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Conrad

His eyebrow rose at her name.

"I think we should take the stew and talk privately Lady." he said to Camila. "I have not heard your particular name before but I do recognize its lineage." he said, looking her in the eyes with open honesty on his face.

<Comfrey>

She frowned and shook her head. It wasn't just what she was about to say that determined her answer, but the way that the young woman had shared what sparse information she had. "The stew is already getting cold," she said firmly. "Come, we'll sit and eat. Maybe you should get something as well, Conrad?"

She smiled at Kris, Cemelia, whomever and said gently, "As my mother would say, "Eat, eat you're too skinny.""

Mikal

"If we are to be friends, then best we are open with each other. My name is Llugh D'Allyne. I am known as Mikal. It is an affection. A nickname, sort of, though I gave it to myself. Still it is what I am known by. And it seems Mikal has a bit of a reputation, though it was not my intent to create such when I struck out on my own."

He shrugs. "I suppose it is rare enough for men to honour their word, and to pass by better paying work, for that which is of greater good to those who need it most, that some may have gossiped."

He looks at Darian curiously, doing his best to ignore the moisture at her eyes so as to not embarrass her. "I wonder, though, do you have a goal? A destination? Or are you still running?" He glances towards the door, as if armed men of Montague might burst in any moment. She can see the look in his eyes is almost one of eagerness.

Darian

"Llugh... D'Allyne," she repeated trying out the unfamiliar name then shook her head. "If Mikal is your choosing, I will use it."

"Darian is the only name I have had."

There was a bit of puzzlement as she followed his words about honor and the greater good. She supposed she would understand what he meant eventually. It seem very foreign to her.

"A goal? Yes, to find new territory. A destination? No place known to me."

But the last question made her sit back and her brows drew together. "Running? I do not run, I chase and hunt."

(Camelia... Kris...)

Her eyes widened. His face was kind, but his words could mean anything. In the open, among others there was some small measure of safety. Maybe. Going away from that, with him did scare her. She reached out with delicate hands, wrinkled from exposure to the rain and winds, blanched whiter than her already too fair complexion. She trailed her index finger across the medallion.

"Rames... the Protector," she whispered. Like adding a layer of understanding to what she believed.

"Alone?" That softly issued question sounded more like a check of her own will and resolve to accede to his request, competing with the desire to run away into the cold night again.

The Lady of Aterra was interceding though and while some of her words seemed drowned out in the rush of thoughts churning in her own mind, she could feel the tone and the meaning of her presence now.

The Stew smelled so powerful... and she realized that it was part of the maelstrom in her head, screaming at her, reminding her that she was starving for nourishment. And Bread.

Still she had no coin to pay for any of it, and should she be offered some it would have to be accepted as charity, and offered as such.

Squire Conrad's words were gentle, but he did carry a sword. And only those who were simple-minded fools would do such without knowing how to use it. Squire Conrad didn't look the fool.

He wore the colors of the Imperial House of Faast, but there was no checkerboard collaring at the cuffs or hems. Her own thoughts returned to the clothes she wore. She had already said too much, and revealed too much.

"I would, M'lady," she replied with eyes lowered now, "but I have no means left to me."

Mikal

"Mikal is what I've come to be used to." He smiles and nods.

His smile grows a bit wider at her last comment. **She must be very good indeed with that bow then.**

He bites his tongue to avoid making the typical jest used in the cavalry about 'We're charging in a retrograde direction', to avoid saying the word 'Retreat'. Still he thought she'd said her leader, mentor, whoever he was, had told her to run while he did a rearguard action. That sounded like running to him.

**But then what do I know?**

"Alright. No running. But also no destination? Hmmm. Are you any good with that bow? Good at hunting?"

Darian

"It is a finding of territory... I have heard others call it... Quest?"

The last word was definitely a question, Darian not being sure if she had the right word.

"I will know it when I find it," she said with utter conviction.

She tilted her head at him quizzically and Longtooth turned and did the same. Her eyes went to his armor then his weapons. Then she remembered that even among her own people, it was rare for the women to be counted among the Hunters.

She smiled a little, a brief flash of teeth.

"Are ye any good with the weapons ye carry or do ye pretend?"

<Comfrey>

"The food is here, it is brought for you. Your means are the same as my own." She was trying, really trying. The young woman was obviously nervous and shamed and she really shouldn't get annoyed at her.

Comfrey smiled at her, "Please, I can't eat so much, and we should share, yes? There's a warm fire, and I have plenty of room in my room for you to rest later on should you wish. At the very least, consider me in your debt for helping me balance scales of things given to me."

"And, it's Comfrey, please. The titles are due to My Lady and the kindness she shows me." Hang formality if this would help. Besides, it was true.

Conrad

"As Lady Comfrey says, do not worry about such matters. It is our duty to help those we can. A table near the fire and perhaps a warm loaf of bread and some butter and perhaps something to drink?" he asked, going to hold out the chair for her.

Mikal

He chuckles. "Well said, and I accept the rebuke without rancor. Though I have known men to carry weapons they could barely use so others would think they could." He holds up a hand. "Not that I meant that I thought that about you, ...." He shakes his head and sighs.

"I am making things worse. Let me start again. I ask because more often than I would like I have been on lonely trails and forced to eat roots and berries when my supplies ran low. A companion who was also a good hunter would have been a blessing."

"I also ask about destination as I have come here seeking to find suitable work before my coin gets too low. If none is to be found, with the worst of winter closing in, I will need to find a place to pass it. My offer of help was an honest one. If we happen to be traveling in the same direction I think I might enjoy talking more with you."

He grins. "And I'd not turn down a nice bit of hart every now and again, were it to be provided by a friend."

Darian

She offers another brief smile though this one stays a bit longer. His discomfiture puts her more at ease and some of the tension visibly leaves her.

"There be hart in the morning meal. His pelt dries at smithy kiln."

She glanced down to Longtooth who had gone back to observing the room.

"We travel east until we are turned another way."

It was as much of a destination as she knew. Th Master had said 'far from here', but how far was far. She felt she had traveled far already, and a view of a map would likely agree. Yet, it was not far enough. She would know her territory when she came to it.

"I also miss words. Longtooth not use them."

Mikal

He glances at the ruff. "No. I suppose not."

"But fresh meat in the morning stew is welcome news."

"Hmmm." He considers. "East, eh? North of East should be the town of Cragside. Due East would be the Forest of Roth."

Darian

She shrugged. "This is if traveling straight, yes? For now, with the storms, we stay on road unless hunting."

"We not eat hart for a handfull or more. Too much meat for just two...or three... and we no waste. Take instead cony or fox or fowl."

"Comfrey," repeated the young woman, as though the very act of saying it gave it meaning to her. She nodded in acceptance of the undeserved charity.

"Thank you... M'la... Comfrey."

The Squire was speaking as well, more words of comfort, and yet she could only hear the general tone. Her own mind was lost in the currents of the many days and nights she languished while hope diminished. That she might see her home again, her mother... And these last few days were a pure driving force of her own will to stay alive and grasp the last slivers of that fleeting hope.

Bread, with butter he said. Bread was more than nourishment. It was a gift from all the Gods there were, and with butter and a warming fire to add, it was like a harvest of bounty. Truth be told, she would eat a cold potato under a sheep shed's overhang and call that a blessing right now.

Allowing herself to be directed to the chair that the Squire proffered she tried to manage a smile along with a gracious nod, but it felt as though she more than curled a lip and maybe looked as though she were in bowel pain. Maybe just her imagination as she had no looking glass or polished silver to see herself. Still, her appearance was now a far cry from the lofty standards she once tried to maintain.

"My mothe... she said much the same thing... once or thrice... too skinny."

Indeed, the young woman was slight of build and not very well filled out nor overly endowed in either a womanly manner nor a manner sufficient to see her through a hard cold winter.

"A little water, please kind Squire," she said as she tried to slowly lower her tired and aching body into a position that might allow her to relax better. There came that pained expression again, although this time it wasn't a smile.

About her she took in the faces of those others taking shelter in the comfort of the Common Room. She lingered over the wild ruff for a moment, and when it regarded her back, she looked away quickly. best not to draw the ire of him. His owner, or companion or whatever she might be called in these parts was keeping quiet conversation with another, an armed man though not garbed as the squire. More weapons. The woman had a weapon as well, nearby her. Dangerous that be, not conventional where she came from.

Any of them could be an enemy, or become one at a wrong word. She didn't know where she was, nor who had abducted her. She glanced around at all of them. She would never make it back through the door again. A choice she made, and likely a selfish one. What if agents of her abductors or the ones who hired them came in, what then? Where to run? What danger had she put everyone in?

The Squire wanted to talk. What could she say? What in her name sparked his interest? Which name? Too many questions. She watched them all still, finally taking in the last of the patrons. It was hard to hold this one's attention as though she were the most feral of them all. Given she knew little of hunting, the gaze made her uncomfortable, and rightfully so. In this room, she was little more than a curiosity to some and weak prey to others.

Suddenly she looked back and forth between the Squire and the Lady of Aterra.

"Yes, Water," she repeated, unsure of whether she had spoken this request aloud or not.

Mikal

"Cony, or fowl, sounds great." He shudders. "No fox, though, please? Had it once when it got caught in a trap. Too tough and gamy for me, given a choice."

He looks up as the trio re-enter the common room and take seats at a table across the way.

He looks back to Darian. "So. What do you think of those? Girl had the look of wearing finery. Bedraggled and abused finery to be sure, but not clothes for the trail, certainly. Wonder where she came from? Looks to be some hard traveling too. Lucky she's in one piece."

Darian

"Ones slow enough to get caught in a trap would be, but more meat than cony and fowl. And pelts and tails fetch more."

She looked over briefly and back then shrugged. "I don't. Not my ... worry."

Mikal

"Well, as to pelt and furs I'll defer to your expertise. Don't mind cony fur, but a good fox pelt will get more coin, true. As to meat, I never found predator or scavenger meat to be better than prey. But maybe you'll prove me wrong one day?"

He glances at the trio across the way and grunts an acknowledgement of Darian's reply. "S'pose that is true too. I tend to look at things less as worries. More as...., well as opportunities."

Darian

"Perhaps," she said with a grin. "After all, everything can be be prey."

She was puzzled again. "What mean ye by this... opportunities?"

Mikal

He chuckles softly. "Well, something has got to sit at the top of the ladder, doesn't it? Something everyone is afraid to hunt?"

He pauses, glancing again at the table. He tries to listen to what is being said there, but for now he is hesitant to approach. He doesn't want to get on the bad side of the Lady's Acolyte, and he doesn't know how the Squire will react, so best to wait and watch for now.

"Opportunity? Hmm. Well, let's see, how to explain? I make a living from helping others. For coin, of course. But the chances to help others, the opportunities to help, are sometimes fleeting. There one second and gone the next. If you don't grab them..., shoot at them when they stick their heads out of their burrows", he grins, "they can disappear back down never to be seen again. A chance lost. A lost chance both for the person needing the help, and for me to earn my living."

"Does that help?"

Conrad

"Of course. If you will give me just a moment." he said, going over to the innkeeper or his wife to arrange for bread, butter and both water and wine for the table, handing her the appropriate amount.

<Comfrey>

She really looked around the inn for first time since she'd began helping Kris...Camelia...whatever her name was. It was an interesting mix of people she had to admit. Some were talking with each other, another seemed off to one side. Maybe later they'd be interested in talking.

Then she turned her gentle regard back to the young woman and smiled encouragingly. "Eat," she repeated. "He'll be back with something to drink shortly. For now you are safe here from whatever it was that put you in the situation when we met. And should you be willing to speak, perhaps more may be done." She shrugged a bit. She would do what she could, and help as she might. The next step would need to be the young woman's.

The woman who called herself Camelia watched as the squire left. She couldn't help but wonder if he was going to come back with others to take her into some custody or abduct her. She swallowed hard and then snapped her mind into more clarity and looked to the Healer.

"Why would you do this? Help me like this, I mean."

Darian

Her brow wrinkled. "Afraid to hunt? There be things that require much skill and respect..."

She shook her head. She did not understand.

"Ah, yes. A way to provide for Pack. I hunt."

<Comfrey>

She nodded again to the stew in case she hadn't been understood the first time. She's exhausted, and hungry, and cold...probably isn't thinking right.

"Would I not wish aid if I was in need? Are there not times we all are? I have, you do not." Comfrey had a hard time finding the right words. Even if she didn't serve the Lady, she would help those in need. Mother and Father put up with her crow long enough when she found it and brought it home to tend. It was just her.

She smiled and her plain features lit slightly. "I could mumble things at you I suppose, but truly? It's the right thing to do."

The young woman you called herself Camelia followed the nod towards the stew and it was desperately desired. But still she listened. Already Squire Conrad was coming back with bread she hoped and she could see he carried a flagon and a wooden cup.

The Lady's words seemed genuine. The right thing to do. She understood that. All she had to do was believe the words she heard. All she had to do was trust that this was charity without a cost to be sought sooner or later.

Finally her hunger won out and she quickly and rather unceremoniously snatched up the bowl, fumbling at the spoon. Bringing both of them to meet her mouth she shoveled the bites in greedily, nearly choking herself as she did.