called by mighty heaven, carried by mother earth

Sin is watching him. Not with any ill intent -- he's convinced of that much -- but with something that feels worse in the moment: a personal interest, nosing after the vague stranger's familiarity that Wolf looks away from. It's there in the small things, something so fragile it will surely shatter if he picks it up and carries it with him in his slow march to the end.

...But he's here eating food the man made himself. Wolf's brow flattens over his eyes with a prickle of conscience. He should at least answer his questions, right? It'll be like that damn bird the so-called messenger attempted to foist upon him: harmless, so long as he leaves it where he found it.

"...I'm not sure if I understand." He turns the words over and over in his head, only more confused with how much he dwells on it: It's better than what he would have been allowed to cook? "You say even this is better than you were allowed in the past, but... This is common fare, isn't it?"

A thought occurs to him. The tribes of Sacae are herd-keepers by tradition: So when Bern invaded and the Djute betrayed the rest of the country to favor the invaders, defeated tribes would often be punished by having their herds seized by the enemy, if not slaughtered outright — As was said. And when he had returned to Sacae at last, the plains did seem so remarkably barren.

...It's best not to make assumptions. Best not to see signs where there are none — But the words keep turning, the memory of hunger still sharp inside of him.

Sue & Sin // Mission Board: Herald

However… there was an issue. Those girls had mentioned that she would need a special card to get in, and they were only handed out to couples. 

Love was something Sue hadn’t thought about too much about— the war and the restoration of her tribe took priority in her mind, but her mind is much clearer now that she was in Fódlan, there could be room for thoughts of a possible romance… 

Though, she couldn’t imagine faking an emotion like that. Lying to someone and keeping them from finding a partner who truly loved them… that was unforgivable. 

…but her only option was to get someone to help her get that card. Luckily, she knew just who to ask. Once class let out, Sue immediately rushed out of her classroom and headed out to find the only person she could trust to do this— Sin. 

It doesn't mean much, in the end. He's too busy with his own duties to go to the effort of investigating a shop that might not even exist: If it does, he’ll hear from the ones who did; if not, then nothing will have changed. And of course he’s annoyed, for just a split second, when someone interrupts his peace in the stables, but—

"Lady Sue!"

Ah, right… It’s been so long since he’s heard her voice. Nice to have some direction again.

It’s to his mild displeasure that the shop comes up again, though the pride of being of use once more dims it in short order. He likes this feeling, he thinks, nodding along as she speaks, feeling more secure than he has in months… Though, he’s not sure if he completely likes the direction this request is going. Tracing over every word she says, Would you—?

Oh. Um. Please don’t say it like that.

"Ah, Lady Sue…?" His face suddenly feels unseasonably hot. Unsightly. Clear your throat, try again: "...Sorry. I'll do anything you ask of me, so if you’re sure of this, I will. It'll be more convenient for the both of us, anyway."

"I don't... know how to use a bow..." He mumbles quietly. Which was not entirely the truth. He knew a few basics from watching Lady Louise, and some things that he had picked up here at the academy. But he was far from an expert like those of the Sacae plains.

"...There's not much I can help you with, in that case." He doesn't really have the time or energy to give him any sort of emergency go-over, so this is what they're stuck with. Oh, actually: "Don't pull on the drawstring if you aren't loosening an arrow, as a note. That pressure needs to go somewhere, and it'll wreck the entire frame if you do. Other than that, you may just need to intuit the rest."

That last bit isn't very good advice, and he knows it, but he's not suited to being a teacher in the slightest. Which makes his own position a bit precarious, but that's something he'll figure out once he's got Erk out of the door.

There's a saying, you know? when you're in Fodlan, you've got to do as they would, right? Of the newest snacks, the shaved ice was definitely the oddest of the bunch. A sweet, syrup covered dish served in a bowl, made to be eaten instead of...

Hold on, that guy's drinking it from a glass? He does a double take. "Wait, what's this bowl for, then?" He asks this more to himself than the person nearby, wondering if he picked it up by accident. No, he's sure that it was for the shaved ice. So why...

He makes another glance back towards the man. Huh?!

"Wait! Don't I know you?!"

He can't say that he knows Sin well - but Hugh definitely doesn't forget a face. Usually. Most of the time.

...Huh? Who's this guy?

Sin dares to think that he really, really doesn't need more excitement today, all things considered — Certainly had enough of that for one night... Quit your shouting, he thinks, but a cursory glance does reveal the man to be just familiar enough, at least so far as Sin knows he's seen him before.

"You might." Sin returns to his drink for a moment. It's sticky-sweet and doesn't have the freshness he'd like — More of a suggestion of the idea of fruit than anything that actually resembles it. Disappointing. "Didn't you get picked up after we took Aquileia?"

That's not exactly how that happened, since memory recalls there wasn't much taking involved in the fights in Etruria, for obvious reasons. But it's close enough that Hugh would know what he's talking about, so Sin leaves it at that.

What actually comes out of his mouth is a simple, "uh, yeah." He stands awkwardly, looking down at the bowl that he has in his hands. The bowl that very clearly was not a glass, and had no intentions of being used to sip up the icy drink (?).

Hugh glances away. "This bowl? Er, well..." Damnit, he can't improvise! He can't say that they were short on glasses. Or, wait, maybe he can, like so? "Great question! They didn't have any glasses when I was over there, but I really wanted to try this. Ha, maybe I should have just waited until they restocked? Hahaha..."

It's not a perfect excuse. And the more he recognizes that, the quicker he's crafting ways to change the subject. What to say, what to say...

But, catching up? That's a bit more than Sin knows how to deal with from someone like this. There were, to his recollection, very few people in the army that particularly liked him: He's almost a little surprised Hugh isn't outright scared of him, because apparently he's just kind of a scary guy. Not that Sin thinks of himself as anything of the sort, but...

Well, he's used to it by now.

"...If you want." he says, taking the flower from Hugh's hands. There's probably little point to telling him no, because he'll probably push the matter even if there's no real reason for them to keep in touch. He can do whatever he wants, if he intends to follow up on it. "You might as well take this, too."

With that said, Sin offers up a lily, and tries not to look Hugh in his eyes.

Does he come across as someone with a sweet tooth? The thought is distant, more amused than anything as it flits through his mind at the sight of another plate of sweets. For a moment, he seems to reach for it, pivoting at the last to plucking a yellow rose from his (now significantly reduced) bouquet.

Wordlessly, the Aurelian holds it out, his gaze falling upon the flower petals and somewhere more distant still. Sin had given him food when he'd shown up out of nowhere, following the scent on a whim; he'd cared to wish him a happy birthday just so that Wolf knew that it mattered; and now, despite how Wolf has held him at arm's length and willfully turned his eyes away from a want for familiarity, for friendship, for any kind of connection, Sin offers him a kindness once again.

Family and neighbors, Joachim had said earlier. A crease forms between his brows, an uneasy weight that tethers him back to the present. His eyes cut upward to meet Sin's own, tumultuous and unreadable. You would mourn me already when I am gone, he thinks, the line of his lips firming. I've failed you both. For who had he protected this way? No one; nothing, save for his cowardice.

That’s... New. Has Wolf ever taken that much of an interest in him before? Taking a moment to let the words sink in, he feels a quick flutter in his chest at the sudden attention onto himself — It’s always strange to be asked those sorts of things to begin with, but from it to come from someone like Wolf, who Sin never recalls showing any particular interest in the world around him, is almost special.

Like looking into a mirror image, maybe. A man wandering across the world, far from the plains of his youth, never thinking of anything — Who does that sound like, exactly?

“…Right, well, I‘m from the Kutolah. From Sacae. There was a time — Most of my life — Where we were the strongest of all the tribes, who held the rest of the country in our palms…” He says, slowly, voice low like he’s confessing to something terrible. “…But those days are over, now. My tribe was crushed by an enemy we couldn’t foresee, and we were humiliated with the rest. And I… Fled, on my Lord‘s orders.”

Of course he would have never dared to defy the Chieftain’s will, but thinking about it still wracks him with shame — Would it have been easier to die valorously than have to live with the burden of putting everything back together? I shouldn’t think that way, Sin thinks, but…

—Why did I have to live?

It’s a stupid, selfish thing to think, and Sin knows it: He has to live for the sake of Sacae future’s, he’s told. He has to live for his tribe, for his Lord and Lady, for everyone none of them could save. But it is hard. He can’t deny that.

“Of course we beat back the invaders, but the damage was done. Not just for us. The country was destroyed. But, here I am still.”

Why am I telling you all this anyway? Maybe it’d be nice to have someone understand the pain, is all. A wound that will never heal, now bleeding freely onto the floor beneath them, finally acknowledged for what it is.

"WAHHH!" Tina jumps, startled with a hand comes down into her shoulder and then she jumps even more when she realizes just who it had been.

"Sin? Sin!? But, wait a minute, how do I know you're really for real Sin?" Eyes narrow and she pokes him in the sternum as though that is an acceptable and real way of figuring it out. Satisfied enough, she gives him a nod.

Eh, let's try not to go there tonight. Hopefully.

"...I would hope I am, I guess." Tina doesn't need to know that there are still moments when he fears he isn't. Perhaps it's only going to get worse from here, with the reminder.

Doesn't stop him from jolting when she right in the center of his chest, though. Way too close. Wait, was she even here when this whole thing got started? Whatever. He can't really conceptualize what a masquerade is supposed to look like, so he just huffs and nods along.

a single, unhurried glance is all that rath of the kutolah needs.

to know that there is a familiarity about the stranger before him: an unusual yet understandable paradox. a familiarity to the way his eyes narrow, to the shifting of his expression, to the way he stands, moves, looks. even without the appurtenances of their culture, the bandana, the furs, rath instinctively knows; knows as all his kind do of others who wade the golden sea-grass of sacae and feel father sky's wind on their skin. mother earth beneath their heel. before him is no dweller of cobble, no tall-collared man clad in steel, but a plainsman.

"you...from what tribe do you hail?"

it has been some manners of months since rath last spoke with a fellow plainsdweller. but, he is certain of this one. so certain that he holds out the box of sweets in his hand; an earlier handout given away freely under the reasoning that the ballroom needed to do away with excess. in reality, sweets of the like serve him none, his tongue is better acclimated to safe and unexciting flavors, but they are applied well here as his offering.

no, his historic kindness for his own people—those who have mocked and disowned him—without request for anything in turn.

He doesn't have anything to signal his favor, unfortunately — These chocolates are unfamiliar to him, they're certainly not anything of Sacaen make — But of course there's nothing that can truly convey the relief of meeting another like himself here. That's... Enough, for the time being.

"Sin of the Kutolah. Are you also our tribe...?"

He's tempted to push the matter of the gift a bit more, because he knows that what is offered can never be taken back, but maybe it'd be embarrassing to do those sorts of rites surrounded by outsiders? That's fine: He has another thing to offer, if his brother will take it.

(...There's something familiar about his face that Sin can't place, though. Someone he may have seen long ago, distantly, when he was a child? No, impossible — He's far too young for that. But, the thought remains.)