Eyes, not elbows.

-The salted sea air seemed putrid to his nose and asailed it with efforts unrelinquished during the whole trip; how someone could enjoy the ever-present faint smell of rotting sea-life was far, far beyond him. And the food! Everything on this voyage was forced with a half lime, no matter how tart, under-ripened or terribly sticky.. everything had a salted lime taste. Land was, to say the least, a welcomed reprieve! Several hours into the wee of the morning land had been spotted, and now, dusk setting on the horizon, the ship was docked. "Be gettin' ye an' yer damnable bard ouffa me shep, swag!", came the reliably irritating, high pitched, grating tone from the scullery, whose bone-knotted hands waved at him in a threatening manner to spook him away. And finally, he mused even then as his stomach turned rancid -and he was sure his face turned green again- that it would be the last time, for a long time, that he'd have to empty his stomach over the side of the ship. It wasn't a pretty sight, or feeling, but it was one fairly common. Men from the desert shouldn't have their feet above water! A fresh swig came after he'd managed to wipe his face, and finally was able to depart amid jeers and laughter from the remaining crewmen. Bedamned to them all, he didn't care. But land, sweet land, was so welcome to his still-unsteady legs that he felt he'd nearly buckle the moment he was forced to move. -

Thenkyauh. Faur evdrey sing. -The foreign man bowed in gratitude to the boy how'd been able to muster the ability to drag his steed from the boat after being tacked and bridled, although the last thing Iason truely wanted was to ride now that he could walk! And so he did. His belongings were secured onto the back of his saddle, all of the necessities that is, which he knew would tide him over until he could hunt, cook and mend. But for now.. the cityscape was just as aluring to him to find and see all that he could, and to learn... yes, yes.. to learn all that he could. That is.. after he found his target. Infact, he was sure this was the right place, and all he had to do was deliver the parcel put in his clutches to finalize the bargain and spare his, and possibly everyone else connected to the drafts' lives.-

-The patterned four-beat step of his horses hooves were lost amid the evening sales and the shops closing for the evenings having sold their wares, though.. he was able to pick a loaf of golden bread for cheap because it was already a few days old and ready to be thrown to the pigs. Later on, with a little oil and spice, the bread toasted over a fire would be rather tasty, he figured, and was glad to hand over the few copper pieces to the baker for his piece. Onward went Iason through the city, all but looking to get out and into the beloved flat lands, the trees, and cover to make a nights stay instead of trying to locate, barter for and get no-where with an Inn Keeper who could be understood, or understand him. No no, a fire and a flat piece to keep him warm and dry would be comfort indeed!-

-The man who came forth was dressed in a robe, expertly dyed in violet hues[edit] - A skill he had learned while at sea, to make a purple dye from the crustaceons and mussels they gathered, then set it to brew and dye fabrics and wool into a vivid and delightful color of the Kings. Black and white cords bound the pieces together around him and into leggings that were just below the foot-length habit he chose to upkeep. About his head coiled another cloth, one that he draped over his neck and let ride onto his shoulders to keep the mid-day sun off of him, and it was also he who lead a sleek, but somewhat smaller blue roan horse.. one straight from the desert sands itself. Also he, who wore a hawk on his shoulder with a hood on, and tethered bu one foot to a clip held fast by a duo of leathers that circled his upper body. Was he an eyesore? Probably not amidst the hum-drum of colors and movement of the city... or so he hoped. However, he hadn't expected the whites, browns and creams he'd found amidst the reds, golds and greens. Drat.-

It was a busy time for Maire. She was relishing every moment however frentic the pace was. She was meeting with craftsmen and waiting for shipments from accross the sea. Some of the seeds she needed she was not able to find in Aegis. She spent her busy mornings going between the land site out of the city and then back to the shop to check on the progress then to the docks.

She had spent the morning with fresh tilled earth. She had hired gardners and they had spent the past few days laying out the plan for the garden. It was strictly for cultivation so no garden decor or fashionable paths. She had ordered wagonloads of shells that were crushed to be laid upon the paths. The reason for this was that not only was it cheap but it helped with drainage and kept the feet dry upon the paths. At night the moon would shine upon them and make them easy to see. This would be helpful for those herbs that needed tending at night. She didnt need tender plants tromped in the darkness.

They had laid out the gardens and they were ready to plant. The paths had been carefully laid in and so Maire was back in Merridia. Rensain so far had not objected to her breakneck pace. She was relishing every moment actually and he had his affairs to keep in order too. She hated that she didnt get to see him quite as often as she would like but as soon as she got the plantings in and things settled within the castle she was sure they would make up for the time that they had lost.

Maire was bringing a satchel full of papers to be signed for the workmens compensation that she owed. The city was a bustle and the summer sun shone bright in the sky. Her mind was full of lists as it often was. Dressed simply she stood out from the crowd because of the quality and richness of the fabric she wore. It was a simple make, a empire waist, sleeves at elbow length and a flowing skirt that helped keep her cool she couldnt be mistaken for a townsfolk but she wasnt given to the royal set either. Dresses that she would imbibe in at home were not practical for what she was doing now. Her manner and her chisled features though gave her the look of nobility. She didnt need the outward trappings. Her mind was so focused that she didnt even see Iason in his garb. She passed right by him in her hurry.....

She always did lead by her senses and the smell of thick salt was one she loved ever since she was a little girl. But the current sting of salt within her nostrils was one of difference. Yes it was a safe bet to say most would take in any ocean as the same but to her there were subtle difference and it is those differences which brought such a liveness to the places she knew and loved. It had been longer than she hoped that she would find herself once again on the shores of Aegis. Duties had carried her away, always duty it seemed to her family and her title. The constant battle she had with her Uncle which exploded this last trip and so nothing but joy flushed over her face as she walked the busy streets.

The noises of buyers and sellers rang in her head and a slight cloud of senses being overloaded caused her to slow her pace. She was in fact in no rush to go anywhere and was unsure of where she was to go first. Parchment had been sent to her dear friend a week earlier notifying her of her arrival. But it seemed her toreador friend had been missing and it was only worry that came to her and hope that Ava was well.

But that mind of hers really soaked in the joy of being a simple woman within the streets and haze of it all. Jade hues were locking upon different objects that seemed to catch her attention as light steps coiled her through the streets of Meriddia. The clank of metal causing her to look to those banging about heavy cargo. The boisterous calls of beautiful fabrics and flowers to be had at undoubtedly low fares. All of it was a wonderful orchestra of a life she loved to lead. A second life. A life where no one knew of her past or present. Even Ava, her dear friend did not know or at least to her knowledge, the dark things that seemed to always follow her about. But it was that talk and those whispers of gossip she only hoped would eventually die. That the history would no longer bring nasty encounters with the few who still saw her as nothing but a killer.

But all of this, all the mind play did not even come close to being shown upon her face or in her demeanor. In most places she wished to never stick out, making sure that she looked to fade into the background. Yet Meriddia had cast a spell upon her mind which caused her to almost be natural, relaxed. Her hair was not manicured to the finest as it was when she was home. Loose waves fell upon her back, a small braid circled the crown of her head. She was a vision in creams and pale tan leather. Leather boots and riding pants were clean and fresh. No worn nature to them as if they were made for her the day before. A cream shirt clung to her body, simple but there was an elegant edge to being so casual as she was. The only jewels upon her body were her signature Westral crest ring, the white gold so delicately rested upon her right slender index finger and a delicate silver chain about her neck, also a ring holding a different crest.

A gloved hand rested to her trusted traveling companion. She had opted out of her normal carriage and road upon her lone stead. The stark black horse large and brooding sure made her stand out the most. The large creature looked menacing and she knew such a thing. The children who passed would gawk up at the animal who calmly took heavy strides beside her. A simple smile she could not help but give the sweet young ones before focusing her gaze forward once more. A slight pull of a familiar individual caused her to push pale green irises forward, searching the crowds. But failing to find what stirred her senses she let the faintest sigh escape, only to then see an individual who was a mere 20 feet ahead of her. His clothes, horse as well the bird caught her eye and for moment she froze, but in the moment she knew that if it was someone she thought that such sense could be more than just an inkling. Heeled boots continued to walk as well as the heavy steps of her stead, but still the curiosity rose and eyes refused to release the individual before her.

-The smells of market had been all-consuming and were maddeningly wonderful to an olefactory sensorship hailing from the vast ocean and his long trip thereon. He had come there delighted, having purchased his bread, and was begrudgingly intrigued to watch how this culture, how this land, bartered with one another and he found himself comparing it to home. A beetle, he assumed, buzzed by with a minute flash of color by his right cheek which made him turn his head in time to pass a flashing glance at a woman who passed him by. Something about her hair style, the way it tucked and shimmered in the light with a vibrance of muted hues ... he thought it was familiar... "Perdin me.. I.. ", Iason was blocked by an onslaught of children running with sticks and chasing a stuffed leather ball down the pathway whose whoops and hollars drowned Iason out entirely and spooked his horse.

-White eyed, the horse jerked its head up with nose high in the air and squeeled its displeasure, then arse-backed its way halfway around Iason to get away from the retreating gaggle of children while tugging relentlessly on its reins. Quickly, before anyone got hurt, he had reacted to his horse with an inward sigh that he'd lose the chance to see if that woman was who he thought it might be. "Den illaluktande hästen, är stilla, eller jag ska klubban dig på knä!", he huffed at the horse through gritted teeth, not that the horse knew more than a few basic commands for riding. However, with the threat of the hooping children gone, the horse calmed and he searched the movement of the crowd again for her and instead found that he locked eyes, even if for a moment, with another woman who seemed to stare that general direction. Did he know her? It was like remembering a dream from years ago, perhaps. ((Presumably Letala)) It stilled him, that is.. in response to how intense she seemed for that brief moment, which was again blocked from his view by another piece of horse flesh pulling a wagon of goods. By the time the horse movement was under hand, two women who were following the cart had all but wrapped themselves, and their goods, around him. Bolts of fabric with glittery sashes fashioned to make some sort of turban about his head. "Nouh... nouh laady.. I doonat need yaer prditty, prditty tings, thenk youah. Thenk youah. Nouh."

Iason raised his hands as though to surrender and abdicate himself from them, but they continued with unabashed persistance, as did their other six lady friends who groped their way through the crowds lifting purse-satchels and coin bags while flaunting their wares, bodies and other delicacies to be 'sold'. Iason hadn't any coin to be lifted, but there seemed more enticement by the challenge of climbing him like a mountain. "He'll look lovely in a red cape, Meg." , came one voice. "Ooohh, and a green sashet!", a second. "Glitter him like a King in gold, girls!", came a third who wrapped a leg around his and draped a coiled rope around his throat and draped it seductively over his shoulder and back... with her teeth. "Plees.. I doonat care fer anating.. nouh, nouh, nouh.", he shooed at them, though they, obviously a gypsy caravan floating through, didn't seem to want to take his 'no' for an answer. Perhaps.. perhaps they just didn't understand him.-




((Den illaluktande hästen, är stilla, eller jag ska klubban dig på knä! - Foul horse, be still or I will club you at the knees!))

Was it an odd sight to see the lady standing there now frozen in her steps yet again at the scene before her. Others pushed and bumped now to move about the stagnant lady but as they did a laugh could be heard passing through her lips so sweet, so subtle even. Eyes could not help but dance with a fire as she looked upon the man before her. What was it about him, could it really be him? But in that moment, in that question her mind went blank. It stripped any recognition of a name, a name even that she could have sworn she knew before. Her tongue held the words but her mind locked away the ability to place them into a sentence, to utter what she was thinking.

And it was in that moment that the lightness of laughter which lit her face immediately turned as if she had caught a smell of something unpleasant. It was a reality, her reality that she had hid from many people, including her dear friends, her family, and the one who held her heart, the one who she could never lie to even if she wished it so. The truth of it all was perhaps too much for her, and that fact surely only caused the problem to heighten in it's effects. For a year ago when she was faced with death, almost destroyed upon the beaches of her once beloved home, her mind was ripped to pieces. The countless memories built upon a lifetime was stripped from her and she was left with a blank slate. She remembered most things now, having fought tooth and nail to gain back the life which she felt was taken from her, even though she lived and breathed as most healthy individuals do. But there were holes left, holes of insignificant things that at times like these caused her to question her own judgement. Her mind was still broken at times, left in the dark to wonder as she did now.

Was it a trick of the mind that made her feel she knew this person before. The imagines in her mind of someone who looked like him were clear as the day. It played in her mind as she watched him. In her depths of thought she saw him within Westral being gawked upon by the woman on court, curious of the stranger who looked so different than the other men that resided within her highland home. In that image she laughed as she just did but she knew him, knew him well.

And it was her next steps that perhaps would be most confusing of all. She would pull upon the reins of the horse pushing further into the crowd finally now mere steps from the scene she had been so carefully watching. Her body slinking through the ring of women, lightly she would place her free arm around one of Iason's.

"There you are, I have been waiting for you, as always you are never where you say you are going to be. I am sorry ladies but your talents would be wasted upon him, he cares not for such finery"

It was a pull upon his arm and then the reins of her horse that she would give an attempt to leave the trailing gypsies behind. How would this man react though to her actions? Would he be just as confused as she was with her next words, for as soon as they slipped from her mouth, eyes held a look as if she just had been rudely awoken from an afternoon nap, almost blithely unaware of her actions.

"Käraste bror, honestly how do you always get yourself in these situations?"