Two Florists, a Barber and a Bjarni walk into a tavern...

Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : ~ Ingeras & Bernadette had been traveling for several days now since their departure from Luska, and the reek of travel was evident upon their clothing. Luckily, they’d come across a babbling brook not so far from the border of the Black Forest and they made camp along the embankment. And with managed time, they used the warmth of the sun’s halcyon rays to dry up what little clothes they had upon large, flat rocks nearby. So far, it’d been a nice day since the pair of them [let’s not forget Charlie!] had discovered the cool stream. Though, while the young barber-surgeon spent a majority of his day looking after his and Bernadette’s clothing; he also spent a good portion of it attempting to spear some fish in those sparkling waters whilst Bernadette herself went into the forest to retrieve some herbs that were indigenous to this area. :: c :
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : But the gardener didn’t wander off too far, for her trademark frizzy hair was still legible to Ingeras even as she wandered along the border of their campsite gently plucking herbs and placing them in a basket she’d retrieved from the barber’s caravan. While things may have seemed pleasant to an outside viewer looking in – it didn’t mean they were internally for the adolescent spearing fish. He smiled. He laughed. He did everything in his power to make sure that Bernadette was comfortable before they’d travel the main roads tomorrow toward the castle. Her cough hadn’t gotten better, nor had it gotten worse. It’d remained steady since he’d given her that tonic to ease whatever was going on with her lungs. Of course, Bernadette had seen Ingeras’s perturbation, but he continued to smile – monitoring her when he could. Yet, it wasn’t only her cough the young lad had anxiety about. :: c ::
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : mah bad - correcting for myself on the second para rofl ]
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : But the gardener didn’t wander off too far, for her trademark frizzy hair was still able to be glimpsed by Ingeras even as she wandered along the border** THERE]
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : It was that childish realization that he barely knew anything about her! Well, er. She was kind. She was pretty. She cared a great deal about others who were her friends. She liked to garden. She really loved flowers. She had a family. But, what was her favorite meal? What kind of colors did she like? What kind of childhood did she have? What did she want to be when she grew up? Did she fear anything or anyone? However, because of his shyness and ... the fact that he felt like his face burnt up anytime he made eye contact with the exuberant lass – the teenager couldn’t ask her any of these things!! And in the end, the usual outcome was him guffawing awkwardly about some odd off the wall subject whilst he was dying of mortification on the side. Urgh. The more he presently thought about it right now the more he felt like hitting his forehead on the nearest tree trunk. :: c ::
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : Splish, splash!! Immediately, Ingeras was drawn from his thoughts when a fish passed between his spread legs. Taking advantage of this [albeit fumbling like an awkward duckling] – he managed to spear one of the fishes finally! Yeeeees! They wouldn’t starve now! “BERNA---” the victory abruptly ended when the youth saw that the gardener had tucked herself into the nearby shade, sprawled out amidst the soft grasses; her eyes closed. Ah. She was napping. She was no doubt tired because they’d driven through the night to get here. So, going quiet, Ingeras went about gutting the fish and taking away its bones to set out on the already burning fire nearby to properly cook it. For now, silence was a good thing as birds twittered and the nearby stream went on its journey. :: e :: ~
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Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : Blackwood Forest** -typist is derp and thought he wrote that]
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Fîѓéƒłÿ : wh nev)
Isolde : Welcome home, lady]
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : wh!]
﴾Ɲǝʋɒɚի﴿ : Thanks... waiting for me oven to preheat...make me some salmon)
﴾Ɲǝʋɒɚի﴿ : *ponders dragging her Bjarni in* )
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : I love your Bjarni!]
﴾Ɲǝʋɒɚի﴿ : I love your Bjarni!)
Isolde : || Mounted on a portly black stallion, the prim florist trotted through the Blackwood Forest at a leisurely pace which suggested she wasn’t lost at all. She might have been, from on a distant objective outsider’s view, based on appearances. She was a lone petite woman who held her head on an incline that suggested nobility, a habit developed during years of her mother’s goading and coaching to behave like a lady. Her hair was coiled into a neat bun composed of a thick braid, rolled up and pinned over the nape of her neck and her clothes were made of airy summer linen and leather. Oberon was fitted with a new saddle (purely co-incidence, as he was a new animal to her care, and far too big for Nel’s old saddle…Isolde used things until they were no longer suitable or safe.) The horse himself was stout, strong and silky. A young steed with spring in his step. The nelipot seemed oddly out of place on his back, but entirely at ease with her position and surroundings. -c
﴾Ɲǝʋɒɚի﴿ : *Holds up finger* )
Isolde : The straw sunhat tipped over the pile of her bun was placed with intention off to a side, accenting the shape of her hair while featuring a decorative bundle of fresh lavender. The baskets over Oberon’s backside were full to the brim of deciduous gifts from the forest, bundled and ready to dry for the Herbalist shop. After passing a lovat gaze between the trees, she spied a small clearing where she might take her lunch, and a river nearby that Oberon could wet his tongue. As she pulled the reins to direct the yielding animal toward the river, a youth came into sight from behind the veil of trees. He was crouched over a campfire, preparing a meal. Isolde hesitated, per her usual regard to men. Beneath Oberon’s hoof a large branch snapped and echoed around her, punctuating the sounds of birds, wind and water. Her grasp tightened on the reins as she drew up, tension building for a moment before she realized that in this situation, she was well prepared to flee. Oberon -c
Isolde : was much more suited for a brisk gallop than Nel had ever been. Obedient, strong and sure-footed, he gave her more confidence to travel alone than she’d had before. With hesitation, she remained in place, glaucous hues surveying the small campsite and Ingeras before urging Oberon forward with slow paces. “Hello…” she offered in gentle greeting as she approached. Upon closer inspection, the hemline of her skirt was dusty with dried soil. Her hands matched, as well as her boots. A dash of soil had gone unnoticed in her work over her brow, and stray hairs had been loosed and wet by the effort of her afternoon labors in the forest. ||
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Ɍӊɤŋ : *Dusts self off* )
Ɍӊɤŋ : *Sparta kicks Nev the fuck outta here* )
Isolde : -waves-]
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Isolde : rofl]
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Isolde : Welcome home Rhyn and Run]
Isolde : phew
Isolde : ]*
Ɍӊɤŋ : Ha ha ha.... don't forget the H for me 😀 )
Ɍӊɤŋ : Anyways lemme get the veggies a steamin and I'll work on something got cobwebs need to clear)
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Ɍӊɤŋ : ONLY ROOM FOR ONE RHYN!!! >.>)
Ɍӊɤŋ : *Cough* Calm your ego bish)
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : Oh stop, they are nice!]
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Shy : Technically, he was a Ryn, not a Rhyn 😀))
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : Anyone else joining?]
Ɍӊɤŋ : Ha ha I kid of course 😋 )
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : I know rofl]
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Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : welcome]
Eira : Welcome))
Ɍӊɤŋ : Where art thous?)
چМągŋu§∞Ŧяεγζεąfچ : Thanks.)
Ɍӊɤŋ : or where thou heading?)
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : We are in the Blackwood Forest -- heading no where, just chilling by a stream]
Ɍӊɤŋ : Even better 😀 )
Ɍӊɤŋ : go ahead post I need to dust myself off and write something)
Ɍӊɤŋ : Easy enough for a bjarni to stumble upon ya'll)
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Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : I think Firefly was going to join too? Not sure right now but I will post in now anyway if no one else is going to join 😀]
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Ɍӊɤŋ : Sounds like a deal. gives me time to work on a post)
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : will make posts shorter now too n_n]
Fîѓéƒłÿ : if i can get my eyes to stop burning yes ill be jumping in! ^_^))
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : darkness and cold cloth on eyes for 15 mins]
Fîѓéƒłÿ : haha ill fall asleep ))
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : Well better to rest than strain your eyes >.O]
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : ~ Charlie whickered, his hooves grinding in the pebbles underneath his hooves. He was getting impatient and Ingeras could tell. Getting up from his makeshift chair [a stump]; the lad undid the rope tied around the horse’s snout and let him roam the fields nearby. The beast wasn’t like most breeds – he obeyed and listened to his master’s commands. Having been broken in at a young age, the caramel colored horse was a good traveling companion for the barber-surgeon to have when things got lonesome out on the open road. Only just recently did the pair of them gain a third traveling companion [Bernadette.] But would she want to continue traveling with them once she was all better? Or would she want to return to Luska? There were many separate paths the frizzy-haired gardener could take. Question was; which one would she choose in the end? :: c ::
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : grinding into the pebbles**]
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Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : No matter what, Ingeras knew the both of them were going to be friends. And yet … again, the teenager felt his cheeks burn again and to dismiss those odd jolts rumbling through his stomach – he instead focused preparing the fish he’d caught for dinner earlier. It was then as he was finishing up he heard hooves on gravel [and they weren’t Charlie’s.] Sound traveled through air, but it carried much faster coupled with water and taking in a breath, the teenager reached for his scalping knife; tucking it into its scabbard along his waistline. It was better to appear friendly towards a passerby than hostile. He’d learnt that earlier in life. So, when a petite woman with a wide brimmed sunhat emerged on a stallion carrying baskets Ingeras felt all tension leave him. So, an herbalist? Or something? He was immediate to smile at the emerging inconnu. “Good evening!” his cheerful tenor said, :: c ::
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : “Just passing through?” Deferential as always, the barber continued with his sprightly demeanor and stood up after placing the gutted fish upon a plate; placing his hands into the nearby stream to wash them. However, there was something in the air … … something familiar almost. But, Ingeras couldn’t quite place it. What was it? :: e ::
Ɍӊɤŋ : Quite the gathering I will say... Between a florist of sorts, barber and a....Bjarni)
Αveesha Fallon : There's a good tavern joke in there somewhere... )
Isolde : One sleeping florist, an awake one, a barber and a Bjarni walk into a tavern...]
Isolde : Is anyone jumping in?]
Ɍӊɤŋ : Lol)
Ɍӊɤŋ : may I?)
Isolde : Yeh!]
Ɍӊɤŋ : It wasn’t hard to find a Bjarni in the woods, at least not the pale headed scarred one that honestly felt more at home in the wilderness then Immortalis. Axe’s always at her beck and call upon her hips and well back considering the battle axe that resided there was more for the bigger pray. Callused fingers thumbed across the blade of the two upon her hips out of pure habit then anything. Skulking in a dark shadow staring at the animal that was about to be dinner for the night. A nice buck with a six point rack grazing quietly without a care in the world. After some time one got good at keeping every muscle still as death and even she had gotten quite proficient at her aim since losing sight in her right eye due to the bug bear that got a lucky shot. The scars proved that as it was no secret that she had been through battle or twenty. A smirk crossed her lips at that point even as a slight scar marred them now after a few
Ɍӊɤŋ : other encounters but it only added character to that sneer as she swiftly unlatched her left axe and tossed it. Something not far off had snapped a branch and alerted the creature in that moment and the axe whizzed by the creatures head barely grazing it! Curses! She spat as she launched from her spot as the creature was now spooked and ran for it. There was no way she was going to lose this one! Powerful legs carried the Bjarni swiftly across the small clearing dragging the axe from its resting place. Not far off was a field and a stream that most creatures could be found drinking from, and that seemed to be where this buck was heading! Trying to lose her through the darting through trees as she just zigged when it zagged and they did this dance for a quarter mile before its hooves hit water and it was across with wild splashes. A yell came from her lips as she launched herself from a fallen tree and landed hard
Ɍӊɤŋ : into the water just feet away from the creature before she launched herself and solid muscle met even more solid muscle. The slick rocks made the feat easier as she tackled it to the ground, and considering she had tackled a far larger creature to the ground time and time again, [said creature being Loki Kandar] there was no doubt she could manage this. It fought her but soon followed the sound of bone breaking as she snapped its neck. Breath coming in pants she noticed she wasn’t alone as not far off was two very out of place people [three but she wasn’t aware of the sleeping one….yet]. Or perhaps they just seemed out of place because they seemed far more delicate to put it lightly? Considering she was calloused, scarred and covered in well mud now since whatever dirt was there was now wet as she was half sitting in water and on the bank of the stream leaning against the body of the buck. “Well” she breathed a heavy breath of exertion. D>
Ɍӊɤŋ : AND THE BJARNI COMES CRASHING IN!)
Ɍӊɤŋ : I'll try not to disappear XD going to go eat real quick like)
Isolde : whee~]
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : So Ing, Rhyn, Isolde?]
Isolde : yeah, I think so]
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : alrighty]
Isolde : || Ingeras’ initial reaction was concealed by columns of tree trunks, and so it was that the only one she caught was his chipper greeting, followed by a brief assessment under the guise of a question. Which was more than alright, as the very thought of his immediate arming might have given her reason to flee. When, in  Guarded, her eyes flitted over his head to the horse in the distance and around the campsite. Despite her innocuous nature, kindness ‘shouldn’t be weakness’, her father had always warned. She was looking for any signs of others with him, internalizing a catalogue of items as she considered his site. Inherently skeptical of men, the nemophilist offered a platonic smile, shoulders relaxing a bit. “Good eve.” she added woodenly, a barren attempt at seeming more confident than she actually was. “I am…” she patted the baskets behind her “my work is done for the day, but I thought my horse could use a drink.” she added, shifting forward to pat Oberon’s neck -c
Isolde : affectionately. The brevity of the pause between the conclusion of her statement, and the rowdy interjection of the Bjarni was enough that she’d been met with a sense of discerning calm. One which seemed unmistakably hygge and replaced her tension with an undercurrent of comfort… … for but a moment. Because when Rhyn sprawled toward a galloping buck, the momentary peace was shattered. The scramble between hooves, blades and body played out just yards away. The florist’s initial impression was that the woman was being pursued by the buck, but to her horror, it was the other way around. She watched only until this realization dawned on her, paling to a shade of unnatural ivory as she turned her back to the scene. With a delicate hand to her lips, she lilted in the seat of her saddle. Her stomach churned, head laden with emotional turbulence until she heard the sickening -c
Isolde : snap of bone. With a free hand, she gripped the pommel of her saddle to stabilize herself. While hunting and gathering was a way of life for some, the gentle heart of a staunch pacifist was not among those who could tolerate (much less enjoy!) the act. When she opened her eyes, it was to a cloud of phosphenes and the dimming of the outer edges of her vision. For a moment she wavered, and then she fell from the side of her mount, limp. ||
Isolde : -When, in**]
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : ~ Crouching from the stream, Ingeras offered another polite smile to the stranger and wiped his hands on a dry cloth. “Are you an herbalist?” It was an attempt to start a conversation, but he didn’t want to withhold the older woman if she was on her way somewhere. Especially considering those saddle bags she had strapped to her stallion were filled to the brim with sundry herbs and flowers from the surrounding area. “I don’t mean to pry. Only inquiring because I consider myself somewhat of an herbalist myself as I am a traveling barber.” He’d point to the scissor sign hanging just at the back of his caravan before then going back to the fireside to tend it. A few dry sticks were added into the pit, causing the already aged fire to spark back to life again. :: c ::
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Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : With a turn, the blond scrutinized the female from where he stood as she mentioned she was down here to give her stead a drink, “You have a good mount.” He concluded, his lips parting again to say something when … OUT OF NOWHERE! SPLISHASHSLSHAHAAAHHH! GAAAAH! A buck and some sinewy woman came just seemingly into existence. Panicked, Ingeras immediately went to go cover a sleeping Bernadette [who hadn’t woken up, poor thing] – his hand already on the scabbard. It wasn’t like the youth could do much anyway. He had a lot less muscle mass than the woman who was fighting against the buck but it appeared she’d won this scuffle anyway as the animal was well … dead. “Are you hurt at all?” He’d ask, cupping his hands to the sides of his mouth so that his voice reverberated better over the babbling brook. Although, what transpired next was – oops! :: c ::
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : The lady on her horse had lost her balance and being that Ingeras was closer towards her, he immediately took the reins of the creature – chattering his teeth in an attempt to soothe the spooked horse so that it didn’t run off. After that, he tipped his head towards the unknown herbalist, “Are YOU hurt at all?” Extending his hand toward her, he’d wait until she took it and upon doing so, he’d hoick her up in one go. What an interesting evening this was turning out to be. :: e :: ~
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Shy : Wb))
Isolde : Welcome back~]
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Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : wb]
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : oh]
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Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : wb]
Shy : Wb))
Eira waves))
◦Jᴀᴄᴏʙ◦Lᴀᴅᴏʀᴀᴋ◦ : Thank you.))
Aʟᴄʏᴏηε✧Dεαᴛʜsᴛαʟҡεʀ : -waves Bjarni flag to try to summon Rhyn back- Also welcome lol ))
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Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : wb!]
Isolde : Welcome back!]
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Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : oh come on]
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Isolde : x.x]
Shy : *Blinks awake suddenly*))
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : seriously oa?]
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Ḷeḭtḧ : this is ridiculoous]
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Aʟᴄʏᴏηε✧Dεαᴛʜsᴛαʟҡεʀ : Oh no, is OA herping again? -gets out tiny sword- ))
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Isolde : eek]
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Shy : I think it's done more than herped..))
Eira : It's got more than herpies. ))
Eira : Tis a slut like that. ))
Isolde : || Her petite frame had crumpled on the forest floor, side-lying between the horse and river’s edge. Her hat came loose from her head, drifting to the ground beside her where she laid incoherent for a short time. Isolde heard Ingeras approach before she could see, the heavy footfalls preceding the stomping of Oberon’s hooves in protest to the new acquaintance. The barber’s voice was distant, growing louder as she regained consciousness. With a soft groan, the florist would roll to her back, eyes open to the dimming sky blindly searching until her vision cleared of coruscate dust motes. Her heart hammered in her chest, skin flushed with the exertion of a sudden jolt of fight or flight. Ingeras hovered nearby, voice questioning her on her well being. His hand extended, she surveyed him curiously during her pause. One hand rose to her head while the other took the offered hoist. Shaky from the sudden change in altitude, but seemingly alright otherwise, the wilting woman began to -c
Ingerαѕ·Vσurne : 🤣]
Isolde : recollect the events leading to her fall from the horse. Thankful for his interjection and not really wanting to chance a backward glance toward the buck and Bjarni, Isolde dropped his hand as soon as she righted her stance and brought it to her hair to pull the pinecones and long needles out. “I think so…” she answered, dropping the coniferous foliage to the forest floor. She seemed a bit dazed, but nothing was broken or bleeding. To be fair, her clothing was dirty prior to taking a quick snooze on the ground, so that seemed to fair just as fine, too. While Rhys went about collecting her prize kill, Isolde was thankful to have the barber for conversational distraction. Ingeras, she learned, had a traveling companion. The sleeping Bernadette, whose repose Isolde found comfort in. Given that an innate, orphic draw could be felt between the pair, Isolde allowed her concerns to slip. She supped on the dried fruits and nuts she’d brought along, as well as a bite of bread -c
Isolde : as she regained her composure, all the while internally remarking on the ease that the two so immediately presented her with. She was quiet, allowing Ingeras to hold most of the conversational load, and was grateful to him for it. She learned that the pair were from Luska, a province she’d never visited, and offered space in her Cardea home, should they ever need it for a night or so. Small, but cozy, the cottage could serve as a decent resting place if one enjoyed flowers and animal life. Which, coincidentally, they both seemed to. (Bernadette, in Ingeras’ telling, anyway.) After not too long, the prim florist re-horsed and took her leave, thankful for the reprieve and company. (As she couldn’t imagine how she might have fared if she’d come across the Bjarni alone.) Home was a decent ride away, and she still had to hang the collected herbs to dry. ||