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Post by Tirael on May 10, 2011 22:26:17 GMT -6
Tirael gazed in awe at what had once been his home. Where his old tent had been, a half-constructed tavern rose from the dirt, swarmed by workers going briskly about their business. The otter had always known that a great many creatures lived in Camp Moss, but rarely had so many of them been out in the open at once; it was like the woods had suddenly exploded with creatures. Some were apparently new arrivals, though whether they had just come with traveling merchants or wanted to make a life in the newly liberated country he couldn't say. Moving slowly away from the construction, he headed toward the small market, closer to the camp's underground entrance.
An assortment of stalls clustered together in a rough circle brought back memories of the tents they'd replaced. However, these were bright, bustling with loud activity. Haggling, bartering, and the like were apparently very noisy procedures. Frankly, it all made Tirael uncomfortable. He'd come here to be alone without technically being 'alone,' but the noise was less than pleasing. Nonetheless, he needed to bring home some sort of proof that he hadn't just been poking around the woods on his own, so he began to search the area for something he could purchase.
A cloth merchant caught his eye. His last tunic had been quite ruined by his time in the Fort, and the one he'd borrowed was somewhat large for him. What with good cloth being in short supply around the Abbey, he figured it was best not to waste the remainder on himself. Moving hesitantly toward the stall, he almost winced as the shopkeeper loudly welcomed him to try on his wares. Putting on a polite smile, Tirael nodded and quickly busied himself with examining clothing. Secretly relieved as another, more gabby customer engaged the merchant, he perused the heaps of tunics, shirts, robes, and cloaks, wondering how he was supposed to pick something--or pay for it.
After a short while's browsing, he pulled out a tunic and held it up to himself, scrutinizing his reflection in a chipped mirror on the seller's cart. This is ridiculous, I can't wear something this red, he thought, wrinkling his nose at the image of himself in such bright clothing. Noticing another, more interesting image in the mirror, he whirled in panic, the paw gripping the tunic flying to his side. "What--uh, what are you doing here?"
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on May 10, 2011 23:56:37 GMT -6
The day was beautiful, spring was happily giving way to summer’s hot, sunny days. The light slanted down green through the trees, lighting the clearings with pale gold. Fern tread the well-worn path with great familiarity, a small rucksack slung over her shoulders. It was empty, so light on her back that she had soon forgotten it once on the trail from Redwall.
Soon she came to the out reaches of what they were beginning to call Mosstown, a burgeoning town where once the rebels had camped in tents after being flooded out of Camp Moss. She passed between the houses and past the half-built inn, all the time heading down hill towards the three willows. There was a market there, and she needed some supplies for the library.
It didn’t take her long to notice a familiar face. She stood behind the other otter, watching as he browsed through tunics.
"What--uh, what are you doing here?"
“You’re right, that shade of red’s not your color.” She said instead of answering, diving into another stack of tunics, emerging with a deeper russet tunic. She held it up for her boyfriend to see. “Try it… Tirs.”
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Post by Tirael on May 11, 2011 0:25:46 GMT -6
“You’re right, that shade of red’s not your color.”
Lifting the garish thing from its 'hiding' spot, Tirael laughed nervously. "You're probably right." Unless he was a living strawberry, he would have just looked psychotic--and the last thing he needed was to draw that kind of attention. Stashing the tunic under a pile of cloaks (hopefully never to see the light of day again), he sighed, wearily surveying the seemingly endless supply of clothing. He'd never had to shop for anything; merchants had stayed away from war-torn Mossflower for years, and he'd been quite content to wear the green tunic he was provided with. Picking an outfit wasn't exactly his strong suit. Thank goodness for Fern, he thought as she revealed a more sensible tunic.
“Try it… Tirs.”
Flashing a grateful smile at Fern, Tirael took the darker hued cloth and held it up to himself. "It's definitely an improvement," he said after a moment's reflection. Secretly, he thought it made him look a bit like he was rusty, though it may just have been that he was so used to being covered in green. And anything was an improvement over his first pick. Laying the fabric over an arm, he turned to his girlfriend and admitted, "I'd be lost without you." Cocking his head, he continued, "Speaking of you, and, uh, lost, you never said why you're out here. I thought you've been restoring the old library? Not that I don't like seeing you, of course." The last remark was coupled with a shy grin, though not quite as shy as the healer's past smiles. Eyes wandering to a cobalt tunic sitting atop a nearby stack, he glanced back at Fern questioningly.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on May 15, 2011 19:03:52 GMT -6
"You're probably right."
“I try.” She quipped, holding up the russet tunic. It looked much more sensible, and he wasn’t likely to go deep-end over the color. And it even looked like it would fit. She handed it over, watching with amusement as he inspected it. He was cute, the way he was taking this so seriously. It was as if he’d never had a new tunic in his life.
"I'd be lost without you.” […] "Speaking of you, and, uh, lost, you never said why you're out here. I thought you've been restoring the old library? Not that I don't like seeing you, of course."
Fern lifted up on her toes, giving him a quick kiss. She dropped back down, a shy smile on her face. “Of course you would.” Her ears flicked to the side uncomfortably, and she could feel her fur hot with a blush. They’d never kissed before. She wondered how he’d react. Deciding to sidetrack the conversation that might follow, she answered his earlier question, shifting from foot to foot. “I needed fresh air… and supplies.” Of course, seeing Tirael was a much welcomed bonus. He’d taken to spending a lot of time alone, lately.
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Post by Tirael on May 16, 2011 0:35:44 GMT -6
Tirael's eyes widened as Fern's lips met his. It had come totally out of the blue; he'd had no time to prepare, or even to react beyond freezing like this. Part of him was saying Don't be so stupid, she's your girlfriend, that's supposed to happen, but its voice of reason was lost on him. "...Uh," was all that he could say, though a feeling of intense pleasure was starting to well up inside him.
“Of course you would.”
Unaware of a (rather stupid) grin that was forming on his face, the healer nodded in blank agreement. This more than made up for the overall unhappiness of the past several...days? weeks? Whatever it was, he wanted it to go on--which was why he felt a vague disappointment when, instead of kissing him again, Fern continued talking.
“I needed fresh air… and supplies.”
Tirael nodded. And stared at Fern for a moment. Finally, he just said "Oh, hell," and he kissed her back. Glad to take more time with it than Fern had, he savored the moment, allowing himself to be caught up in gusts of ecstasy that blew through him before pulling back a little. Letting out a small laugh, he glanced at the tunic clenched in his paw and murmured, "I guess I should pay for this before I forget." Doing his level best to ignore the looks he and Fern were getting from various bystanders, he grabbed the blue tunic (always good to have an extra, apparently) and took his two selections to the merchant for barter.
Best walk he'd ever gone for.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on May 22, 2011 0:33:42 GMT -6
She picked up the blue tunic he had been eying and held it in her paws, twisting the fabric. She looked to the side, still with that feeling of discomfort as he stared at her. Oh hellgates. Maybe that hadn’t been such a good idea, in fact she had been rather impulsive, a trait that did not usually describe her and-- her overly analytical thoughts on the situation were interrupted when he bent and kissed her back. Surprised, she lowered her arms, still clutching the tunic in one paw, before she placed a paw on his arm, returning the kiss. It was rather nice, and she smiled rather giddily at Tirs when they pulled apart.
"I guess I should pay for this before I forget."
“Yes…” She handed him the blue tunic, walking arm and arm towards the owner of the little booth, who sat behind a rickety table and had the studious look of one who was trying their best to ignore two beasts making a scene in his shop.
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Post by Tirael on May 24, 2011 22:20:03 GMT -6
“Yes…”
Linking arms with Fern, Tirael became aware of how...'aware' other townsfolk were of them. Suddenly embarrassed, he seemed to shrink toward Fern. However, there was no avoiding the shopkeeper--not unless he wanted to continue looking like he'd been outgrown by his own clothing. Clearing his throat nervously, he set the tunics down on the table. After a few moments, the shopkeeper simply asked, "Well?"
Glancing at Fern, the healer listed off items he had to trade: some tea and spices, medicinal compounds, and the tunic he was already wearing. At the merchant's rather underwhelmed expression, Tirael rallied himself and stated, "Look, it's not like you just find these things growing around the forest. The spices alone are worth at least one tunic." No dice; the merchant still wouldn't budge. And without any real experience at bartering, the otter wasn't sure how to deal with this.
Wait...he did have some experience...
"Or, possibly one of your friends would like to be more reasonable, I could give this to them, let them claim victory rather then you. I'm sure someone would be up for it."
He hadn't expected that incident to become useful to him later; to him, it had always just been that day when Sleet bought him for an alleged vial of poison and a badger's tail. And how had she closed the deal? "Of course," Tirael continued, "I can always take these to a merchant who will appreciate their real value." After another silent moment, the shopkeeper consented, and the otter was the proud owner of two new tunics.
"What sort of supplies do you need? We could--" he paused as he pulled off the oversized green shirt to give to the merchant-- "we could get them together, if you want." Handing over his payment, Tirael grabbed the russet tunic and pulled it on. It fit much better than the borrowed one, and glad that he wasn't drowning in fabric anymore, he held Fern's paw and smiled.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Jun 11, 2011 10:53:33 GMT -6
"Of course," Tirael continued, "I can always take these to a merchant who will appreciate their real value."
The shopkeeper apparently wanted Tirael’s trade more than he let on, for at that he was more than willing to do so after they started away. Fern turned, watching as Tirael retraveled those few feet, exchanging his old tunic and some of his spices for the new ones.
"What sort of supplies do you need? We could--" he paused as he pulled off the oversized green shirt to give to the merchant-- "we could get them together, if you want."
Fern took his paw and smiled, she had to admit the new tunic suited him very well. She frowned, she had spent far too little time with Tirael of late. She hitched her rucksack to a more comfortable position, pointing at a small cart with a fat volewife attending. “All I need now are some more inks.” She squeezed his paw gently as they approached. “I missed you.”
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Post by Tirael on Jun 14, 2011 21:33:21 GMT -6
“All I need now are some more inks.”
Nodding in acknowledgment, Tirael used his free paw to dig out a ball of excess thread under the shoulder of his tunic. Flicking the little red fluff off his paw, he looked up to observe the ink cart more carefully. It was far less crowded than the rest of the little shops; he supposed most creatures in these parts didn't do much writing. Most of the creatures he knew didn't, including his own family. He was glad that Fern at least shared his taste for the written word.
“I missed you.”
Glancing at Fern bemusedly, Tirael answered, "I missed you too, I guess. Did I go somewhere?" He knew they hadn't spent quite as much time together as he'd have liked, but there had been quite a bit going on in his life. He had probably been more distracted than she did; very distracted, if she'd actually 'missed' him. Making a mental note that he couldn't leave her alone long enough for that to happen again, he edged slightly away from her, giving her room as they approached the volewife's cart.
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