#vassarazorclaw

Nadal stepped into the forest on the soles of simple black walking shoes. From them, black flower-patterned lace led up to a short-- though loose-- black, woolen skirt and matching shirt cut at a three-quarter sleeve. Lace made up the fourth quarter of his sleeves, flared at the ends for a more delicate touch. He tied his hair into a bun, kept in place by a small braid that circled around its entirety. Thin lips had been stained dark indigo for the evening, and though he’d done his best, he couldn’t get his lips to appear too much more full.

Though he left the belt behind, he retained his feminine form from earlier.

From the basket he held in his arm, he produced a blanket, upon which he placed a bowl full of freshly-cooked ‘spaghetti squash’, they’d called it, mixed with cucumbers and chopped carrots and topped in sweet onion sauce. Admittedly, he may have asked for help cooking such a complicated thing, but Vyth came to his rescue on that one. From there, he’d bought a small selection of apples, four bars of chocolate, and brought along a plate full of assorted meat jerky the team had made.

She paced around this tree for the fifth time in five minutes, kicking any rock or clod of dirt that entered her worn out path with fury born of boredom. “What if something bad happened? We were longer than we promised!” The idea was show up in a month, but things had gotten in the way and they’d ended up travelling all season, in a weird path to try to avoid places they’d been in recently. The end result was that they wound up way off schedule and even off course and only just managed to end up in the general area a few days ago - this was the last stop, to the end goal of reuniting with Ran, after making sure the town was clear.

Thank the Seldarine that Poppy’s face was never known to any commoner in the county, bar a few special regulars to the castle. 

“Or what if, what if he got tired of waiting and thought I lied and hates me forever?” 

“With how enamored he was with you, I don’t think he’d think that over being a little late.” Noir was looking at the sky and treeline for his birds. They were most likely around, even if Ran wasn’t. 

It was the latter, although she’d never admit it. Finding a mate just wasn’t a priority for every pixie - having a web of contracts was more important, and Kobolds had a good reputation on the island. Assuming her parents thought Vassa was just using the closest Common word for their contract system...why wouldn’t they be proud of their daughter contracting a kobold?

The embarrassment was because she knew how Vassa meant it.

Vassa somehow got it into his head that Nadal, known obfuscator and member of a culture that taught children to tell frequent untruths, was lying. So he went out for a silly amount of time, came back with a dead rabbit and demanded he eat it.

Nadal’s eyebrows rose.

“Vassa, if anyone needs to eat, it’s our host.” He gave the blonde sat across from him a knowing look. “Please?”

Ran,

The most fortunate thing has happened! A visitor came to the camp today; a cleric of Eilistraee who was born on the surface. We prayed in the town square (of sorts) for a blessing together and she has offered to help those our existing clerics cannot.

Do not be surprised if you visit again and meet a surface elf. I have invited her to stay as long as she wills or to visit as many times as she wills.

Your friend,

I have been thinking about a surface concept more and more as of late. They call it “marriage”. It is one of those words for which we have no translation. However, I am required to know it. Marriage is a part of many political dealings, though I cannot say I am a fan of it in this context.

When commoners marry, however, both parties must agree to their union. It seems to be a promise that two people are coming together as two halves of the same whole.

While I am under soft-spoken pressures to select a patron, I would prefer, instead, a married partner. A "husband". What I want, I think, is a partner who can say no to me.

If my letter up to this point has worried you, please understand I am not referring to you. Although I would like it if my friends, too, feel safe to refuse if I ask them to do something for me.

I understand if that is a tall order. I wish it was otherwise.

What I was writing to ask you was: What do males like? What sort of behaviors make them feel safe?

She hit the river with a splash. It wasn’t deep but it was more than enough to have her slip several times trying to get her footing, all soaking wet and muddy and still no fish. She tried not to shiver as she waded to the bank and went tearing through the bag, trying to find anything to change into.