A silent gloom fell over the duet of warriors as they sat; The midday sun as radiant as it was oppressing. Essyrn's heat was ill-mitigated by course of the river, soothing though it was. Despite the heat, however, Kiri felt not a bead of sweat run down her brow... A likely side effect of the transient state of her soul. Curious-- if a little disturbing. An ever-present reminder of her circumstances, that she was no long truly an inhabitant of this world... Moreso a stranger in a strange land, or a figment of history's imagination.

"Down there!"

She took a moment to take in a long, deep breath, expanding her lungs and revitalizing her body. The skittering footpads had gone from a distant echo to a very noticeable clamor, and now were accompanied by the tell-tale jingle of tempered metal against metal, and the  flapping of leather against skin. Those weren't random animals mucking about in the distance-- they were camels, with leather straddling mounts and-- as was typically the case-- leather-clad men and women doing said straddling on mounts.

The stink of the animals was already more or less upon her heightened senses before they even closed in; Thankful was she that she thought to savor the last bits of air before they drew closer.

"Scumbag! Thought you'd escape us after the stunt you pulled last night, huh?" The accusation was thrown like a foul, month-old fish at the back of Snarg's head, as four hooded figures hurriedly approached the two resting souls at the riverbank, dismounting their camels and strutting toward the two resting warriors. They were an intriguing lot; the leather armor they wore was fairly uniform, with a few deviations between one another out of preference. All bore the same insignia on their right shoulderpad; That of a front-facing lion's head, with wings seemingly sprouting from behind. They were all armed, as well-- though that wasn't surprising in this world, all things considered.

Kiri didn't move, in spite of their proximity and hostility. They weren't talking to her-- surely they weren't. She was right, of course-- though not because she somehow knew the future. Moreso did she sense the tension and intent of the scimitar-wielding strangers long before they so much as opened their mouths.

"Thought you'd make a fool of our boss and run off with that bitch of a giant, huh!? Where's our fucking gold!?"

Of the four, two men-- the particularly mouthy one, as well as one other-- were the closest. Neither'd drawn a blade yet, potentially out of concern for scaring off the resting Kiri near to him, or from a show of patience. Granted, the latter seemed particularly incredulous in the circumstances, as not even moments after he'd come in barking as hot as he had, the mouthy man had placed a boot to Snarg's back, rather disrespectfully nudging him to stand up. "Can't fucking believe we had to track you down-- Can't even find that other piece of shit-- But if you don't cough up what you did with our fucking gold...!"

"Tanner, calm down-- you're gunna scare the girl." His nearby compatriot chimed in.

"FUCK THE GIRL! IF I DON'T GET THAT GODDAMN MONEY BACK EVERY LAST ONE OF US IS FUCKING DEAD!!" 'Tanner', apparently, replied in kind.

Said 'girl' finally exhaled, having had a particularly calming meditative breathing session. She could feel her mind sharpening and her awareness heightening with every passing second, as she willed the effects of the poison out of her very being. Good grief-- what a relief to be able to think clearly again. She almost smiled-- but settled for a contented face faulting instead as she opened her eyes and got a proper view of the situation they... or, well, mostly the dog, had gotten into.

"Oh, I'm not fussed," Fletch snorted as he leaned back against a beam. "I'll keep your secret, Father Yule. No need to worry." He sneered at Theo's description of holiday noble antics, tutting and shaking his head. "Regent's holy ballsack. Your people are something else entirely. Yeah, because it is fake. Bloody exhausting, honestly. I'll take real and penniless over that any day. I don't envy you it, I really don't." He thought on what he'd just said and chuckled to himself. "Who'd have thought I'd be saying a thing like that?"

Her source of attention gone, Aya approached him and shoved her nose between his knees, wagging her tail and waiting expectantly for a pet. "Hey, girl," he murmured, and bent to scratch her behind her ear. "Dewey's done you good, hasn't he, fleabag? Maybe you're his, now, ey?" He was surprised to find himself engaging with her at all. He'd been so adamant about avoiding reminders of Ven as midwinter drew near, and yet here he was, and it didn't sting half as much as he'd expected. Theo's presence in his life, it seemed, had soothed a lot of wounds. He wondered if the man saw it.

"Hmm." Fletcher rose and leaned back against the beam again, still nursing his coffee. "You know...I think there are herbs to make you sick. Like, undeniably ill. For kids who eat what they shouldn't have eaten, right? I know there's one that's in and out of you in an hour, tops, too. So if we get the right one, maybe you can skip the parties whenever you feel like it. And then I'd have to skip the parties, too."

Theo shrugged. His own experiences were so different that he couldn't really comment on how true or not Fletcher's words were. However, when he realized he had let Fletcher in on his own secret tradition, he blushed and looked away embarrassed.

"Well I mean they do their own celebrating of course and they all try to have gifts for each other. My parents give the majority of them Yule Eve off and Yule morning. Kenna and Olivier will likely still work extra but the rest of you can at least enjoy it. I always purchase a barrel of drink for their festive and some small useless gift for each of them. It's stupid and not much I know," he muttered with an embarrassed shrug. "They don't know any of it comes from me except Kenna who helps me with it. Sorry to spoil the magic for you I guess."

He kicked over an empty bucket and sat down on it in thought while Gin and Tonic swarmed at his feet for head pets. "It's a relentless mess of rapidly increasing parties until as it gets closer it's one or even two a night. The closer to Yule yours is, the higher standing in the community you have. If the forces that be are with me I can take ill with plague and avoid the majority of them from the comfort of my bed. Everyone just constantly drunk and loud and merry. It just all feels so...fake."

"I do think. No one's that fucking chipper about Yule. And she's young. They feel it different, you know." Fletch frowned, shrugged, and sipped on his coffee. "Is that how you usually do it? Ordering for the staff? I figured we just scraped it together and made our own fun. I don't think your bodyguards will all be there, though. One of us has got to follow you to whatever holiday nonsense your mum's got planned. Unless your dad's really feeling in the giving spirit," he snorted. "What's the damage, anyway? How bad'll it be? The Obower clan have you over, you have them over...?"

"You think?" He asked getting to his feet and moving further away from the bodyguard in order to spoil the horses. "I mean I know she's growing up but..." he shook his head and rubbed Maple's nose. "I was really hoping it's the time of year.

"Mm! That reminds me I need to send some letters tonight to place some orders for the staff or it's going to be a very sad for you all. I don't know what's worse: Mother or the endless holiday parties to attend."

Fletcher shot the nobleman a dark and warning glance before following him into the stables. He craned his neck. "Huh. Wonder where Dewey's gone off to?" he muttered to himself. He'd been hoping that they weren't alone. At the moment, alone felt dangerous. He stood a ways back, watching Theo and the dog, both hands pressed to the warm mug as he huddled over it. "Oh, she's got herself a boy, I'm dead sure of it," he growled. "She just hasn't figured that out yet, apparently. He'd best be her age for his sake, that's all I'll say."

{NAME}
Dog Chasing Grass

{ALIASES}
N/A

{AGE}
28

{GENDER, SEXUALITY}
Uses he/him or they/them

{SPECIES/ETHNICITY}
Human, Sedvlin Adelan

{HEIGHT/BUILD}
5'10", average

{OCCUPATION}
Runner, messenger, bunch of odd jobs, whatever lets him loose

{RESIDENCE}
Varies, usually around La'marri and the Serha Plains, sometimes into Zantaric or down south to Essyrn. He doesn't stay still too long.



{PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION}
Build; Dog Chasing Grass is fairly average in his build. He's taller, but not any more than any other Adelan. He's got muscle from a lifetime of traveling long distances, either on his own two feet or riding.

Color; Tan, with rich brown hair and light brown, nearly golden eyes.

Alterations; N/A, human, human-shape.

Modifications; N/A

Dress; Despite being far from his home territory in Sedvli, Dog Chasing Grass keeps to the same dress as one would expect in Sedvli, with only mild alterations. He still wraps his chest in strips of cloth to "bind" it, and still keeps to the loose layering of his Sedvlin kin. He doesn't keep to the makeup and skin-staining paints, which he largely attributes to just being too lazy to hunt down the right paint. His hair is kept as a very long mohawk that he either braids back or leaves loose, though he lapses in shaving the sides now and then and it tends to be grown out more often than not.

{PERSONALITY}
Curious, cheerful, a roll-with-the-punches sort. Definitely fits his name very well.

Fun Facts!:

• Despite his often very solitary work, he does like people. Most people. Some people can walk into the ocean.
• Loves trying different cuisines, the man will try any dish once.
• Will make little dolls out of long grass to hand off to kids if he's riding with a caravan.
• Magic makes him sneeze.

{SPECIAL ABILITIES}
Empath; like most Sedvlins who ride pronghorns, Dog Chasing Grass has the empath psionic, able to tap into the feelings of others and also psychically project his own. As a result, he's usually very good at calming critters (and people) down.

{RELATIONSHIPS}
Family; He does have family back home, and sometimes he remembers to send them a letter to reassure them that he's alive.

Friend; a pronghorn antelope creature native to the Adelan grasslands. They've been bonded since Dog Chasing Grass found his name, and one gets the sense that the antelope is more intelligent than her rider.

{HISTORY}
TBD

"No one suspects the deaf fop," he replied with an impish wink. Fletcher's complaints were met with a deepening smirk and Theo signing 'later~' at him.

He scuttled into the barn quickly and was greeted by a much calmer Aya than months previous. "Hello beautiful," he cooed at her, rubbing his nose and face into her fur as he scratched her neck and cheeks.

"So what do you think is up with Aneisha?"

The look he gave Theo shifted into one of admiration. "You're quite good at that," he replied as they headed off for the stables. As he spoke, he walked backwards so that Theo could read him better...and maybe so that he could look at the man, too. "I still think you'd be a good spy. And a good sneak. Maybe we should pull more heists together. Bit of practice, you know?" Fletcher laughed at the thought, high on even the slightest of mischief. Then the breeze picked up, and he winced. "Fuck me, it's freezing. Guess I did ask for it. Come on. Let's get to the stables."

Aneisha gasped at hearing she was getting a present and moved in quickly to give Fletcher a hug. A cookie was dropped into his pocket as she did so with a wink as he filched the coffee cup. 

Theodore meanwhile was looking every bit like the cat that ate the canary as he was chased out after Fletcher. Only once they were further along did he reach into his pocket to reveal the sugar. "All according to plan.~ Too worried about the carrots to worry about the real prize," he beamed with pride.