Reheating the Trail

100th of Ashan 718

Seated on the shores of Lake Lovalus, Rharne serves as the home of the Lighting Knights, the Thunder Priestesses, and the Merchant's guild. This beautiful trade city is filled with a happy and contented people who rarely need an excuse to party.

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Vega
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100th Ashan, 718: A long time after this!
"It's well posh here, innit?" Vega said, delight on her face as they walked arm in arm. It would be easy to consider that the pleasure she was feeling was because of the upper class nature of their surroundings, but that didn't concern or impress her in the slightest. No, the delight she felt was from the fact that they had wandered through Rharne all trial long, hand in hand and looking in shops, stopping for lunch and spending a whole trial just doing the sort of tourist thing and she had felt no pain, no twinges, nothing. She hadn't needed to stop and rest, there had been no attempts at hiding her winces from him because they hadn't existed. And there were a lot of steps. But it had been seven trials since they'd danced together at her cousins' weddings and for all that Arlo claimed he had two left feet, it had delighted her. "So, about this date what I am inviting you on," she said, suddenly. It was the last two trials of the season, she said, and the first of Ymiden. There'd be three nights, and there were things planned on each of those nights. There was a wine tasting followed by a dinner then dance on the first of their evenings there, then on the second there was a formal masked ball sort of affair. It was the third night which had intrigued her, though, and had been the reason for booking it. "Then, there's a dinner an' murder mystery. Apparently, it's a kind of thing where you pretend to be someone else an' they give you a role an' try an' solve the mystery." With a slight shrug she added, "An' there's an outdoor swimmin' pool an' an indoor one, too, hot baths an' stuff. It's near a woodlands, so we can go explorin' an' there's lots to do. If you wanna?" Now that she said it, she wondered whether it was, in fact, something else. "But if it sounded good when I couldn't walk but now it sounds right dull, that's a'right. I don't mind." She didn't, not in the slightest.

After all, she teased him with the colours swirling in her eyes as she looked at him. "It isn't a sweet shop. I mean, I'm jus' never livin' up to that, am I? Highlight of our love life that was. Most romantic you've ever been." Bumping her shoulder against his she was quiet for a moment and then added, "an' was the first time I'd laughed that hard in a long time. Since the Death Forged Rose." Come to think of it, she said, she hadn't been as mad as she got at Officer Flopsy in a long time either.

Slipping her arm around his waist, Vega hugged herself against him as they walked. She had spent quite a ridiculous amount of money, in her eyes, in Sarah's Silks and she'd enjoyed the trial of just wandering with him. It was probably time that they needed to start to think about heading back home - their campsite being where she meant when she said that, but then, as they walked past a notice board, Vega stopped suddenly dead in her tracks.

"Arlo," she said, and stepped over to the bulletin board; when she got there she reached up and ripped down a piece of parchment. Vega still didn't read particularly well or quickly, but she continued to practice as much as she could and she'd started reading the books he had, simply for something to practice with. "Look here," she said, with a frown on her face. "I know that name. Shavelle. Shavelle. Where 'ave I heard that before?"

Mister Shavelle wanted some people to accompany him on a journey through the stormlands on the morrow and Vega searched her brain trying to find the information. Shaking her head, she looked at Arlo. "Who is it?"
word count: 686
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Vega's skin has a reflective metallic sheen with a red glow. Her eyes still swirl biqaj colours, but one colour is always bright red which glows like fire. She has a bright red glow in her chest, situated directly under the mark of a heart (Daia mark) in the middle of a glowing silver dragon on her chest (Xiur). She's unnaturally warm to the touch
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Arlo Creede
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He'd hated this area of Rharne, Arlo had said when Vega remarked on their surroundings. Not because of the buildings themselves, or the fancy homes nearby, but in large part because of the sort of people who lived nearby or frequented the area. He'd come to town with his mother or stepfather, to help with selling lambs or loading up supplies to take back with them to the farm.

But he'd looked very much like a farm boy back then, mostly his clothing and sometimes bare feet. They'd always had enough but never an abundance of money. But he still liked to look through the plate glass windows and marvel over what was on offer. And too many of them had always assumed he was there to lift things, and had been quick to run him off. It was only amusing when his mother caught sight of them doing it, and then laid into them. "Other times, not so much," he added with a grin.

"A three night date?" he asked then with a surprised expression when she filled him in on what she had planned. "You're pulling out all the stops, yeah? Trying to one up me?" he teased, and yet it all sounded great to him. "I'll wear a nice suit so they don't run me off like they did when I was a kid." It would be hard to beat though, he agreed, that stop into the sweet shop that wasn't. He did, he told her, know how to show a girl a good time after all.

It was nice to be out and about, Arlo thought. Sure, he hadn't exactly been enthusiastic about the women's silken odds and ends shop, and he'd eventually fled into the streets to wait Vega out on the stoop. Too many women giving him the side eye while he'd been propping himself up in a corner trying to play at being invisible. It was just too bad that the knack wasn't one of U'frek's or Cassion's boons.

He stopped short though when Vega did the same as they passed the notice board, and he stared at the name posted there for some time before it came back to him. "Last time we were in Rharne, yeah? The woman taking others for slaves?" Was that what it was, he asked her? It was a marvel that after all this time, they'd see that name posted again. "You think it's related?" If it was, then maybe they ought to sign up just to see. Or at least consider it maybe.
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"I don't need to try to be th'best girlfriend in all of Idalos," she informed him, haughtily. With a grin she bumped her shoulder against his and agreed that yes, he knew how to show her the best of times. "You remember last time we were here?" Vega asked, looking around. "You legged it out of the clothes shop then, too, an' we bought Storm. Immortals, those women in the shop though," They'd clucked over her, asking about him, and them. Sighing slightly, Vega slipped her hand into his and admitted. "I felt well uncomfortable, so I told them about us. I migh' 'ave exaggerated a few minor details." She'd held them entranced, she told him, when regaling them with the tale of how he'd kidnapped her from a convent where she'd been learning to be a priestess in an order of silent service because he was a pirate. But, they'd become friends and had come to Rharne because he was meeting the woman he'd been in an arranged marriage with since he was two and a half. Vega grinned at him and shrugged. "Weren't none of their business. You're my short an' irritatin' friend, after all." Her eyes shone with the emotions she felt, but she stuck with teasing him. "I'd 'ave been rubbish as a silent sister, you know. Thanks for kidnappin' me."

As they walked, she listened to him as he spoke of being here, not liking it as a child. His mother must be everywhere here for him, not just the farm. Every street a memory and all that. Her hand in his held on, but she said nothing more. There was nothing that could be said, she just made sure that her hand was in his, her steps in sync with his and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was with him. Practical things, like going to the farm the first time, that sort of thing, she'd been able and willing to do without question. But the emotions of it were his and his alone to work out and all she could do was stand and support him.

She knew that word, she knew she did. But when they'd been here before, she'd been unable to read. Yet, he confirmed it and Vega's expression darkened. "My aunt's friend, she was the one who disappeared. They've never found 'er you know." These trials, Vega wrote to her aunt. Now that she could and all that. "Yeah, we should do that. Go back to camp tonight an' come out an' meet em in the mornin'?" Either way, her expression told of her extreme displeasure. "We should sign up. But we need to think about 'ow we're goin' to play this? Are we investigatin' or goin' in there assumin' that it's all gonna go knock kneed an' dead-parrot-Sally before we finish signin' our names?" Swords out before they got there or just hanging on their hips, Vega meant and she grinned at him. "I'd make an excellent caravan guard. An' a lightnin' knight, too. What's the name for a girl knight? Knightess?"
word count: 541
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Vega's skin has a reflective metallic sheen with a red glow. Her eyes still swirl biqaj colours, but one colour is always bright red which glows like fire. She has a bright red glow in her chest, situated directly under the mark of a heart (Daia mark) in the middle of a glowing silver dragon on her chest (Xiur). She's unnaturally warm to the touch
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Arlo Creede
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"You're just a natural then are you?" Arlo shot back and snorted with amusement when Vega bumped his shoulder; told him that no effort was required on her part. "Girlfriend without rival or peer, virtuoso fiddler, that's you." He remembered, he added, remembering the last time they'd been in Rharne together. He'd have thought he'd have learned then to stay out of the dress shops, but it appeared that he was a glutton for punishment. And in fact, as he recalled it she'd told the women an outlandish story then, too.

She'd have made a terrible priestess, he agreed. But at least she'd have added a great deal of color to any order that she'd been a part of. Lots to talk about, for sure. "Busybodies and always have been," he quipped, referring to the old women in the shop. "That's what my mother always called the blue hairs. Not that they ever heard it straight from her mouth. On the other hand," Arlo remembered, "she had a knack for knowing just about everyone's business." Nella Creede had never been one for spreading gossip. But she did like to hear it.

Vega was right though. His mother was everywhere. Around every corner. In the market picking through the bins for just the right and perfect five apples. Not six, not four. Five. Haggling with the old men that tried to overcharge her. Everywhere. A little like a ghost, but feeling it didn't create the sense of sadness that Arlo had thought he might feel. It made him smile instead.

"Yeah, that's right." The name, the woman, her aunt's friend. All of it was familiar and was coming back to him now. His suggestion was that they should sign up, then come back next morning. "I think it's Lady Knight," he said, chuckling when she asked about the Lightening Knights. But the way he saw it, they ought to be considering themselves to be investigating, but prepared for things to go upside down and inside out while they were at it. Didn't it always, after all?
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She didn't need to try at being the best girlfriend because he loved her unconditionally, completely and without question, Vega thought as he teased her. Because, in the same way that he was just right, just how he was and just by being himself, just right for her. So too was she for him and she knew that. So, with that most romantic thought in her head, Vega grinned at him and shrugged. "'bout time you noticed, I'd say," her gaze was teasing but told, as always, a lot about her and her emotions right in this moment. So she bumped shoulders with him and said no more. There was nothing they needed to say, after all.

So, they agreed that they'd sign up and then come back on the morning. It made sense that they went prepared for it all to go horribly wrong because, as he said, it was them. It almost certainly would. But then, Vega chuckled as she thought that - because the simple fact was that they'd have it no other way, neither one of them. It was the title Lady Knight which caused her eyebrow to raise to her hairline. "I hate that, an' if that's what they get called I'm definitely not doin' it," she said, determinedly. "I mean, jog on. I am not, 'ave never been an' never will be a lady in any way shape or form. They're jus' prim an' proper an' concerned about etiquette an' petticoats. Stuff that." No, that was not a title Vega was hankering after. Shrugging, she dismissed notions of being a Knight and instead slipped her arm into his. "Come on, you. I'm starvin'."

Which meant that, the next morning they got to get up bright and (very) early. Vega had more or less changed her mind about doing this when he'd woken her and she told him so. Her aunt didn't need friends, the woman was probably annoying and even if she wasn't then it probably wasn't her, that was a really common name and she was warm and mostly ok with slavery, really. Of course, she'd said all that, not meant a word of it and had been bad tempered but moving. They'd made their way, her mood slowly improving. They were due to meet the man at the gates to the city and there, true enough, he was. Mister Shavelle and he was a young, handsome, charming man. Even more irritating? He knew it.

Perfect teeth smiled at them both and he gestured around. "You've been hired to accompany us through the stormlands. Protecting the cargo and so on. You both look like excellent and interesting specimens." Oh, and he had suggestive down to a fine art too. Arlo could feel Vega bristling next to him. "Do you have any questions?" Before they could even answer he stood to his full height, brushed back his shoulder length hair and allowed his eyes to trail, oh-so-slowly over them. Both of them. He didn't seem discerning. "Because if you do, you just ask me. I'll be more than happy to oblige."

Vega frowned slightly as he walked off and she tilted her head sideways, watching him. "Arlo," she asked, thoughtfully, "is it jus' me, or was he 'avin' a little flirt there? An' do you reckon those are really 'is teeth?" It had to be said, Vega was taking unimpressed to whole new levels.
word count: 588
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Vega's skin has a reflective metallic sheen with a red glow. Her eyes still swirl biqaj colours, but one colour is always bright red which glows like fire. She has a bright red glow in her chest, situated directly under the mark of a heart (Daia mark) in the middle of a glowing silver dragon on her chest (Xiur). She's unnaturally warm to the touch
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Arlo Creede
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About time he noticed? "Are you accusing me of being slow on the uptake?" he shot back with a grin. Oh he'd noticed, a very long time ago. But if he'd mentioned it, ever? "I just didn't want you getting full of yourself and acting high and mighty, is all," Arlo explained and barely suppressed a grin when he said it.

So what would she prefer it was called, he'd asked when Vega scoffed at the idea of being called Lady Knight. But then, "Come to think of it, he added after a long thoughtful pause, "I think I once heard them referred to as Dame, rather than Sir. You like that better?" Probably not, he reckoned. Feeding her though, that Arlo could do and come to think of it, he was starving. In fairness he always was, and could always eat. Feed her he would then once they got back to camp.

Next morning, from Arlo's perspective, Vega had clearly woken up on the wrong side of the bedroll. Then again, their nights were active ones and each spent as much time on one side of the bed as the other. Praise be, Cassion. But soon enough her mood was sorted at least enough to decide that she did in fact want to pursue what they'd agreed to the trial before. He was well armed when they left their camp, well armed when they arrived. And Arlo decided in under two trills that he didn't care for Mister Shavelle. Not one bit.

"I can't say I've ever been referred to as a specimen," he said dryly and not a bit of humor in his tone. No, he didn't like this man even a little. "But yes, that's what we're here for." If Vega was bristling, Arlo's hackles were rising. At least he could console himself with knowing that Vega didn't seem to be charmed at all by their guide, employer, whatever he was. "I wonder if there's an Immortal for that domain," he whispered back. Teeth. Perfect ones. And as for flirting, she wasn't imagining it, but then it wasn't him the man was interested in. He didn't think. He hoped not anyway. "What's in the boxes?" Arlo asked Shavelle. After all, if they were meant to be posing at guarding this stuff with their lives, then it would only seem like natural curiosity for them to wonder what they were doing it for.
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He was right that she had woken up on entirely the wrong side of the bed and she was grumpy. Not with him, far from it, but just generally grouching but, as the morning wore on she got over herself. The trial before, after all, he'd admitted that she was, in fact, the best girlfriend on Idalos and the only reason he'd not told her previously was because he couldn't face her evident superiority in all things.

At least, that was how she remembered it. "I'm sorry I'm such a grump," she said and punched him on the shoulder as they walked to the meeting point. "I've jus' grown to really appreciate a slow mornin'" In her defence, she'd never really enjoyed mornings much and she very much did enjoy their tendency to stay awake long past going to bed. A languid morning with at least a few breaks spent in bed together sounded like a much more fun way to wake up.

"Yeah, well, he can jog on, him an' his perfect teeth," she said, frowning deeply when Arlo commented on the Immortal of them. "It's jus' rude flirtin' with you in front of me." He was, very obviously, flirting with them both - at the same time - but Vega didn't notice the part of him which was ogling her or sleazing over her. No, her focus was on him. But then, she pursed her lips, "I bet you," she said primly with a twinkle of mirth in her eyes, "I bet ya he's a member of the Order of Wolf. Teeny weeny never seeny." She nodded sagely and grinned. But Mister Shavelle was back chatting to them so she could mock him no more.

"The crates? Well, they're the cargo. Very expensive, very valuable to my client. That's all you need to know," was his reply to Arlo and then he gestured around. "It's me and my servants. Six of them in total. They're expensive too, valuable. I expect you to guard them, also. Now then, both of you beautiful people," he asked, perfect teeth flashing in a smile and soft hair blowing just gently in the wind. "You are welcome to share camp with me and mine. The servants will cook and keep everything in order." He shot a grin at them both and added, "I hope neither of you snore. Shall we?"

The servants, as he called them, were very obviously slaves and there were at least three of them who were - or seemed to be - Sev'ryn. Vega was beyond agitated but, as she said to Arlo quietly, by going with them, being part of it, then they would get the chance to investigate. Plus, as she whispered entirely seriously, "We'll be far enough away from Rharne that we can bury 'is body an' no one will know."
word count: 487
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Vega's skin has a reflective metallic sheen with a red glow. Her eyes still swirl biqaj colours, but one colour is always bright red which glows like fire. She has a bright red glow in her chest, situated directly under the mark of a heart (Daia mark) in the middle of a glowing silver dragon on her chest (Xiur). She's unnaturally warm to the touch
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Arlo Creede
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He liked the slow mornings too, Arlo told Vega as they'd headed out of camp, on their way to meet up with the caravan. Most of the time, he was up and around before she was, and he enjoyed bringing her at least of cup of tea to have before she got up, if not the whole of her breakfast. This trial they'd needed to make quick work of it, which was not the way a follower of Cassion liked to partake of their meals. Needs be, however, was often the case with them and all the troubles and adventures they tended to stir up between them.

Arlo had snorted derisively, yet grinning, when she claimed that the man had been flirting with him as well as her. It was a dismissive gesture, as if she was suggesting something completely outrageous, though he had a distinct impression that it might in fact be true. Not there was anything wrong with that. Generally speaking. To each his own, Arlo guessed. But not him, and the attention couldn't help but make him feel uncomfortable.

He listened, frowning as Shevelle described, sort of, what was in the crates, and a distinct displeased frown drew the edges of his mouth down. The reference to they too beautiful people, but it was the mention of the servant's status that really stiffened up his spine. There was no denying what the man meant, and Arlo suddenly wanted to pound that smug look through the front of the man's face and back out the other side. He couldn't really, lest he put at risk what Vega and him were there for. But he wanted to all the same.

"Sounds like a fine idea," he said back to Vega under his breath as they went along. Once they got where they were going, had the information they were after? At that point, it was a real and serious question, just how long Arlo's patience or tolerance for the smiling beggar would last. Not long, he figured.
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"I know I don't tell you it enough, but I do really appreciate you, you know," she'd said, when he told her he liked the slow mornings too. Her eyes were green as she bumped her shoulder against his. "Most of the time, any'ow. 'cept when yer bein' irritatin', of course." Xiur forbid that she was too nice to him but Vega did very much appreciate just how much he looked after her. It was a strange thing to admit that it was how she felt - cared for, but it was. Still, she didn't admit it, because at the end of the trial he knew. Or he should.

Vega couldn't help but grin at Arlo's obvious discomfort with the Flirty McFlirty chap. She watched him and when he said that the crates were the cargo and valuable to his client and that was all they needed to know, Vega shook her head. "No, you 'ang on a minute there, Gnashers," she said. He raised an eyebrow in some surprise and Vega motioned to him. "You've got a lot of teeth. Any'ow, what it is this cargo is important, an' if it's on a need to know basis, well we do." She wasn't in the mood to be messed around by someone with better hair than her, she hadn't had the morning she wanted to and he was really winding her up by flirting with Arlo in front of her. "Cos you've got this perfect teeth an' floppy wafty hair goin' on, an' you keep lookin' at him like he's a candy in a shop window," that was for Arlo's benefit entirely, of course. Have a dig about misunderstanding what candy stores sold whenever possible. "An' you know, flirty is fine, an' if the Immortals put you together lookin' like that, then good for you, but why've you got to flirt with folks that bein' the case? Any'ow, I'm gettin' off topic," Vega knew that she and the topic had parted ways some time before, but she gave it her best.

"So, we do need to know, cos this is all dodgy seemin' an' I don't like dodgy." She glared at him and then added, "an' while we're talkin' about it, which we weren't, I don't like people flirtin' with him, either. Get your own, this one's taken." Shevelle looked rather surprised, Vega thought and he made a sort of strange spluttering noise. "So what's in the crates?" He blinked twice and then motioned to them and spoke. "Umm. Well, dear heart. Medical supplies, darling. Nothing more than that. You are delightfully blunt aren't you?" Vega nodded and grinned at him. "Yeah. Noticed that, did you? All this an' powers of detection too. Right, I'm gonna check out the caravans, make sure who's where an' stuff."

"Actually, dear," Shavelle said, and Vega looked at him. "My name's Vega. The last person who called me dear is dead. It were my grandmother," she explained, helpfully she thought, to Arlo and Shevelle. "What?" Shevelle, who had looked rather shocked at the prospect of her killing someone for calling her dear now just looked utterly confused and gave a slight shake of his head to clear it. Vega felt annoyance rise at the fact that, even that just made him look more attractive and caused the sunlight to reflect off his perfect hair. She glanced at Arlo who didn't seem to have noticed, which earned him good boyfriend points in her book. "I was hoping to have a chat about the route and so on with one of you." He turned to Arlo with an unmistakable look on his face and Vega practically barked. "Yeah. Not happenin', I'll look at the route with Gnashers McShiny-Hair 'ere an' you check out the caravans, check out what we're protectin', people an' stuff yeah?"

Assuming that he did, Vega went to sit with Mister Shevelle while Arlo got to find out what they were protecting. That turned out to be three small caravans, plus of course their stuff. The slaves were around, but got out of his way quickly and with whispered apologies. All women, three Sev'ryn very obviously so, and at least two of the others had some biqaj in them, judging by eyes and ears. There was one, in particular, who kept an eye on him, from a distance but very much watching him. When he caught her gaze and smiled, she scurried away, but a few bits later, she walked over to him. "Excuse me, sir, I have to carry some water for Master Shevelle. I'm not strong enough, would you help me, please?" As she spoke, her hands moved in Common Sign.

Do you understand? If yes, I need speak you. Careful. Please?

"It's just in the kitchen caravan, sir." She said, whilst explaining with her hands that no one would interrupt them there.
word count: 845
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Vega's skin has a reflective metallic sheen with a red glow. Her eyes still swirl biqaj colours, but one colour is always bright red which glows like fire. She has a bright red glow in her chest, situated directly under the mark of a heart (Daia mark) in the middle of a glowing silver dragon on her chest (Xiur). She's unnaturally warm to the touch
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Arlo Creede
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Did she now, Arlo had implied with the single lift of a brow when Vega revealed that she appreciated him. "I'm going to remind you of that," he said so that only she could hear him, "next time we get in a row." But if they were expected to guard something, anything, he pointed out to the man who couldn't seem to keep his gaze at eye level, "It matters what it is. If I'm going to be putting my, or her life on the line for something, then we'll know what we're doing it for and if it's worthwhile. Otherwise?" he pointed out, "Whatever you're paying, it's not nearly enough."

He wasn't asking for more. Not in the least. He was simply pointing out to the toothy man, the very basics of taking on others to do what you weren't willing to do yourself. He suppressed a grin nonetheless. It wasn't rare that Vega seemed to wander off topic, but that was rarely the case entirely. There was always reason behind the madness. He was skeptical when they were told there was medical supplies in the crates, but he could hardly disagree that Vega was blunt. As for the revelation, Arlo made sure that he appeared to trust in the explanation nonetheless.

Then again, if the man called Vega dear one more time, Arlo was going to rearrange his face. Although she was quick enough to correct him. As for Vega's suggestion, there was reason behind that too, he figured. And so he agreed. "Leave the heavy lifting to me, will you?" he seemed to tease her, and in large part, he was. But he'd keep an eye, if only from afar. The man did actually have a tent, and compared to the others scattered around, it was well appointed inside.

"Drink?" he said to Vega with a dazzling smile as he poured into two fancy crystal glasses. Something deep red and refreshing looking when the liquid caught the light. "So I haven't seen the two of you around these parts before. You're new to the area? Visiting family?" Meanwhile Arlo was doing his part to look busy, and had gone so far as to pry one of the boxes open and look inside. Vials of some sort of white powder was what he found. But since he didn't know enough to sort out medicinal things from illicit things, it hardly did him much good. The woman asking for help though wasn't a distraction, but an opportunity to learn more, he figured.

"Of course," he said with a smile when she asked for his help. But then when the movement of her hands caught his attention, he made an effort to conceal his surprise. A single gesture from him would to the trick. Brief, like the one folks made when they rapped their knuckles on the surface of a door or tabletop. And then he followed her to the kitchen, where hopefully they'd find themselves alone. She had things to tell him, apparently, so to start with he only had a couple questions for her. "What is your name," he signed, keeping his hands out of sight of anyone passing by. "Are you here by choice?"
word count: 555
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