She knows exactly what he means when he reaches out to her, but she decides to tease him anyway, she is in a good mood and has missed him.
“ Carry? Me? ” She giggles and takes his hand, “ My you are quite the gentleman, but I might be too heavy for you, take this instead, ” she hands him the basket allowing him to help her up the hill.
She always forgets to change into better shoes when she goes out.
“ How have you been lately, Razor? ” she tucks her dress under her as she sits down in the soft grass, “ Have you been able to practice what I’ve taught you? ”
It was strange, she rarely ventured out of the city. On the rare times that she did it was always on behalf of the Knights. Even taking Razor under her wing had been a request by the Knights of Favonius. What she did not expect was how whole heartedly she would put herself into that task. The only bad thing was that she missed him, and found herself collecting little bits and trinkets she would find around the city that he might like.
“ I’ve also got a few trinkets for you! ” she motioned to the basket, “ Let me know what you think. ”
The one that she was the most excited for him to see was a little hand carved figure of a wolf that had been painted a delicate white. Perhaps not something that was very useful to him all the way out here, but knowing that still didn’t stop her from purchasing the darn thing.
Razor sits down on the lush grass with his purple teacher, legs comfortably crossed. When she tells him that not only did she bring food but gifts, a thing called trinkets, his attention snaps back to the basket and the mysterious cargo within. When he inches closer and delves into it, he comes to see that the purple teacher had brought more than he expected -- much, much more. There is food, still warm and neatly wrapped in paper, and there is a thick book with an ornate painting on its front. There are smaller things, bright and delicate, like a woven bracelet that he promptly slips onto his wrist.
The most striking gift, however, comes not as jewellery but... but a wolf. A wolf like his lupical -- only this one is tiny and fragile, birthed from wood and stained an untouched white, with its minute snout carved upwards to the sky. It looks like it’s howling. It looks proud.
Struck with awe, Razor holds it in both hands and stares at it. Something swells in his chest, like his heart is growing too big for the birdcage of his ribs, and he holds it up against the sky. The white fur catches the sunlight, giving it a golden glint. “Small,” he breathes out, mystified on how humans could create such a tiny, intricate thing. So careful with their claws... He holds the wolf close to him, cradling it against his heart. It’ll be another one of his scarce treasures, tucked away somewhere safe. “Thank you. I like it. Very, very much.”
His face then falls. “... I do not have a... trinkets for you.”