I'm Down For The Count!

[Brooke]

Kylie meandered her way along the cast area of Mossflower wood. It was an amazing day to put it lightly. She was wearing a pair trousers that were slightly damp as she had just been splashing in a stream like a dibbun. She whistled a merry tune as she walked along. She heard footsteps, and trying to locate them or whether they were friend or foe, she placed a paw lightly on her blade, but to the causal onlooker it would seem that she had just placed a hand on her hip. Grinning cheekily, she called out. "Oot ye coome, I can hear ye!" She looked around, hoping it was someone who could offer her shelter or company. The long days of travel were beginning to wear on her sense of humor.

[Treble Tiderunner]

Fern waded out of the river, setting a canvas bag down as she shook herself, shedding water from her thick, water-proof fur. Removing a dress from the bag, she slipped it over her head. Briefly she considered why they wore clothes at all, it was just as modest to go without, with all the fur. Putting it down to one of life’s little mysteries, she tugged the skirt so the hem lay more evenly and checked the other contents of the large bag to see that they had come to no harm. Her dress was wet, but it was drying along with her fur in the hot sun, and she’d taken it off more for maneuverability underwater than in a desire to keep it dry anyway.

Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she started singing, but much more quietly than the last time she’d been in these woods alone.

"Oot ye coome, I can hear ye!"

Startled, Fern jumped with a little shriek, then peered through the sparse woods at the path. It was a squirrel, with a thick northern accent. Grinning, she came forward, responding in the dialect of her birth.

“Ach, ‘tis jest ah puir traveler like yersel’.”

[Brooke]

Kylie relaxed her stance. "Then ye'd be very welcoom tae join meh on meh weary way." She said walking up to her and examining her. "Ah'm Kylie McCree, Traveler and Mercenary soldier. Ye'd be..?" She asked, smiling.