"Repaying a Debt" Log Date: 10/26, 11/4/00 Log Cast: Faanshi, Sunset Tide Log Intro: For many days now, Faanshi has been devastated by the news she has received of the death of her beloved, the Mongrel bard Lyre. Only after much time under the care of her teacher FallingStar, and not a few days spent in prayer in Atesh-Gah for that matter, has she begun to feel able to face the normality of life in Haven again... and only after a deep profound dream of Lyre's spirit bidding her a loving farewell has her shattered soul begun to truly mend. Now, she has donned black to pay his memory quiet honor, but she has also returned to her treks around Haven. And memory has returned to the young shudra of a Sylvan sailor who helped her while she was ill, who she seeks out with a modest token to offer him for his help.... *===========================< In Character Time >===========================* Time of day: Morning Date on Aether: Saturday, April 20, 3907. Year on Earth: 1507 A.D. Phase of the Moon: Waxing Crescent Season: Spring Weather: Clear Skies Temperature: Warm *==========================================================================* Northern Docks - Haven Here is a wilderness of masts and sails; where great wooden behemoths dwarf tiny fishing boats, and narrow skiffs glide atop the waves as fleet as deer. Here is the main harbor of Haven, and goods are unloaded daily by the burly dockhands, while others are toted aboard ships bound for distant ports. Day or night, the bustle of activity remains constant, and a few rowdy taverns supply drink and entertainment for sailors who've enjoyed neither for months. The smell of the sea--salt, brine, and fish--hangs over the docks, but not unpleasantly so. For those who make their living from the sea--be they shipbuilders, sailors, fishermen, or merchants--it is the smell of home. And whether they've settled down in this seaport town, or are merely passing through, it is a welcome reminder of a life beneath the open sky, with the wind in your sails and the stars above to guide you. Contents: Sunset Tide Obvious exits: Docks Streets Siren's Song Town Garden Faanshi At first glance, some things about this individual are easy to discern. The garments worn are those oft seen on Varati females, yet, this figure stands at only 5'9", small for a woman of that race. But woman she clearly is, if the glimpses of slender hands and feet and of the shape beneath her flowing garb are to be believed. What portions of her skin are visible are a warm shade of gold; a hint of a braid of coal-black peeks out from beneath her sari. Shy or perhaps simply trained to submissive silence she must be, for she rarely raises her eyes to anyone unless specifically bidden, and she speaks so seldom and so softly that it is nigh impossible to determine the quality of her voice. Only the most astute of observers might notice that every so often -- perhaps when she thinks no one is watching -- this silent one peeks with furtive curiosity out from behind her veil at the world at large, with eyes set at a slight un-Varatish slant in her face, eyes the color of summer leaves. She is simply clad, her garments humble but of excellent repair, perhaps the clothing of a servant whose household garbs even its servants well. However, though she wears silks that can be only of Varati make, and although her gold-trimmed red choli and blue silwar are of strong and vivid hues, there is a certain sobriety about her garb over all -- born of the unadorned black sari which covers her head and winds about her slender frame, and the opaque black gauzy veil which hides most of her face from easy view. On her feet she wears simple sandals. Faanshi has met the dawn today in the old city garden -- with no ears but those of her loyal dog to hear the earnest song she lifted up to the sunrise and the tentative pluckings she made upon a lyre that has these past few days made its way into her possession. But now that those duties are done, the shudra maiden has a new task she hopes to accomplish: paying a debt she has had pending for weeks now, but which she has not been able to attend. Today, perhaps, she will be able to do something about that. Her basket carried upon the crook of her slender arm, Kosha trotting along as always at her heel, the healer makes her way down to the docks of Haven and aims herself towards a house where she spent several days ill. Behind the black veil she has donned, she nibbles her lip as she goes, hoping that she remembers the way. Feet making their way along the planks and boards of the dock along with dozens of others with a *clomp* and *clump* of scores of feet tapping along. Sunset Tide is not one for mornings for the biggest part of his life, thus why his name refers to the closing hours of daylight rather than the dawning ones. However, today he has made his way out to market early in the morning to beat most of the press of crowds and get himself some supplies. A sack slung over his shoulder his lips are pinched together as he makes a steady, droning humming sound that is tuneless and hopeless it would seem. Now he stands on the stoop of his home, trying to nudge the door open with hsi foot carefully, which seems to be getting a handle on the situation for the better part. The dog is the first herald of Faanshi's approach, for as he catches sight of the Sylvan who had attended his beloved person not too very long ago, Kosha lets out a hearty bark and scampers out ahead of the maiden. Fortunately for Kosha the stoop of that rooming house is the shudra's destination, and she is not too far behind him though her approach is rather shyer. "Imph--" she calls out softly, and then she catches herself and amends, "Sunset Tide...?" His feet finally open the door and he turns around at Kosha's bark and your own words while he looks at you with sparkling aquamarine eyes. When he looks at you his face, already pleasant and thoughtful looking bursts into a sunshining smile of amusement and joy that gleaming brilliantly enough to blind most folks. "Why, Faanshi'n Kosha too!" he pronoucnes in an brilliant, himsical tone of voice that almost sing-songs. Behind him, the door claps shut without him even noticing. Kosha begins to wag his tail at top speed, even as he hops about a bit in front of the sailor, torn between trying to beg for skitches and trying to get a sniff of what he's carrying -- and whether there's food involved. And aye, that's Faanshi, though she appears to have changed her clothing since the last time the Sylvan saw her. A black sari swathes itself about her frame, and the gauzy veil that hides the lower half of her face is black as well. "Namaste'," she says shyly, bowing as is her way, hands palm to palm at her breast. "And chookma... I am glad to see you, I've come to see you, you see..." There is, indeed, food within the sack that the Sylvan caries and, presently, his hands are occupied with the items that he carries. "Tis good to see ye as well Kosha." he says as his lips split wider at the houndish semi-hopping antics of the dog and his mile a minute tail wagging energy. When you speak to him again the brown eyebrows lift upwards towards the small man's hairline as his head turns slightly to the side in a bird-like manuever. "Ye... came to see me?" he says in a questioning fashion and then says, "Well, whate'er for lass?" he asks and then shrugs his shoulders, "If ye'll open that bloody door, ye can come up with me." he says grinning. Oh... he _has_ food. Faanshi's brow crinkles beneath the edge of her dark sari, and she casts a glance sideways down at the full basket she carries; sheepishly she answers, not quite meeting the Sylvan's eyes, "I... I wished, you see... to come and thank you... for what you did for me, but you seem to have been to the market...?" Is that disappointment in the girl's gentle voice? Still, she does quickly step forward to reach her free hand for the door, adding earnestly, "Of course I shall open -- just let me get it--" And she does, tugging the door open again for Sunset Tide's benefit. Nodding his head at your words, "Aye, I had to stock up for the week. 'N buy some wood for practicin' with some. Tide explains to you in a thoughtful manner, detecting the hint of disappointment as he watches you open the door. "Come' up, please." the lyrical voice says to you as he makes his way to the stairs and then upwards speaking the whole time in his usually long winded manner, "Aye. Faanshi, yuir lookin' quite well now that yuir healthy'n e'erthin'. Why'r ye wearin' black though? Did ye change clans yuir servin'?" hequestions you in a thoughtful manner as his own door comes up before them and he hrms in consideration. There is the briefest of pauses, and then, as Faanshi and her hound follow the sailor up the stairs to his rooms, the maiden says very softly, "I am... in mourning." She does not elaborate upon that simple statement, except to ruefully appends, "And... better than I have been." The halfbreed girl does peek up unsurely above her veil, and it might perchance be noted that there are still shadows of strain about her eyes -- though unlike how they'd been during her illness, there's a certain peace and clarity within them now. Finally opening his door, with an almost comical balancing act done with the sack and him opening the crude lock on his door. Tide opens the door and makes his way inside leaving it open for you and Kosha to enter, while he makes his way towards a beautifully Shaped wooden box which you would guess is used to store the brief lived items that he has purchased for himself. "I'm sorry for yuir loss, whoe'er it was that ye lost." he says to you over his shoulder and then leaves the bag in the box as he says to you, "Oh, nae. Ye truly look good. STill tired, I can see, but yuir much prettier. Got yuir color back'n e'erthing I see now. E'en past yuir veil." he grins as his he teases you playfully. Small Room - Tide's House(#1743RFJ) This is a small room that serves as a home to some soul somewhere. A solitary window provides most of the light through the day and a small hearth which is across the room from the bed provides some small amount of light. The bed itself isn't exactly what one would name as comfortable, perhaps servicable would suffice in terms. Near the fire is a small table with a stack of a few pots and wooden plates, the plates are very incricately carved with excellent detail to the ocean on their surface. A large tub rests in the other corner near the fireplace, a screen can be pulled around it if need be but you doubt that the privacy is used very frequently. The room feels lived in and seems to have a sense of precision and cleanliness to its otehrwise spartan furnishings. Contents: Sunset Tide "Thank you," Faanshi whispers, while Kosha busies himself with the task of thoroughly sniffing as much of the room as he can -- just on the general principle of seeing if it smells different than the last time he was here. The maiden's gaze ducks down demurely, though whether it's in answer to the condolences or the compliment might be a trifle difficult to determine. Except that her voice does turn noticeably more flustered as she blurts, "I-I have been under the care of my acarya, you see... I... needed her help." Then, a peek of leaf-colored eyes above the smoky veil. "That is why I could not come before, you see..." And, still a trifle flustered, she rummages with her free hand into the basket while explaining, "I wanted to repay you for your kindness... it is not much, but I thought perhaps I could bring you fresh bread... it is flatbread, you see, and spiced and flavored... and I have cheese as well..." "Ah, sounds good. If I had some wine we could make a meal'a it with some roast'r somethin'." Tide says to you in a brilliant manner, amused and assured. He remains playful as you stutter and fluster yourself over his little compliments, "What's an acarya? 'n why did ye need her help? he questions you as his eyes watch the great hound Kosha stalk the territory of his flat for a few minutes. The scents are, of course, somewhat different but not that much. Different types of wood inhabit the place now than when last he was here. Motioning with a long fingered hand the man says, "Please, sit yuirself down'n rest." Oh, aye, it's easy to tell that the girl is not at all used to being described as 'pretty' -- especially when she has her doubts about much being able to be gleaned from a veil dark enough to hide all but the barest contours of the features beneath it. Bobbing her head in grateful acknowledgement, she at last settles herself upon the chair in which the sailor had caught his rest while she dozed in fever in his bed. And as she does, she pulls forth the small sack of flatbread and the round of cheese from within her basket, offering them up in guileless hopefulness for the sailor's consideration. This attracts the attention of the dog, who trots right back over and starts trying to sniff the basket. "Kosha, no," the shudra scolds gently, nudging him away with a sandaled foot. Then she explains, "Acarya... it is a Varati word, you see... it means teacher. Mine is FallingStar, who has been looking after me while I..." And she pauses, eyes going a trifle distant and the barest breath of a sigh sounding behind her veil. At last she decides to conclude, simply, "While I grieved." Listening to you with bright, adept eyes while he considers you and then he smiles in a gentle and friendly manner. "Oh." is all Tide says at first before his feet move him forth to look at the bread which he approves immediately with a quick nod at you, "Looks like good bread to me, lass. If ye do nae mind drinkin' some ale then we could ha'e a bit'a dinner together if ye want." he says to you and smiles, more gently than brilliently, "Again, 'm sorry that ye lost someone. Tis ne'er easy thing to ha'e happen to ye but tis rarely somethin' we can control either." "It... happens to me a lot," murmurs Faanshi in plaintive tones, and for a moment or two, black-covered head bowed and eyes full and liquid, she seems again the bereft creature that you'd taken into your care. But then she looks up, actually looks up, and even though the doleful shyness in those expressive eyes does not entirely vanish, it is offset a little by a glimmer of what might be embarrassment. "I think... I remember that I told you that. While I was ill. And... is it not too early in the day for dinner?" Watching you garner control of yourself for a moment the young Sylvan replies, "Aye, ye did say that. Howe'er, I do nae think tis something ye can change." he says and when you look back up to him his gentle smile is in place again. "It will take me 'least an hour to roast us a roast so, ye know, that will take some time to get done. Perhaps, if ye prefer, ye could go out'n get us some wine if ye want. I ha'e money for it'n all. Make a day'a it if ye will. Or we could wait 'til tomorrow so's nae to surprise ye. Tide explains to you in a whimsical, flexible fashion as he looks at you wawaiting you to make a decision. Faanshi is not exactly a girl prone to making faces; at best, her grimaces amount to a delicate knitting of her dark brows, or a crinkle of the nose mostly hidden by the veil she wears. She makes a bit of a face now, though, saying hesitantly, "I am... not sure it is proper for me to drink wine, Sunset Tide." With the formality of her pronunciation, that might _almost_ be 'Imphadi', but not quite. "I have never had any. But I would be honored to share a meal with you...!" Kosha puts in his vote by sitting down on his haunches, listening alertly, tail a-wag. Meals! Meals are good! Especially for the dog! Shrugging his shoulders upwards at your words as careless and care free as he has ever been, "What do ye people drink if ye do nae drink wines'n ales?" Tide asks you with upraised brows, his hair shimmering with its curious green glint as teh sun beams through his window. "Surely I ha'e nae thing 'gainst water, but ye bloody well can nae drink it for e'ery meal. I'd go crazy without ha'ing something to taste on me tongue. Wine goes pretty good with roast, red ones 'specially." he explains to you in a playful manner. "Oh, the kshatri have wine," clarifies the maiden, "and other fine things to drink... at least in Atesh-Gah. I have..." And Faanshi tilts her head to one side a moment, again looking shy, sheepish. "Not been in many of the homes of the vaisya, so I do not know what they drink. In Atesh-Gah... the shudra are sometimes permitted to have wine... if it is a festival, like Holi... but most of the time it does not seem very proper. I have not seen very many of the shudra drinking it." Her sungolden brow crinkles up in further consideration, and then clears as she looks up again and solemnly concludes, "I do not think I should have any wine, because I am in mourning, but if we have a meal, and you wish to have wine, I do not mind...!" Only belatedly does she realize that she's actually said this to a _man_, and it catches Faanshi by surprise. She just stops for a moment, struck by a sense of disbelief at the ease of those words emerging from her. Listening to what you have to say for a few moments the youthful Sylvan man seems to take your ease of conversation in stride, almost like having an actual conversation with a normal person. "Oh, well if ye do nae want to ha'e dinner then we'll just nae do it." Tide says to you in the sparkling, quicksilver manner in which he speaks. His long fingers flicking back and forth as the quickly in a dismissing fashion as though shrugging the entire suggestion off. Tide looks at you once more and seems to prepare to say something and then decides the better of it and leaves it to himself at this point. It further occurs to Faanshi that if she is to eat with this Sylvan, she must unveil before him... but then again, he _has_ already seen her face, through circumstances she could not control. Very quietly, very shyly, she murmurs, "I would... like to have a meal with you. But I think that we should eat here, or at least... somewhere where I may take off my veil in private and..." With that, though, she trails off and peeks down at her hands, struck with even more shyness than usual. "Because... I mean... the women of the Varati do not normally eat with the men... unless they are, um... their husbands... do you see?" Shaking his head a little bit at your words the smallish Sylvan gives you a slight smile from his lips as he does so. His voice pauses once more and then finally speaks to you, "Aye, so ye ha'e told me many times that tis unacceptable for women to e'en be near men I think." the quicksilver, flighty voice says to ye in a thoughtful, assured manner. "Tis alright, Faanshi. Since tis 'gainst yuir beliefs'n e'erythin'. S'nae somethin' worth trying to convince ye to do otherwise." Tide says with a final sort of sigh for a moment, "I do nae think someone could ha'e a proper dinner with so many 'rai customs gettin' inna way." Troubled, Faanshi blurts, "But oh, you see, it is not, I-I do not--" And she looks up again, eyes wide and earnest above the black veil she now wears. A profound shyness is still evident in those summer-leaf orbs, but from somewhere it seems that the girl has as of late learned a measure of strength. "Forgive me for not saying it clearly... I _want_ to share a-a meal with you, it is the least I can do to repay your kindness." Her voice quavers a little, and then she pulls in a breath to steady it as she goes on, "I am just trying to say... that usually... it would not be proper for a-a woman to bare her face before a man who is not her husband... but you have already seen my face." Tilting his head a little bit to the side, giving its examination a vaguely bird-like quality while the aquamarine eyes sparkle at you like waves. "Aye." Tide says to you with a pinching of his lips while he smiles in a thin, wane fashion for a moment. "I do nae claim to understand the 'rai culture, nor do I really want to. I'm nae a big fan'a the way they act'r the way they treat their 'lower class' people. It'll be 'ard to ha'e fun at any sort'a dinner if e'ery custom they got says that you ought nae e'en be speakin' to me." he says to you in a quick, playful voice that still holds a sense of seriousness to the manner in which he communicates the general feeling that he has with this. "But there is no holy surah that says I must not even speak to you," Faanshi protests, apparently entirely seriously. "In fact... it would break the seventh surah." Wait a minute. _Is_ she entirely serious? It's difficult to tell with that smoke-black veil in the way and obscuring most of her expression, but there is nevertheless a subtle easing of her somber gaze, an ever so slight lightening of her voice. "Besides... I _have_ been speaking with you...!" Chuckling in a an easy, whimsical manner the sailor youth looks at you and shakes his head at you before he speaksi n an admissory tone of voice. "Lass, I do nae e'en know what a bloody surah is. Leave alone what they be sayin'r how they are s'posed to be interepretted." Tide voice says to you as he motions with a hand and looks at the floor, "I do nae want to ha'e to work 'round e'ery surah'r whate'er it is that'll apply to the situation." his aquamarine eyes focus on you for a moment and purses his lips, "Aye, ye ha'e been speakin' with me." he notes to you in a thoughtful voice. Kosha has settled down now that he has thoroughly investigated the little flat, and, finding nothing particularly entertaining to hold his interest, sinks down resignedly to listen to the sailor and the shudra as they talk. Every so often the dog's tail wags at the sound of Faanshi's soft voice, but for now at least the maiden's attention rests upon the young Sylvan rather than upon her hound. "I am sorry," she says meekly, "if the ways of the Varati are confusing to you... I would be happy to try to explain them... if you do not mind that I-I do not, I am not very used to conversation. And I would be happy to eat with you here... it is..." She quirks her head for a moment, gaze flittering away, as she searches for a word. Finally she concludes, sounding simultaneously surprised at what occurs to her and entirely forthright, gaze easing further, "Safe." Sunset Tide shakes his head in response, perhaps a bit too furtively for the the truth to be hidden, "Oh, nae lass. I would nae want to... ehm... bother ye with explaining what is surely... ehm... a complicated religion." comes his voice quickly to you to assauge your need to explain the intricacies of he curious, rigid cultures that he doesn't really seem interested in. "In any case, tis good that ye came by when ye did. I ha'e been workin' on soem trinkets to offer ye." he says with a smile a moves a hand back to a box at the base of his little work table/dining area. "I--" The total change of subject makes Faanshi visibly rear back a little where she's sat herself down, those summer-leaf eyes of hers blinking several times. Glancing in the direction her erstwhile savior indicates, she seems gripped for a moment with utter bemusement -- first by the simple fact that she's been distracted, and second by the nature of the distraction. "Trinkets?" _Plural_? "But... why would you do such... you do not need to--" "Nae, I do nae need to do anything. I could ha'e left ye laying on the docks to die'r any number of things." Tide says to you in a thoughtful, yet utterly obvious, manner while he draws out two wooden objects. Neither of them particularly large, but one is large enough to be obvious immediately. It is shaped like a bone or a drum stick of some fashion. "This is made'a some'a the hardest wood that ye can find, I shaped it'n crafted it with hollow ends filled with wee metal beads. Tis something for yuir hound to play with, as big'n strong as he is with the magic's reinforcement it'll last a good while under the meanest use." he says to you with a wink. Opening his other hand to expose a tiny, intricate, miniature of a sari-clad woman sitting on her hip balanced on one arm while the other holds a basket. Her figure is not exaggerated or unreal, but veiled but for subtle hints of shapliness. "'N this is for ye." For a few moments, Faanshi is entirely speechless, thunderstruck by the items Sunset Tide proffers her. How often does someone give her gifts? If the shock in her stance and her eyes is any indication, it can't be very often at all. Awed, moved, she stretches forth uncertain sungolden fingers, not quite daring to touch either of the two items. It is perhaps difficult to say which moves her more, the toy for the dog or the little figure; her hand wavers back and forth between them. At last, though, she breathes hoarsely, "Is... is it me?" "Aye, tis. The only time I e'er saw ye was with a basket, which seenms to be a bit of'a regular attachment for ye." Tide explains to you in a whimsical, easy going kind of voice. Low toned and conversationally gentkle while he watchs your hands touching the obviously Shaped object. "I did nae ha'e a model so it ended up a wee bit less specific than I'd hoped to make it, but I hope that its good 'nough for ye." he says to you in an explanatory fashion, allowing you to take it and touch it as you wish to. "I carry my herbs in it," is the maiden's reply, her voice turned small and shy all over again, "a-and a bit of food and a toy for Kosha, when we go through Bordertown each day... some do not wish me to heal them with magic and so I must bring the herbs as well..." But Faanshi's words are almost an afterthought, seized as her attention has become by the toy bone and the statuette. As she takes the former, the beads within rattle softly; as they do, Kosha's ears perk up. For a moment or two the maiden tentatively waggles the toy at him, then tosses it in his direction for him to begin to inspect. It makes noise -- that's enough for the dog. The big curious hound seizes the thing in his paws, and while he does, the healer's gaze comes back to the remaining gift. "It is..." Not exactly able to call a thing 'lovely' when she knows it is meant to represent her, she stares wide-eyedly at the delicate little miniature. "You have honored me," she whispers at last, peeking upward, eyes very full. His eyes, for several moments, watch the dog attack the strong, magically hardened wood of the bone playfully and with seeming amusement. Then the glittering blue-green irises return to you where you stare at the figure he's crafted of you. No need to tell you that, even with his power, such detail in the rippling fabric and ever etch of the basket's weave took several hours even for such a small figure as the one you hold. "Nae, ye ha'e honored me lass. Ye showed me yuir face when ye did nae ha'e to, at least nae absolutely ha'e to. From what I understand taht was pretty challenging step for ye to take... this is in appreciation." he says in a whimsical fashion while he seems amused, but reserved, with your humor. "It is..." Faanshi's gentle voice begins to roughen, as much as it seems to be able to do, and eyes that had already been very full with the reaction of being presented with this artwork in miniature begin to fill a second time with the beginnings of tears. Immediately realizing this, for she has not spent the last several weeks in emotional turmoil without becoming acutely aware of the fragile state of her own emotions, the halfbreed maiden lifts her free hand to try to rub one dainty knuckle across them. The other cradles the figurine, quite gently. "F-forgive me," she whispers, "I have been... crying very easily lately, and... this gift, it is lovely..." Dipping his head a little bit at your words the sailor seems peaceful and quiet while you make another effort to control yourself, "Aye, lass. Seems that I ha'e the penchant for catchign ye when yuir at yuir most delicate." he says to you in an honest, thoughtful manner, "Tis only so lovely as the lass tis modeled after, though. If ye find it inspiring, tis only b'cause ye yuirself were inspiring to what little artistic whims that do take me from time to time." the easy going, light voice explains to you smoothly as hefolds his hands in his lap quietly. Just as apparent as her lack of familiarity with gifts is Faanshi's lack of familiarity with compliments, for her gaze ducks down sharply and modestly at the one she is given now. Still, though, she manages to whisper, "Thank you... I... oh, Ushas..." Crying now in earnest, she has to pause to make herself steady her breathing before she can speak again -- and reach, as well, into her omnipresent basket for the kerchief she'd tucked therein, to bring it out and dab at her eyes in a half-futile effort to keep dampness from streaking down to her black veil. "Sunset Tide, I-I do not know what I could give you in return for this lovely thing," she breathes then, as soon as she is able. He grins a little, light hearted and eays going as ever, at your words and replies to you with a shrug of his thin shoulders. "Tis the point of'a gift, lass. They come free'a charge, they do nae require that ye offer anything in return for 'em." he explains to you the foreign concept of 'gifting' something. "Besides, ye brought me this bread'n that'll help keep me fed'n healthy for at least another week'r two. What better'n the gift'a life?" he says without a pause or any sense of falsehood to his voice. "Yes, it is so...!" Healer that she is, Faanshi cannot help but fervently agree with that last sentiment, moved anew that the sailor has expressed it. Between that and the jingle of the toy Kosha has taken up and begun to happily gaw upon -- it makes NOISE! Wondrous Noisy Thing! -- she also cannot help but look up again, eyes still teary but turned bright with unmistakable gratitude and perhaps even a hint of pleasure. Safe she has proclaimed this place, and this seems to include the young sailor now sitting before her, for she lets her gaze of summer meet his of water. "Thank you," she repeats, heartfelt. Shrugging a little it is his turn to look somewhat embaraased as he colors just a little, "Aww, lass. Tis nae anythin' out'a the way... just a wee trinket." Tide explains to you as he seems a little abashed at dealing with such open emotions and rubs his hands together for a moment as he watches the hound nearby. "See, Kosha knows what to do with a gift." he points out, deftly shifting the attention from himself (or so he hopes). "Ye smile'n take it, 'cause that's how life ought'a be lived. With a smile and without'a care." he sums up and finally looks back at you. "I think... I think that perhaps I would look silly with a bone in my mouth, even if it is made of wood and jingles." There. Again. Faanshi's voice is at first hearing as somber as it ever seems to be... but still, there's that subtle hint there that suggests she might almost be tentatively trying out humor of her own. Then, however, she turns towards the shy again, murmuring, "I _would_ like to share a meal with you... but perhaps... another time, if you wish to cook? And I could bring more food...?" Grave but hopeful, almost childlike, she quirks her head a trifle sideways, looking over the top of her veil. When you make such an obvious joke Tide does indeed find it humorous, a light chuckling trickle free from him like a burbling stream at your humor. "T'would truly be a sight to see a 'rati lass walkin' 'round wit ha chew toy in 'er mouth." he says shaking his head as the honest amusement continues to flow freely for a few more moments before he takes in a deep breath and nods. "Aye. Though ye do nae need to bring food if ye do nae wish to. I tend to keep enough to feed m'self for several days. 'course if ye want somethin' special ye may need to. Salted beefs'n greens may nae be to yuir likin' for a good meal." "My needs are very simple," is Faanshi's earnest reply to _that_, while Kosha jangles his toy about. "I hardly ever eat very much -- often, I share it with Kosha...!" Another jangle, along with a thump of the hound's tail against the floor at the sound of his name. Slowly then she rises, leaning down a moment to take up her basket again, occupying her hands and her eyes with the task of gently placing the figurine within it. But when it is safely nestled amongst the pouches of herbs, she peeks up again to inquire, "Do you wish me to send word... when I will be able to come? I cannot go far from Atesh-Gah for very long... but I can send word!" Nodding his head a little bit at your words the Sylvan man rises, as well, and moves to the door so he can open it for you and close it when you leave. "Aye, lass, whene'er ye wish just get me'a message'n I'll ha'e e'erything prepared by he time ye get 'ere. 'r well on the way to it bein' done, whiche'er." he says with a flashy grin, more comfortable with his light swagger than with anything obviously genuine. At least, genuine in certain manners. "Kosha," calls Faanshi then, a bit louder than normal, though certainly loud enough to make the dog swivel his head about -- musically, with the wooden bone clenched happily between his powerful jaws. He hops up to scamper as best he can given his size and the short distance to the shudra's side, while the shudra herself settles her basket into its rightful place at her elbow. "Then it shall be done," she answers, inclining her head in acknowledgement... and then turning it into an earnest little bow. "Namaste', Sunset Tide...!" Somewhere, too, she seems to have lost the habit of pronouncing that name in the same sort of formal tones she uses to say 'Imphadi'... but nevertheless, it rides exotically upon her tongue, as though such a name is still strange and wondrous to her. "I am glad to have found you...!" With that, the maiden takes her leave -- the only noises of her departure the jangles produced by the contented hound, and the soft farewell she murmurs behind her veil as she and Kosha set back out into the morning. [End log.]