishing into the pocket of her deep, dark blue coat, Sua reveals a scrap of parchment with a hastily drawn diagram of the market place. It's divided into a few sections, and the neatness of the handwriting contrasts with the quick linemarks of the map.]
You can think of the crowds in this place as something that revolves around the time of day. The food areas-- [she points to the furthest point up on the map] get slammed when the markets open, and into the lunch hour. People will fight each other for the best deals, and the food vendors need to make a quick profit before crowds thin. Usually around mid-afternoon, things lessen up. From there, the two sections closest to the food area - this one we're standing in and the chunk of space devoted to spices - get the overflow. They'll thin out in about oh, two hours? Three if it's a crowded day? Which leaves everything on the opposite side of the market like furniture, small travel goods, weapons, and magic related goods quite empty.
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Her finger, still gloved in black, traces the line before she nods. ]
I left my companion to hunt his own items this morning - I did not think it would take so long for me to find the bare few things I required before we turned to Redgate. It seems I was wrong on that account.
[ She turns her head, hood slipping down a little around her face as she gazes out at the crowd - it's enough to show one ear, a mangled, scarred mess from where she had taken a knife to it in her youth, drawn her blade and slashed through. She turns back to Sua, barely aware of the slip of the fabric. ]
I should wait, then, for them to pass?
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[Sua doesn't put the map down, but her eyes do catch the scarred ear. Her eyebrows lift slightly, but it's clear that the injury's old. Long healed. Not something to be discussed or asked after, if the reliance on the hood is any hint at all.]
If you've got stuff to take care of on the other side, I'd do that now, and then finish up here. Best bet, I'd think, but I don't have your shopping list.
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[ Her lips are turned down in a scowl, her eyes skimming the crowds again. Her ire is obvious, as is her distaste for people, but especially human. Even as she turns back to the other woman her expression is hardly kind; she's frustrated and on edge with the situation, of being held back by her own nature. ]
I only need some pouches, some storage for my vials. It should not take me long, surely.
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[Sua taps her chin, thoughtful.]
The stall you caught me in front of is my usual leather maker. My family's used hers for decades. If you wait with me, it'd be possible to catch her when she comes back from her unusually late lunch, get you set up first, and then you'd be quite done.
Or, if you really need to step out, give me the specifications you need and I can drop it off for you at a designated spot of your choosing.
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[ She frowns, tilting her head, almost like a lost child. A family; the idea is particularly novel to her and she has to ignore the pang it causes her, instead focusing on the offer. ]
What would you ask for in return for your kindness?
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