"Really?"

Wow Roke got handsy with this one but he was always affectionate, they both were.

"You know, I'm tight with his sister and she's a big hugger so maybe it is an Orkin thing."

She liked Gruki's hugs, they reached into her bones and she could hug back more. She wasn't afraid of hurting her.
Looking at Dove she looked brittle as a twig she would have to be careful with her.
"What? No we love Roke. His sister loves him to bits, you should have seen her cry before he went away for a few months. Lou too. She is smitten with him and then there's me. I give him a hard time but I still like him."
There was pride in her voice at being able to stick up for Roke's peers but her eye quirked up and her jaw slacked when Dove spoke of "sharing the warmth of love".

"Woah? Oh. Right, yeah. Ahem."
She deflated a bit in relief, Dove seemed nice but they had just met.
"Wait..."

The details of the disparate parts of Dove's story came together in Arbok's mind like a broken picture.
Her eyes looked over Dove, trying to get the image clear in her mind. It certainly could be seen as romantic. Dangerous strangers, how he needed her help and certainly Dove seemed impressed by him.

"Did you two smooch?"

@Dove
 
Dove's face corkscrews a bit, and turns to Arbok. Didn't she just explain the nature of platonic love and how it exists? A frown, before she continued.

"I didn't 'smooch' Roki. That.. would be certainly unwise for a variety of reasons. It's just, it seems the version of Roki you know was a lot different than the one I met."

She shrugged her shoulders. You would think someone who literally came from a culture who's faith was based in love and peace would have already connected the dots. But she didn't, and she can't imagine why Arbok would ask such a strange question.
 
"Oh!"

Well, that was awkward and Dove was right, the Roki she described was some kind of badass.
Arbok had never seen him in action though.

"I guess I've been spending too much time reading romance in the library. Sorry."
Again she smiled but it was sheepish and she blushes into it a bit.

"I'm glad you like him, he's good people."

As the children dispersed she opened one of the sweet bags and offered one back to Dove.
"So, where are you from?"

She snatched one from the bag and munched it. Letting the honey sweetness fill her mouth.
Honey was the best.

@Dove
 
Ah. There seems to be a very understanding, knowing nod.

She too was once a young bird who fantasized a bit about what it would be like to be in the throes of love. There seems to be a solemn glance that she casts to the side, perhaps lamenting the loss of something she once guarded so dear.

".. I doubt you would be familiar with it- not many people seem to be: but I am from the Valley of Kirschen." she explained. She shrugged. "It's small, I don't think I have seen it on a map, much less, a traveller who had made their way out there- but I promise, it's there. Secluded from the rest of the world it seems. Spend a few years there, and you will forget how large the world actually is." It is spoken from a voice of confidence, of experience.

".. Kirschen has a strange beauty. The valley is full of trees that blossom into pink flowers, and orchards of cherry trees grow naturally there." she explained. "I do not know if it was manufactured or not, but it's my fondest memory there. The first few days of spring."

"Where are you from? Were you always at the monastery?"
 
"Wow."

A whole valley of winged people. Arbok imagined variations of wing pattern and colour. Some like rooks others like sparrows or thrush. It was a nice image of an easy rural life. Of course it was not, the world was not so good as all that but it looked beautiful in her imagination all the same.

"Kirschen sounds lovely, I hope I get to see it someday."

Maybe she could ask to be an emissary.

"Me? No, I used to live with my Grandma, it was just her and me and the woods for a long time."
She munched on another honey covered nut.
"I went to the monastery when she passed and I've been there for about two years now. Feels like longer."
It wasn't as sore as it used to be, her grandmother's death, in a way she supposed her and Dove might have something to share in being kept from the world for much of their lives. Arbok's had opened like a sunflower when she arrived in Astenvale. She did not know there were that many people in the world at the time but she got over it quickly, new life, new friends.

"Grandma always said we came from further North but nobody's ever found more like us, like me I mean."
The pang hit her, that needle of isolation that stuck cold into her heart whenever she thought about it. About being the only one of her kind. The old librarian called her an Endling, the last of her kin.
Remembering the word made her face fall and her eyes dim and downcast as if she had lost something she was convinced she'd never find again.
And then with a great breath she pulled herself up again.
"Sorry, I don't mean to burden you. Wow, you are really easy to talk to."

She wiped her hair from her face and felt very homesick for the Manastery then, wanted very much to see Gruki and Roki and Alouette. She wanted their voices about her, their smells in the air, their person's close.
She ate another sweet and spoke with her mouth still chewing to try and change the subject.
"These are really good!"

@Dove
 
Dove glanced away at the mention of visiting Kirschen one day.

"I imagine Kirschen would welcome you with open arms, and you will find comfort in what it can offer you." The words are chosen carefully. Not given room to question. Something dark covered her brown gaze, and she twisted her head back to Arbok, with a raised brown. A pause, thought.

That would be terribly isolating. Wouldn't it? Dove looked at the back of her hands for a moment, a pause in her thoughts. There was solace in knowing where she came from. It made her blessings.. and curses, make much more sense. Who was to tell you these things, advice.. the world- if not for your community?

She turned her head, and smiled. "It is fine, I do not mind it. If anything- I prefer it." She explained. "I am a healer, both of the body and mind. Just like one doesn't resort to the shroud for every little ache- one shouldn't resort to such for other issues as well. And this- sharing those inner thoughts, how they feel- well: they help you heal. We called those.. 'moving barriers'. Because if left unchecked, energy cannot flow, and you cannot heal appropriately." she nods with a sagely wisdom.

"... That being said; I am glad you like them. I always have so many fun little ways to make sweet treats.." she giggled.
 
It was a strange ease she found in Dove's words. Not everyone could speak warm to her when she felt it lost.

Words often failed her so she leaned on actions. A bump of the arm with her elbow, gentle, like an animal that gets your attention when it wants something only Arbok only wanted to let Dove know that she was appreciated and accepted.
She bumped Gruki often and now she bumped Dove but said no more of her lineage.

"How do you get the honey, do you keep bees?"

Keeping the topic light was easier it let her get on with the day.

"Could you teach me to make them? I can forage well enough if you need."

@Dove
 
Dove smirked, her lips twisted into a knowing, delightful curve that hid secrets within them. Her eyes glittered with passion, excited and enthusiastic to share what years of practice and the kind hands of her mother and sister had taught her. She tilted her head gently.

"That, is a special technique, using a special plant that I could show you, if you wish."

There is a pause, and suddenly, her face lit up with inspiration. An idealistic vision of a cute outing with this possible student, and then bringing along a certain dramatic deva who's eyes shimmered with a warmth that drew Dove in like a moth to a flame. Maybe perhaps, she could even drag another person along! And they can all gather flowers, and herbs, and have a great wonderful time together.

"I would be happy to teach you, if you are staying with us long enough. When the wagons stop, I will show you exactly what I gather- and how I make them, so you may take them to your knights. Think of it as my way of saying 'thank you' for your work."

She nodded and looked forward towards the horizon.
 
"Yeah, that would be amazing."

Nuts crunched in her teeth.
"Especially these ones, I could eat these all day."

The bag of cashews was beginning to empty in her hand so she stopped.
"I shouldn't though."
Her voice was self chastising but not seriously so.
"I'm big enough already."
Smiling wide at her own joke, Arbok remembered hitting her head a lot as she first arrived, the monastery had small doors once inside but out here in the open she was able to stand tall as she liked. Another reason she liked it.

"So where did you learn to make sweets? Did you study at a college or work at a bakery or something?"

@Dove
 
The healer rubbed her hands together as she thought about it. A careful pause, as if planning the next steps of a dance or the next verse to a poem. Her words picked very carefully, as if to achieve a certain result.

"I learned it from my sister. Who in turn, learned it from my mother. It was a good activity to do in times of quiet or idleness. Making sweets is a mixture of patience and.. an eye for detail."

She glanced to Arbok. "It's not quite hard. Just takes a little research. Though, I imagine as a knight, that's probably not easy to find time for. Unless it's not quite as busy as I was led to believe?" she added.
 
"Oh I'm not a knight, I mean, not yet. I'm only a squire, and really, technically I'm not even that."

Her eyes went out to the horizon and memory.
"See you need a full Knight to MAKE you a proper squire. I'm really more of a Prospect but I do my best!"
A big smile on her big face beamed down, ever optimistic.

"I will be someday though, You can bet your wings on it. Not that I'd ask you to bet them, you should just, it's a sure thing is all!"
The conversation was getting side tracked.
"Anyway, the point is, I have lots of time to learn if you have the time to teach me."

@Dove
 
The healer smiled softly. There is a gentle flutter of her feathers beneath the robe. A nod.

"I believe you have it in you to be a knight."

She paused.

"Why don't we find you a place to rest for the night? We can then perhaps start with foraging tomorrow, when the wagons come to a halt."
 
"Thanks!"

She almost went in for a hug but caught herself, those wings looked fragile and she would hate to hurt Dove. Thankfully the offer of a better place to sleep provided a good distraction.

"Yeah, I mean, sounds good."

Not sleeping so rough would be good for a bit. Arbok had been resting well enough under trees and stars but wagons blocked the worst of the wind and more people meant she could have a bigger fire to warm against.

She allowed Dove to lead her among the wagons, waving at the children again and meeting the other travellers. She could definitely see Roki being friendly with people here, they were by and large warm and welcoming and even grateful looking to have someone else who looked like they'd be good in a fight.
She even picked up a child telling an adult about her being a bear and clearly the adult thought it was merely hyperbole.
Arbok did not bother to correct them.

She found a nice spot, not IN a wagon but in the shade of one. Fires were being lit and the dark was coming in. Travel would pick up tomorrow. Another day and for Arbok, another friend.

@Dove
 
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Good call.

Although Dove's facial expression remained stoic and welcoming, the smile never leaving her face- there was definitely an awkward stiffness that seemed to hold her in place as Arbok approached. The kind of stiffness you witnessed in creatures of prey accepting an unfortunate fate.

Dove of course, does her part. To the best of her abilities. After all, she herself was very new to the caravan. But- perhaps Vyn was right; Dove did make a great Elum. She sat quietly with Arbok, and would entertain the stories that were shared with her. Various members of the caravan would approach her with laughter, sometimes with a little injury, like a child seeking a mother to kiss their wound.

A gentle, ghostly presence. The ghost doctor indeed.

@Arbok
 
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