"The Hunt Begins" Log Date: 12/2/00 Log Cast: Faanshi, Mehul Log Intro: As of late Faanshi's life has settled down at least a little -- if one can call a life full of quiet mourning, the much unexpected friendship of a kshatri seeress and the equally unexpected support of the Warlord who has made her his ward, a shift from student to teacher in the healing arts, and the attentions of a tempestous-natured Mongrel gladiator _settled_. Little does the young halfbreed realize that her life is about to acquire a new complication... and that for some time now, she has been watched by a canny hunter who plots to use her for nefarious ends, all unknowing _himself_ about the innocent nature of the shudra maiden he is about to try to ensnare.... *===========================< In Character Time >===========================* Time of day: Afternoon Date on Aether: Tuesday, June 26, 3907. Year on Earth: 1507 A.D. Phase of the Moon: Full Season: Summer Weather: Clouds Temperature: Comfortable *==========================================================================* Garden Archway - Old City Garden - Haven The occasional foliage that lines the streets of Haven grows more expansive here, trees looming higher as one approaches the town garden. The road continuing east seems little more than a ruined path, the cobbles having been long since warped and broken by the bulge of tree roots beneath them. Crumbling stone benches are occasionally occupied by the elderly in a state of repose, quietly murmuring couples, or even trodden upon by children at play. A massive arch of stone marks the entrance to the garden proper; its detailed engravings have either crumbled away or have been concealed by the growth of vines and ivy--a subtle triumph of nature over the man-made structure. Contents: Mehul Kosha Obvious exits: Streets Town Garden A hot summer is not really the best of times to be wearing a good deal of black -- but as with many other things in her life, Faanshi bears her choice of colors of clothing without complaint. But on the other hand, she is not necessarily inclined toward _needless_ suffering, and so on this summer afternoon, in between a morning visit to an _extremely_ pregnant young mother-to-be and a planned early evening visit to a family whose father had managed to drop a heavy chest on his foot, the young halfbreed healer takes a shortcut through the old city garden. It's cooler here, with layers of green shade casting shadows along the buckled cobbled path and the glare of sunshine blessedly muted. Fascinated by the smells here, Kosha rambles back and forth across the path while Faanshi trudges towards one of the benches, thinking to sit down. Just for a few moments. And because she is alone, she lets herself take the liberty of lifting her gaze to the soothing canopy of the leaves, uncharacteristic serene pleasure softening her eyes. She isn't alone however, though this Varati figure, at first, might not be the most noticable, even with his rather colorful clothing. Perhaps he is Kshatri? But either way.... he just seems to blend in to his surroundings, naturaly. His shirt is off at the moment, discarded to the grass beside him, and his back is to the approaching woman and dog. He does know they are there, but makes no motion of it, instead continuing with what he had done upon their arrival... There are four wounds across his back, parrallel lines drawn diagonaly from shoulder, down and to the left, an animal claw most likely, and he... fumbles with some bandages, attempting to cover the injuries and secure the wrappings about his bare... and a good deal more than quite impressive form. He's having a miserable time with it. All is going according to plan, and Mehul is ready. It's debatable who notices the wounded man first -- Kosha, who catches his scent, or Faanshi, whose magical senses begin to stir in alert as soon as she draws near enough. A small throaty whurf escapes the dog even as the maiden's gaze snaps up, attention seized. Her hand shoots up to where her mouth must be behind her veil, stifling a gasp... and then she is in motion again, stepping forward as swiftly as she dares. "Imphadi...?" comes her voice, soft and shy but audibly worried. Her gaze stays pointed downward, though not enough that she cannot move with speed and an unconscious grace. "I humbly beg your pardon... but do you require assistance...?" At her side, the dog comes trotting over, ears perked up alertly. Charcoal eyes churn and swirl, set alight by an invisible fire which illuminates their darkness in a disturbing sheen. But it's gone as he turns, startled, he pretends to be, to face her, brows lifting and a wince drawing over his features from the strain of movement and the tug on the wounded skin. He's quite handsome... "Ah..." The first word he speaks is accompanied by a sharp inhalation of air to stifle another surge of pain. "No... I should be, fine. Thank you. They're just some small scratches." He tries to force a smile to his lips, failing more than a little, even though they do tug upwards toward his eyes. He's crossleged on the grass, and some of it, behind him, is stained slightly red, as is the discarded shirt at his side. The dog is acknowledged pleasently, with a built in familiarity. He knows animals. Masterfully controlled though it might be, Faanshi nevertheless is quite sensitive to the pain the man on the grass is experiencing. Her sungolden brow crinkles; one hand lifts involuntarily, as though she might be testing the warmth of a fire on a hearth, or perhaps shielding herself from too great a heat. Force of habit and training sternly advise that if a man has refused her help, her help is therefore not necessary, but still... "I am a healer, Imphadi," she murmurs, gaze still bashfully lowered, though this only means that a man who sits upon the grass is still well within her line of sight. It is therefore all she can do to avoid catching his gaze directly. "I can mend those wounds, if you wish...?" Kosha, for his part, cranes his head forward to sniff critically at this stranger. No sign of threat in his body language or scent, and therefore, the hound is entirely at ease thus far, giving in to natural curiosity. For what might seem to be quite some time, the Varati man merely sits still as stone upon the breezeblown grass, staring at this female in aparent contemplation, deciding whether or not to accept her aid or to deny it. His eyes travel, once or twice, from her to the impressive animal that accompanies her, and at long last... he smiles at her weakly, inclinging his head. "I would greatly appreciate that, thank you." and using his hands to support him, Mehul leans his body forward, baring his back and the open wounds to her, still staring at the dog, from his bent position, with a pleasent expression upon his well defined, and handsome features. "It is my duty and honor, Imphadi," the maiden murmurs. Given leave to do so, she quickly kneels next to the injured man, bringing delicate hands to come to rest upon his upper back. It doesn't take much contact; for Faanshi, skin to skin at her fingertips is just enough to give a channel through which the aether can flow. Her eyes close as her power swells forth, already roused up by the impact of pain upon her consciousness. And it courses out into dark muscled flesh, seeking not only the rents within it and bidding it cleanly mend, but also purifying away even trace beginnings of infection. Like dew beneath a rising sun, pain dissolves away in the wake of the halfbreed's power. Mehul actually swallows quite hard at the sensation of that healing magic flowing through him, and he shivers. That wasn't part of the plan... but what can he do to stop it? His muscles tense as little and then relax beneath her touch as his wounds are mended and cleaned and his eyes too close, his back arching slightly beneath her. When she's concluded, he lets out one... long... and slow deep breath, murmuring a quiet, "Thank you..." as he slowly turns to her once more. It's taken a few minutes... but only a few. There seems to be a great deal of power in Faanshi's dainty hands, and the closing of those wounds has barely seemed to impact her strength; her breathing has turned a little hoarse, and her voice a trifle softer as she rasps, "It is my duty and honor..." This appears to be her way of saying 'you're welcome', but then again, Faanshi also follows it up with, "You are welcome, Imphadi...!" She inclines her black-saried head a single time and draws her hands swiftly away. It occurs to her only belatedly that this man's upper body is bared to the sunlight, only now that she has healed his injuries, and her gaze remains demurely averted while her cheeks go heated beneath her veil. Perfect. His body is tested... and yes... he is indeed bare above the waist, his impressive chest and back exposed to complimenting sunlight which outlines almost perfectly his well toned and muscles physique and sends a golden aura about his darkened, chocolate skin. His shoulders roll, and he appears surprised to the fact that there is no pain, smiling quite broadly a moment later and standing, giving a nod to the dog at her side. "What is your name?" he asks, facing her completely now, his fallen garment forgotten. Though she knows that some Mongrels in Haven can be as dark as the People of Fire, it seems to Faanshi that this man can only be Varati. Why she decides this she cannot necessarily consciously decide; the easy confidence of him, perhaps, that speaks to her of a man of the kshatri. She is still kneeling, her head humbly bowed, as she would before any man of the warrior caste -- and besides, it is unseemly to gaze upon a man without his shirt. "Faanshi, Imphadi," is her softly uttered reply. It's then that a soft and sympathetic chuckle echos from within the throat of the man, and his face lights. "Please," he says, reaching out a hand to simply make the motion of drawing her gaze up to his, not touching her... yet... "Don't bow to me like that..." He appears almost uncomfortable now that laugh nervous despite it's obvious mirth. "Faanshi... thats a pretty name." Only a brief pause, not long enough for her to think over his compliment, "Thank you Faanshi, I greatly appreciate your help." and this tiem he bends to her, inclinging his head and closing hise yes briefly. Not entirely certain if this means she should look up or _get_ up, Faanshi tentatively opts for the latter, straightening her black-saried form and steadying the basket hooked over her left forearm. Nor is she entirely certain what to say to a second, effusively offered thanks. "You were wounded," she explains earnestly, a little baffled-sounding, as if this is reason enough that she should have stopped to assist him. "But you will be fine now, Imphadi... y-you will want to have a good meal, to build up your strength anew...!" In the meantime, Kosha appears to decide that this stranger is acceptable enough, and he wags his tail a few times, experimentally. That wagging of the tail draws quite the smile form Mehul and the man tilts his head at the animal, offering a hand extended outward toward the beast, an appreciative and respectful hand for the creatures prowess, strength, and curiosity. He knows animals. "Perhaps you would be inclined to join me then?" he asks, his gaze returning to her, eyes peeking from the corners as he rounds. "It is the least I could do to show my appreciation." His voice is kind, gentle, and sympathetic to her confusion and baffled stammering, ignoring the imperfections in her speech and continuing on as though they were non-existant. He does seem a bit more steady now that she has stood and is finally looking at him too. Kosha's sizeable muzzle comes forward enough to inspect those offered fingers, sniff sniff sniff, no smell of threat, no strange overtone of animal, as some of those his beloved mistress encounters occasionally has. Once he has taken enough time to acquaint himself with the Varati man's scent, the dog moves on to his next step in making any few friend: bumping those fingers with his head expectantly. You. Hey, you with the fingers! Make with the skitching! "Y-you need not -- I mean, I need no compensation..." Blushing anew, the healer isn't exactly looking directly _at_ him, mind you, but still there are periodic glimpses of the green eyes above her ebon veil, profoundly shy, furtive and unsure. "Please? I would much wish to show you my gratitude somehow. He chuckles at the dog, a frienly critter it is. He makes no comment of it though, nore does he appear to be overwhelmed with the presence of the animal, he just akcnowledges it and gives it the gentle and sure attention it deserves while remaining focused on Faanshi. Those hands do as they are instructed, sliding... gliding rather over the animals fur, to the top of its head, pausing there to scratch lightly, figners parting on either side to run behind the ears and treat those spots to the same manner. Every now and again a soft and affectionate glance is thrown to Kosha, but most of the time, as they are right now, the Varati's dark eyes remain on the female in front of him. "Please, Faanshi?" he tries one last time, his tone open and friendly. Please. As a particular Mongrel of Faanshi's acquaintance has recently learned, a suitably earnestly delivered 'please' is an effective way to weaken the shudra girl's resolve. From that Mongrel, an inviting 'please' was potent; from a Varati, however, it is doubly so. She cannot remember a single Varati man who has ever _asked_ her for anything, and now, flustered, Faanshi involuntarily looks up. "I... perhaps... I could go to the Rialto with you, before I must go to visit the family I meant to see this evening... if you wish it, Imphadi..." "I would almost have to insist..." is the Varati's reply as an even broader smile appears upon his features at her acceptance of his proposal. The dog is now held under its chin, back further toward its throat where his figners work and scratch the animal gently, yet firmly. He stops quite suddenly though, clearing his throat and lowering his eyes. "Mehul..." he says, embarassed both in tone and gesture, "My name is Mehul, by the way. A pleasure to meet you, Faanshi." How easily he forgot his manners! But now his head lifts again to her with a more tentative, but just as sincere expression. "Shall we go?" His eyes move to the dog, as if posing the question to it as well. Given the honor of the Imphadi's name, the maiden clasps her hands at her breast and bows slightly over them, saying solemnly, "I am honored to make your acquaintance, Imphadi Mehul..." She trails off, though, for the Imphadi is still rather... shirtless... and Faanshi keeps her gaze shyly lowered. Kosha's version of an answer is several more wags of the tail -- for the stranger has certainly passed the Skitch Kosha's Head Test -- and a trot back to Faanshi's side, at a beckon of her slender hand. Another clearing of his throat and Mehul bows his head, once more embarassed, even going so far as to color a little! He leans down all but immediately, picking up his shirt and pulling it over his head, muttering a muffled and almost mute apology for his indecency. That... and the fact that she's bowing to him again. How that makes hims uncomfortable! "That fine animal may accompany us too of course," he says with a smile, attempting to lighten and deter the subject, "and have a bite to eat as well." If Faanshi notices the discomfort she is causing, she gives no sign of it; it is, after all, difficult to notice the consternation in the chocolate visage regarding her, when she is spending most of her time looking down. "Kosha eats a great deal," the shudra murmurs sheepishly, "and he is a shameless beggar..." "Kosha, hmm?" He looks to the animal as the name is menchined and tested upon his own lips and tounge, scratching his chin and nodding his approval. "Shall we go then? Our stomach's arn't getting any fuller." He wishes she would look up at him... his voice is friendly, inviting and warm, bidding her to do so, that she has nothing to fear. But all he can do is try and he dare not touch her yet. "As you wish, Imphadi Mehul," is Faanshi's soft response, delivered with a humble bob of her black-swathed head. From somewhere behind the girl's ebon veil a soft whistle sounds, coaxing the dog to fall into step behind her. With that, then, Faanshi begins to walk... though slowly, perhaps expecting the man to precede her. Precede her? Hardly. Mehul falls in right beside her, keeping the dog between them so as not to intrude in to her personal space and to show her that he respects her presence and wants her to feel secure with him, that she can trust him. Her constant, Kosha, is between this new stranger. "Please..." he murmurs quietly, embarassment carrying a little through the tone as he smiles at her, "Just call me Mehul... you don't need the Imphadi... and... you don't have to bow. Please." Rare indeed is a Varati man who encourages her to step above her place -- rare enough that Faanshi cannot help but pause a moment, peeking in bemusement sideways as she and the dog accompany their newfound companion eastward towards the Rialto. "As you wish, but... you... you _are_ Varati?" The maiden's sungolden brow crinkles beneath the edge of her sari. Perhaps her initial impression was incorrect? Mehul gives a bit of a start, pausing with her and staring at her with an almost comical expression saying nothing until a moment later he laughs, lightly, but laughs, certainly not /at/ her however. "Yes, yes, I am Varati." he answers, presenting her with that same, assuring and broad smile that does nothing but encourage her openness and friendship. "Tell me." he continues, his laugh subsiding as he shifts his gaze ahead of them, "What would you wish to eat?" All right... Varati... but does not wish her to bow to him, or call him Imphadi. The concept seems to be a difficult one for Faanshi to digest, and furthermore, he is even asking her opinion! On something trivial, granted, but still. "I... am not choosy," she answers, catching herself just in time from uttering the automatic honorific. "Kosha likes most meats..." At the sound of his name, Kosha's tail wags in punctuation. FOOD! Food for KOSHA! The trio enter the busy crowds of the Rialto, the milling and shouting people, the comotion that to those who have been here logn enough has faded and dulled to a dull roar that is normal background noise. Without aim, Mehul leads them up to a random food vendor, but one who has places where people might sit and enjoy their meal, pursing his lips and furrowing his brows as he makes an attempt to decide what to eat. "You may go ahead." he says to Faanshi, motioning. Again there's that momentary pause, that furtive peek of summer-green eyes above the maiden's veil, as though she cannot quite believe that it is a Varati man showing her such courtesy. It is quite obvious that Faanshi is unused to such mannerly treatment, and only after she rouses out of that fleeting confusion does she manage to murmur a thank-you and step forward to request of the fellow preparing the meat pies to be permitted two, one for herself and one for her dog. A few meager coins are produced from the maiden's basket, just enough to cover the price of the victuals. Does Faanshi treat _all_ men with this humility and shyness she has shown Mehul? The Mongrel food vendor certainly seems to qualify for it, for she never raises her eyes to him. Nor does she raise her voice; it's very easy to almost lose track of what she has to say over the noise of the market. Kosha by contrast is the embodiment of eagerness, ears up and tail a-wag, even as he is presented with his share of the afternoon snack. Those coins never reach the vendor though, Mehul stops them before the man is able to take them, shaking his head. "No, no, no. This is my treat. Here you go sir." he says to the vendor, reaching down in to a pouch at his side and pulling out a few coins, enough for four of those pies and two drinks, one beverage for each human as well as food, and two of the latter for the dog. "He does eat alot after all you said, hmm?" Then with a little bit of a grin, he nods over toward the nearest table. "I... all right... a-as you wish..." This soft murmur of surprise is almost overwhelmed by Kosha bouncing about in anticipation. Yes, FOOD! Food for KOSHA! Between the inviting dark gaze upon her and the unabashed hopefulness of her hound, what can Faanshi do but let herself be convinced to go and sit? "Thank you, Im... Mehul," she manages to blurt. "You are most kind...!" "Please..." Mehul says almost embarassedly, pulling out a chair for his female companion to sit in, pushing it back in when she has before walking over to his own chair and taking a seat. "You, Faanshi, are the kind one. You may have saved my life today." And exageration... but who's to complain? Certainly not her, because he doesn't give her the time, setting down the two extra pies down on to the floor, "Here you go Kosha," he says to the animal happily, chuckling softly at it. Beginning to look rather overwhelmed, veil or no veil, Faanshi sinks a trifle dazedly into the seat her companion has pulled forth. Before her is a mug of kaffe and a meat pie, but she seems to include those in a general stare of wide-eyed bafflement; for a moment or two, her gaze even manages to take in the darkly handsome countenance of Mehul as he claims his life might have been saved. While Kosha eagerly begins to gulp down his pies, tearing the first of them to shreds, the maiden modestly protests, "Any healer in the city could have helped..." "That may be. But any healer didn't," Mehul contests, finally lifting his gaze from the devouring animal toward the female Varati that is seated across from him. "Thank you again Faanshi. Please," he insists, nodding toward her untouched food, "eat." He caught her lingering glimpse of his features, and it only caused a brighter smile on his face. Eat... yes. So flustered has this strange Varati left her that only now does the maiden seem to realize that consumption of food, out here in the Rialto, means she'll have to eat with great care and delicacy if she does not intend to remove her veil. And since that is not an option, she instead opts to rummage once more into her basket, producing a tiny eating knife. "You are welcome," she shyly answers, before dropping her eyes closed for a moment and sketching a sigil across her breast, a symbol of the rising sun, Holy Ushas. Only when this is done does she allow herself to begin to daintily dissect the meat pie, consuming it only in miniscule bits that can easily be slipped under the ebon veil. That sigil is noted, and the smile again grows slightly at it. He makes no comment on it however, not judging or applauding, or what have you. Mehul sumply observes before nodding to her again and beginning to eat his own pie, also slowly, though not so as her. "How is it?" he asks between bites, making sure he has completely swallowed first. "It will sustain me," says Faanshi, apparently in utmost earnest, as though this is all she asks of food.... or perhaps all she _knows_ to ask of food. After a moment's thought, however, she does append, "It is hot... and filling!" Kosha's vote makes an eager doggie echo of his mistress'; he's already inhaled his first pie and is greedily commencing the second. Another chuckle for the dog, louder this time and a broad smile for Faanshi, "Well then," Mehul begins, a little over halfway through his meal, "Would you care for anything else to go with it? Please don't hesitate to ask." He is quite sincere and /very/ appreciative of what she did for him. "I'm certain Kosha here would like seconds." He then grins down at the animal, "Or would that be thirds for you, hmm?" With her little eating knife posed for a moment under her veil, Faanshi looks up again in shock; it seems that the way to get her to look up most often is to startle her. "Imphadi -- I-I mean, Mehul -- you need not, truly, this is enough... my needs are small... I-I am but a shudra...!" Mehul looks at her as though she just said something perplexing or completely rediculous, the mention of caste as a matter of treatment. How could she even think something like that? "Don't be shy," he says at last, nodding toh er, his smile restored. "I only wish to repay you for your deed." He starts to back off a touch though. Faanshi's gaze ducks downward again, while she fidgets with the little eating knife, her fingers tremulous and broadcasting her evident nervousness at such genteel manners directed at _her_. But perhaps because Mehul has modulated his charm down just a touch, she finds the courage to humbly reply, "It is well... the holy surah of Respect does advise..." Up comes her gaze, a glimmer of sunshine through full summer leaves, and bearing a sincerity as deep and heartfelt as her sari is black. "But you are well... Kosha's belly will be full, a-and mine... you have honored me with your thanks...! I-I need nothing else...!" "If you insist then." Mehul concedes, inclining his head, but never taking his eyes off of her, looking down to Kosha briefly ith a sympathetic apology of a smile. "Well then. Might I at least escort you where it is you need to go? There, I promise I will bother you no more." It's meant as a jest, and the slight grin and chuckle anounce that. Just as daintily done are Faanshi's furtive sips of the kaffe in her mug, done with one hand lifting the veil out of the way, the other cradling the mug within her fingers. "If you wish," she whispers, though her eyes go a little wide with renewed disbelief. "I am going to visit... Mongrels..." This last is uttered as if she almost expects to be chastised, or at the very least to receive a stern glare of disapproval. Kosha wags his tail, however, licking his chops for the last few tasty remnants of his meal. He smiles and nods, "Excellent, thank you." He makes no comment one way or the other as to her visiting Mongrels. Nor does his face show neither approval or disapproval at the fact. He remains silent, only appreciative of her and her animal. He really does love that dog. His drink and pie are both gone and he is ready, sitting back and folding his hands atop the table, simply studying Faanshi as she finishes. Aware of that dark scrutiny -- even though she tries to keep her gaze modestly lowered -- the shudra maiden applies herself to finishing off the rest of her own share of the meal. Sungolden hands flutter like small delicate birds, alternating between kaffe and pie, slipping each in small quantities beneath the smoky veil that keeps most of her face concealed from view. It does not take her long; she does not dawdle over the food, not when she has been reminded that she does have duties that await. And besides... the stranger, the Imphadi Mehul... why does he keep staring at her so? At last, though, she finds her appetite going strange, her nervousness filtering into that as well. "Kosha," she murmurs, "here..." The last few bites of her pie she slips to the dog, freeing her hands to gather her small store of possessions. And she rises, uneasy, the small dove perhaps about to take flight... if she is not sufficiently soothed. Her anxiety is noticed and it brings a bit of a contemplative frown to Mehul's face. He stands though, bowing his head. "Thank you for allowing my to treat you to this. I very much enjoyed it. Mayhaps we will see eachother again sometime, hmm?" He wont insist on following her if he is making her uncomfortable, best to leave on a positive note than a negative one. He lingers though, incase she decides to remind him or such. Gesturing tinily off towards the northwest -- towards Bordertown -- the maiden bashfully notes, "The family I-I go to see... they live in Bordertown... if you wish to walk..." He enjoyed eating with her? She can't imagine _why_... and he keeps _looking_ at her. "I am honored by your appreciation... and company...!" "If you're certain I wouldn't be imposing," Mehul raises his hands between himself and her. "But I would very much like to accompany you, if you wish." He too offers up a bashful smile as he takes a step to join here where she may be heading, nodding to her lightly. A Varati man has expressed a wish to accompany her as she walks; therefore, in the world according to Faanshi, it is not her place to tell him no. "You... said that you wished to escort me," she blurts... again, as if to say that no other explanation is needed. Now that she has risen, Kosha leaps up to follow her, tagging along loyally at her heels as she begins to slip through the market. And Mehul wastes no time falling in once more at Faanshi's side, smiling at her on occasion, but not overly pressing her or forcing his presence on her... just a nice casual every day walk... comfortable, soothing almost. "So what's wrong with this poor fellow you're going to visit?" Out of the market, then, and into the poorest section of town, as the summer afternoon gives way to the beginnings of evening. It is not yet dark, but still the sunshine is dimming as the sun angles downward in the sky. Faanshi's sandaled feet are soft upon the cobbled roadways, Kosha's paws almost as much, and the two of them seem quite comfortable with their route. "He dropped a chest on his foot, and shattered the bones within," she answers solemnly, and this is delivered with no stammer, a safer topic for her to discuss. "I go to mend them if I can. It is very difficult for him to walk...!" "I'd imagine so!" Mehul agrees with a light chuckle, casting a smile over at Faanshi, and even a bit of a grin before it softens and he adds with a nod, "That's very kind of you..." a pause... "And yes, I know you're going to say it's a healer's duty. But it still is kind." "A healer's duty," Faanshi agrees, "and... mine.... it is how I spend my days. There is much need in Bordertown." There goes her gaze, flitting away from the dark-skinned, dark-eyed stranger who walks on the other side of her hound, Is she blushing? Tough to tell with the veil in the way, but if the swiftness with which her green-hued stare eludes Mehul's is any indication, there is quite likely a heated flush beneath the smoky gauze. "Many Mongrel men and women and children, in need...!" "A very noble person you are Faanshi." Mehul says with a nod toward the air in front of him, smiling broadly, peeking at her from the corner of his eye in an attempt to catch her staring perhaps... "I admire that very much. They are lucky you are here." The maiden shakes her head, apparently bound and determined to deny any such gracious things said of her -- and her gentle voice rings with heartfelt conviction as she replies, "No... just a humble servant of the Neverending Fire and His Holy Mother... with a gift. I use it, where I am permitted...!" Into Bordertown she walks, her motions almost too gentle to be called striding, but still there is a kind of otherworldly cast to her walk, the lamb proceeding into the forest, unheeding or unknowing of what wolves may lurk in green shadows. Occasionally she passes men or women or children on their way elsewhere; one or two of them smile at her. Recognizing her. "Miss Faanshi, evenin' t' ye..." "'Masty, Miss Faanshi!" "Namaste', Imphada, Imphadi..." Each person she greets is given the same grave humble courtesy she has shown Mehul, though as the last one goes by, she turns back to him to point out a turn into a side alley, jammed full of the evidence of many families with rooms therein. Clothes hang to dry on lines across the top of the alley. Boxes are stacked by doors. Mercifully there is little refuse in sight, as if the inhabitants of this place are doing their best to keep it as clean as possible, but still the scents of a large number of people crammed into a small living area cannot be denied. Mehul walks through the compliments, throwing little smiles at Faanshi and bowing his head to those who greet her, even if they don't greet him. It's simply polite. He doesn't do anymore than that however. He follows her in to the back alley, frowning at its conditions, staying close by her as though he might need to protect her... an obsidian dagger glints, concealed within his clothing, begging to be unleashed. He's silent for now though. A bark sounds up on a landing just overhead, another dog catching sight and scent of Kosha, who barks back -- but the exchange between the dogs is enough to bring three different faces peeking out of windows and doors to see who's passing into their domain. One of these is a half-grown Mongrel girl who pipes out, whipping about to call into the interior of her dwelling, "Mamma, Mamma, th' 'ealer's comin', ye 'ear? Wake Da!" Someone else calls out a reply, and as they do, Faanshi turns once more to her companion. Green eyes lift, extremely shyly, above the black veil. "This is the place where I must heal tonight," she says. "Thank you... for seeing me safely here." "It was my pleasure, Faanshi, truly." is Mehul's response and he bows to her deeply, taking a step or two back. "I enjoyed your company, and hope you enjoyed mine. PErhaps we'll see eachother again sometime hmm?" To the dog he moves only briefly, scratching the animal behind the ear and below the jaw. "You take care too Kosha, don't eat her out of house and home." "If Atar wills it, it will be so..." _Is_ Faanshi really that pious? Certainly that same conviction she'd voiced before sounds in her words once again. But there's unsureness there -- and a momentary peek of green eyes in what can only be the reaction of a maiden affected by a powerful physique... which she has seen. By dark-gleaming eyes, and a deep, kind voice... Flustered, she trembles almost imperceptibly for a fraction of an instant, then blurts, "Kosha is always hungry, b-but he would have to eat much to remove us from Atesh-Gah... I... I did enjoy meeting you, Imphadi...!" [To be continued...]