Breath Control

[Faith Augustin]

110th Vhalar, 717

"No, you're right," Faith said with a smile which showed her slight sense of confusion. "It's definitely a different taste. It must be something to do with the yellow dragon wood." She and Arlo shared a class this season, in the Letter in Immortal History that they were both undertaking and as a pair of people interested in cooking, they'd got chatting in a break. Which led to her tasting one of the vegetable and meat parcels he'd brought and then the pair of them discussing how there was another taste there. Faith's taste buds were incredibly sensitive, she had been able to tell him exactly what he had used, each and every ingredient, but it tasted different, she said and there was something she didn't recognise. That had intrigued the young woman and she had asked, most earnestly, if she could come to his camp and taste his ingredients, checking until she found the thing she hadn't tasted before.

"That's intriguing," she was very much more pregnant than she had been when the two of them had practiced improvised theatre with a fellow student but the cold winds of Vhalar didn't seem to bother her at all and Faith was quite happy perched on a tree stump with a cup of tea. She'd looked at the low log and given him a slight grin. "Not entirely sure I can still haul myself up off there, you know." No, the higher seat of the tree stump worked just fine for the young woman who was usually slight. She still was, there was just this very obvious bump. "I'm going to have to practice, you know. Make sure that I understand what yellow dragon wood does. It is a very pleasant flavour, I like it. Thank you for letting me loose in your home." Manners were important and this was his space, there was a need to thank him. "And I'm sorry if I was demanding or difficult in your space." The salt had not been the right salt, not the one that he'd used in his cooking she had insisted. She'd been right, of course, but she was very aware that he'd allowed her into his kitchen and she'd gone around tasting things.

However, now that they had solved that mystery, Faith held the hot cup of tea in her hands and she looked at him with a smile. "So, are you going to carry on with this once your letter is done?" She was fighting back her natural tendency to fuss and wondering just why anyone chose to live in the cold and the wind when there were perfectly wonderful beds in wonderfully warm houses. "I'm stopping. I got my Charter in Medicine earlier in the season, too, so I'm done for a while." Her hand moving from her cup to her stomach was an entirely unconscious gesture, but it explained everything about the shifting in her priorities.

"I think the only learning I'll be doing from here on in is singing classes and flute lessons." She was very obviously quite happy with this and she raised an eyebrow, wondering what he was doing now that he was done in his letter.

Off Topic

She's using her capstone "Taste Buds" for Detection.

Taste Buds

With this ability Faith is able to smell or taste something edible and know its ingredients and / or composition. This sense of smell/taste is so well developed that she can ascertain details like the region in which grapes were grown, what pest control (if any) was used on the plant and so on. This only applies to food and drink and links with her cooking abilities.

[Arlo Creede]

"Ha, I knew it," Arlo responded while Faith continued to rummage through his stuff and taste this, that and the other thing. She was the expert, far more experienced than him when it came to cooking, baking and in general, preparing food stuffs. But having been unable to think of any other source for the distinct flavor in some of his cooking, by process of elimination he'd decided it must be the dragon wood. Of course even then it was only guessing. But Arlo was young, brash, had an overabundance of confidence and so it didn't stop him from gloating. Just a little. Politely even.

He smiled and shook his head though when she apologized. "I don't mind. In fact I appreciate it," he said, referring to her input and help. Arlo didn't mind in some cases admitting there were things he didn't know. All the better to learn them if he could find someone more knowledgeable. Faith's changing shape though, he had to admit it was a little disconcerting. He saw her rarely after all. Either during one of their classes or in passing on the street. So each time he saw her it was if she'd expanded two-fold. He was only a little worried too that by virtue of being here she'd leave her woman scents behind, and Vega might sniff them out when she returned. And then there'd be questions. He was probably being foolish though, he figured. Women weren't bloodhounds after all, with their particular talent for sniffing things out.

"Probably not," he admitted when she asked whether he'd go on after earning his letter. Sitting down on the log by the fire, he cradled his cup in his hands and stretched out his legs. "It was never really about earning the piece of paper. But knowing." Arlo grinned and shrugged again. "I know now. As much as I figure I need to at least." When Faith mentioned music though, Arlo looked up in surprise. And interest. "You going to have a teacher? Or do it yourself?" he wondered. "Reason I'm asking is because, well, I'll show you..."

Setting his cup down, he got up and ducked inside the tent, only to return with a book under one arm, and a gittern in the other hand. "I'm not looking to sing any. I don't think I have much of a voice. But as a follower of Cassion," he explained as he sat back down, "Storytelling is important. And I was thinking I might learn to play a little while I was at it. I borrowed this book from the library in town. It's about how to read music, and there's charts in here to help pick out the notes on the gittern. I haven't gotten very far though," Arlo admitted.

"Just things like chords and notes, the letters assigned to them, whole notes, half notes, that sort of thing." But he'd already figured out, he added with a another grin, that knowing, reading, memorizing wasn't the same as doing. After a half break or so he'd put the book aside and had turned to just experimenting with the sounds the gittern made when he strummed or picked at it. Not when Vega was around, she was usually out hunting, visiting her father or running an errand in town. He'd rather learn the thing first then surprise her. Didn't stop Lyova from complaining though when he hit a bum note. And he'd hit plenty.

[Faith Augustin]

Faith couldn't quite resist smiling when he was so obviously delighted to be right. They were close in age, the two of them, yet Faith didn't really know very much about people her own age and so wouldn't put it down to the way of youth. He was a confident individual and pleased to have been right; it was the sort of response that she'd have expected from Tristan, although he'd have probably given himself a little clap or cheered too. It wasn't a response she understood on a personal level, but simply felt glad that he was happy with being correct. She wouldn't call it gloating, but more just being very content with the outcome. It led to other questions, though, for her. "I wonder if other woods here would do the same thing?" It probably wouldn't be sensible to rush off and start chopping down trees in her current condition, Faith thought and she busied herself with putting everything back in the packets and boxes and tubs, lowering her head so that her hair hid the grin on her face. That might be something for post-baby.

She lifted her head in some surprise, though, when he said that he appreciated her input and her smile was genuine. "It's helpful to be able to talk it over with others. If you ever want a job in Cally's, it's yours. Your food is lovely." Plus, he did all this without a kitchen. There was a lot she could learn from him, Faith did not doubt and, should he want a job, even for a season or two, that would be fine with her. She suspected, though, that he wouldn't and she was quick to add that reassurance that she offered only if he wanted it. In fact, she wasn't going to be there for a season or two now, anyhow, although she'd be working behind the scenes. Maybe.

Arlo had that look when he saw her that she was growing used to. The wow. That's a lot of bump look. She was at the stage of this pregnancy where the baby was growing and growing and so, consequently, was she. He had a vague expression of concern, like he thought that she might be about to pop there and then whenever she moved. It was endearing, but she said nothing. When she spoke about singing and music lessons, though, she was surprised by his reaction. That was, until he popped back into his tent and came back with a gittern and music book. Faith frowned slightly, remembering that he used to have two tents here. She would ask, but then she figured it was none of her business and so, she didn't. Either the person who had lived in the second tent the first time she'd been here had moved in to his, or away from here. Very much not her concern.

With a grin, Faith took the book and looked at it. "I can teach you to read music, if it helps. I learned.." she looked up at him and grinned a little ruefully. By virtue of him being a dreamwalker, he knew things about her that many others didn't, so there was no point beating around the bush with him. "I learned in preparation for having a baby. It's a more complicated story than that," Faith wondered if there were awards for understatement and, if there were, when she'd be receiving hers. "But that's the basis. Because of my background," he knew she'd been raised as a slave, she'd told him in a dream. "I was worried that I didn't know a lot of things. Including singing. I'm told that singing to your baby is important. So I got a book of songs, but I didn't know the tunes." She'd sobbed she recalled, although she didn't tell him that bit. Instead, she cut to the important part.

"We were in Rharne, staying at the Order of the Adunih. A tunawa was singing outside our room. He needed new clothes, I wanted to be able to sing to my baby. We taught each other. So I can sing a little, and read music." Motioning to the book, she shrugged slightly. "I was thinking of advertising for a teacher. Padraig bought me a flute for my eighth birthtrial, and he's about to be leaving for a while, just at the beginning of next season. I'd like to surprise him when he comes back." Realising that perhaps what she'd said had made no sense, she added. "I never knew when my birthday was. When I found out, he bought me a gift for each of the ones I'd missed. That was my eighth."

Looking at the book, she considered. "I was thinking of getting a teacher, but I'd be just as happy, happier, to work with someone I know. I could share what I know with you, you with me. Teaching is the best way to learn something, I think. What do you think?" Faith didn't want to be pushy, but equally, it seemed like a very fine idea to her.

[Arlo Creede]

Maybe, Arlo considered when Faith wondered aloud about different varieties of wood, and how their use for cooking might impact the flavor. "So far as building a fire, for warmth and cooking too, I mean," he offered. "Some varieties I've found burn hotter, some not as much. Some burn longer, slower, others are consumed too quickly to be of much use. They smell different too." So if they burned differently, and smelled differently, produced more smoke in some cases and not in others, then surely the taste would be impacted?

"When I was a kid," he added, remembering back to his life on the farm. "My stepfather used to swear that what he fed the animals influenced the taste of the meat. Pigs in particular. It was a sort of science to him. He mixed beer, ale, things like that into their feed." When Faith mentioned a job if he was to want it, Arlo smiled and considered it. He wasn't sure whether he'd want regular, gainful employment. It sort of went counter to the business of being a traveler. A wanderer. On the other hand? "I might learn something extra that way," he said. "Thank you," he added, clear enough that he'd consider it.

Nobody sang to her as a kid though? Arlo frowned, though now he thought on it, maybe he wasn't surprised. "I remember my mother singing a lot," he said. Maybe not when he was too little to actually remember. But as far back as he could, she'd liked to sing. "In the garden, in the kitchen, that sort of thing. She wasn't very good at it," he added with a grin. "But she thought she was." As for reading music, maybe it wouldn't hurt him to learn. He liked to think that he'd be able to hear a tune, or imagine one, then pick his way through it on his instrument. But it was a youthful sort of assumption, without being based yet on actual doing.

"A gift for every birth trial. That's nice. And clever too," Arlo observed as he sat down on the log and balanced the gittern across his lap. "I might never have thought of that." So far as choosing between a teacher or going about it a different way, Arlo was quick to know which he preferred. "I'd say learning from, or with someone you know is better than from someone you don't." Or at least that was his view of it, and they seemed to be in agreement.

[Faith Augustin]

"Certainly, different varieties make a difference to smoking, but I hadn't considered that it might in anything else. It's intriguing. I can feel a lot of experimentation coming on." She grinned in obvious delight at that. It was far from a bad thing in her eyes, quite evidently ~ Faith would enjoy experimenting, finding out what would make a change and what wouldn't. Maybe, she thought, the inclusion of wood in the stove, just being there with the food, might that make a difference? Ideas were running around in her head and she pulled herself back to the right now as Arlo spoke about his time on a farm as a child.

"Paul, he looks after our farm and he says the same thing." Faith chuckled slightly. "it all seems very serious and there are formula and recipes as complicated as some of the ones I have for desserts." If she was honest, she admitted to him, she'd never really consider that what a pig ate might be important, but these trials she didn't doubt it. She could taste the difference, after all. When he thanked her for the job offer, she simply nodded her head and said no more. There was no need to push, he'd come to his own conclusion and let her know and that was fine as far as Faith was concerned.

She smiled at him when he talked about his mother singing as a child, her not being good at it but thinking she was. "That's a nice memory to have," she said, considering what a strange thing it must be to have so many memories with parents. "Maybe next time you go home, you can give her lessons. A little breath control makes a major difference." Padraig's gifts for her birthtrial had amazed and delighted her and when Arlo said that it was a nice gesture and clever, too, Faith nodded. "He's very thoughtful and the cleverest man I've ever met." Aware of just how sappy she was being, Faith cast a rueful gaze to Arlo and shrugged slightly. "I may be a little biased, it's true."

But yes, Faith agreed completely. So, if he was happy to do so, she motioned to the book. "So, tell me what you've learned about reading music, and I can show you from there."

[Arlo Creede]

Smoking? Probably, Arlo thought once Faith mentioned it. "I guess it's about depth of flavor, right?" he countered. "Whether it's the wood or the cooking method I mean. Things cooked slowly tend to develop a deeper flavor, those cooked quickly less so. Maybe it's just a matter of how much time the food has to develop its flavors, all the nuances and such. Including the smoke." It was one of those things he hadn't really given much thought to, except that he knew that some varieties of wood smelled different, put out more smoke, burned more quickly or slowly than some others.

So maybe his stepfather had made a good point, when he'd insisted that an animal's diet influenced the flavor, even the texture of the meat. Fat content and so on. Of course most of his diet, his and Vega's consisted of fish or wild game as opposed to domestically raised meat that they could buy at market. "It's something to consider though," he suggested with a curious frown. "I've never really stopped to wonder. But even animals that forage in the wild, but in different parts of Idalos." Meaning, an ordinary deer off in Desnind compared to one more native to Scalvoris. Surely there'd be subtle differences in the grasses that were available. There might just be subtle differences in the meat and he resolved to pay closer attention to that.

When she talked about his mother though, Arlo smiled a little, but in a more solemn way. "My mother's passed away recently. A fever, I guess." It was just that, plainly put. He'd come to terms with it after all, and it was what it was. Still, he'd rather moved on and when Faith turned back to the music, he nodded. "Well I've been looking at charts mostly, the treble and bass clef I think they're called. I think it must be tricky to try and read both at once."

But he'd memorized the notes, he explained. The letters that corresponded to the lines and spaces, that signified what notes they were. On both the treble and the base clef. "I know that there's whole notes and halfs, quarter and so on. But not much more than that when looking at sheet music. I sort of went off to look at how the notes correspond to the fingering of notes on my gittern. That's where I am, and it's where it gets tricky I guess," he admitted with a grin.

[Faith Augustin]

Yes, she agreed, shifting on her seat to make herself more comfortable as the baby decided that now was a good time to practice their acrobatics, it was definitely about depth of flavour. But it was more than that ~ what she was thinking, she explained, was about the addition of wood chips to an oven, on a tray underneath something cooking. "Maybe a combination of types of wood, too. And come to that," Faith mind jumped to different ideas, as always. "What about in situations of not using heat? Could the type of wood used in a bowl impact the taste if the bowl wasn't treated, or there were specific ingredients in the food to react to that wood? What if something was frozen in yellow dragon wood compared to, say, apple tree or..." She stopped suddenly and then grinned at Arlo somewhat ruefully. "I have been accused of being overly excitable. I don't know what they mean."

His idea on the wild meat, though, that caused a nod from her. "That's definitely true. I can taste the difference, depending on where Qit'ria has caught the meat. Same animal caught in Sweetwine Woods tastes different to one caught at the base of the mountains or in the Scaltoth." With a slight wince, she smiled. "Something for me to experiment with after this one has chosen to come into the world." With a very serious expression, Faith explained that her work was limited at the moment. Especially considering her two lines of work. "My arms aren't long enough to be able to reach the patient or the produce." Side-on surgery was not ever going to catch on, she assured him, nor was trying to butcher an animal or prepare a meal sitting on a stool at right angles to the work surface. It was true, she was very slight to begin with and the bump was very much in the way.

When he told her about his mother, though, Faith's expression softened. "I'm so sorry," she said. That it was a genuine sentiment was in no doubt. She looked at him and wondered whether to say the next thing, but then did. It was her solemn duty, after all. Faith looked down at her hands for a moment, considering the nails which marked her as Vri's favoured and the tattoos which designated her as exalted of Famula. "When someone dies, those left behind can often harbour regrets, things they wished they'd said. I'm marked by Vri and Famula." Not the most cheery combination, but then he knew that Moseke had marked her, too. Life and death and the in between. "In situations where that has happened, Zuuda, Famula marked, can ask the spirit of the person to come, if we have something of theirs, or something important to them. They come if they want, only if they want." Faith lifted her head then, looking at him with a much more serious look than she ever had before. "If it's wanted, or needed, it can provide closure, or give a chance to say something not said in life. If you'd like, I'd be willing." She smiled slightly as she added, "but I'm not on commission. No pressure, let me know if you want it. Music?"

Moving on, letting him think about that and come back to it in his own time, if at all, Faith nodded. "Alright. Well, if you've got that far, I guess we're at tuning it to make sure that it's making the right sound when your fingers are where they're supposed to be. I can sing the note, if that would help?" It might help to fine tune, she thought. Maybe. "You know, if you get good, my resident bard has just quit after a few seasons. You could have two jobs at once." She smiled as she said it, well aware that one job was probably not his cup of earl grey. However, if it helped, she was very happy to sing the notes, talking through the timing and how, in order to understand what half or a quarter note was, one had to understand what one note was, which was where bars and 3/4 or 4/4 timing came in, for example.

[Arlo Creede]

A combination of woods? "Now you're just gettin' fancy," Arlo had quipped, with a teasing grin. It was possible though that with a combination of woods to cook with at once, it could conceivably result in a combination of flavors in the food. In fact he might have done it before without thinking a thing of it. Gathered wood to build a fire. Sometimes you couldn't afford to get picky in the wilds. You took what you could get. He wasn't sure about the wood for storage though rather than for cooking. Maybe, he suggested. After all, some types of wood remained pungent and undesirable for cooking even after they'd been sitting a while. Like pine. He didn't think he'd want a bowl carved from pine.

When she talked about the impending birth of her child however, while Arlo paid attention and listened, it was a topic that made him a little uncomfortable. It involved lady bits and other things after all. Obviously he knew how babies were made and all that. And for that matter, how they eventually emerged into the world as fully formed, if tiny humans. He didn't didn't care to imagine, or Immortals forbid envision, the details of how that took place. Something things were better left a mystery. "That's alright," he said though when she apologized for going on.

When the topic had turned to his mother though, Arlo went quiet and thoughtful for a bit. "Thank you," he said simply. And that was it, at first, till she told him how he might help. And he had to think about it before responding. "It's kind of you to offer. And I might have accepted, shortly after I got word from my stepfather. I dreamed about her," he said. "Or rather I dreamed with her the night before she died. "I didn't know she was dying of course. I only learned about that when my stepfather wrote me. He said she'd told him she remembered, and that she'd dreamed with me." The distinction was important in Arlo's mind. With him.

"At first I was angry because I thought that if I'd known I might have changed things. Or at least I'd have said things I didn't then. Now though?" he said and smiled a little. "I guess she already knew the things I'd have said. And she never held back, telling me what she wanted. It's enough," he concluded. He was curious about something though, and figured Faith might be in the position of knowing. "What happens when someone dies. I mean, where do they go? What's it like?"

But right. Music. "I was actually wondering about that," he said, and picked the gittern back up again and placed his hands vaguely where they ought to be. "Tuning it, knowing it's right. That what you're hearing is what you're supposed to." If she could sing the notes, that was good. At least this time he'd know his instrument was tuned correctly, and have a frame of reference, next time it went off. "It's these ivory knobs on the end, I s'pose, that I'm supposed to tighten or loosen." And so he'd do that, as she sang each note for him.

He laughed though when she mentioned the offer of employment. "Two jobs at once? That's a little too civilized I think. For me anyway. Next I'd be looking at houses to by and setting flower boxes in the windows." Still, he thanked her and who knew? Playing and telling stories now and then in front of a captive audience might not be so bad. He and Vega would be around a while longer. He could test out his stories with others that didn't know him, and even pick up a few coins. It was something to consider, at least.

[Faith Augustin]

Faith grinned right back and nodded her head. "Yes, indeed." she replied with a chipper, somewhat cheeky smile. "Fancy's what people pay a premium for at Cally's and that, in turn, pays for education and housing, healthcare and clothes for the most needy on Scalvoris. If I can manage fancy by mixing up some wood, I'll be happy." It was the whole point of Cally's after all and everything which brought more money in was a good thing as far as she was concerned. They had just recently opened up an orphanage, after all, and that was in addition to the farm and the small village providing housing to the trainees. Sometimes, Faith thought, it was rather like she'd jumped on to a board which was sledding down a snowy hill. It all just kept gathering momentum.

He looked a little uncomfortable at the thought of short arms, Faith thought, or more probably at the thought of a pregnant woman. She considered reassuring him that she wasn't due to actually give birth until next season but she decided against it. Probably best to just move away from the topic of birth completely. Males of the species were such strange creatures, all told. There was nothing more natural, after all. Still, the topic was best avoided.

Unlike death, which was not a topic Faith avoided. Not because of the Immortals she worshiped, but in fact because it was important to talk about, grief was not something to be ignored and when people had experienced a death they often wanted to talk about it. At the very least, Faith believed, they should be given every chance to do what they wanted, whether that was talk about it or not. After a few moments of quiet between them, Arlo told her about a dream with his mother the night before she died. It was a very real distinction for him, as a dreamwalker. Faith sat and listened quietly to him, nodding once in understanding when he said he had been angry.

What happened when someone died? Well, that was a rather large question, all told. She answered it best she could, though. "Vri is there, to take the soul over. We don't know what it's like, where he takes us. When souls come back, like I described, they do not, or can not, discuss it. I think maybe we can't comprehend it." She looked at him and smiled, trying to be clear. "One of the gifts that Famula grants me is the opportunity, in very specific circumstances like injury or blood loss, to resurrect someone." She mentioned it, almost casually. "But if the soul has already gone with Vri, it won't work. So, within the first trial or two, Vri comes." On Scalvoris, she explained, when someone died a living person sat with them for three trials; that was why. It was considered so important here that a stranger would do it if needed.They sat with the dead so that they were not alone while they waited.

"But he gives us a choice. Some choose not to go with him. Those with unfinished business." That was where Famula came in, she explained. Where she did, in her service. It was Faith's duty to help those souls who were stuck here to cross over. "Famula gives them that choice. Some even refuse her. They remain here as ghosts, indefinitely." She motioned to Arlo, in his general direction. "When a soul stays, they become anchored to a person or place. I can see those anchors, and the ghosts." There had been a lot of them over the last arc, she admitted. From the man who had died when thrown off his horse as he went to propose to his love, the engagement ring he'd held had been the anchor there, to the father protecting his daughter. "You aren't an anchor." Faith said with a serious gaze. "Which I take to mean that your mother agrees that there is nothing needing to be said." Would that help him? She didn't know but she felt it important to say.

Then, in an attempt to maybe lighten the mood, she added. "I'm told that any woman can be difficult to live with. Pity my husband, I see ghosts everywhere and have to talk to them." She'd nearly missed her first trial of class at the university when she started studying medicine, she admitted, because she'd been digging the ground in the basement with her hands, uncovering a necromantic bone-stash and destroying it.

But tuning his gittern? Faith was happy to sing the notes, and she nodded her head as he said that he should adjust the ivory knobs. "Yes, that's what Pash does to tune his lute, so I assume so. I suppose you need to develop a good ear." She sang, just saying the letters of the note; first a scale and then the individual notes. As he got to the point of fine-tuning she repeated it time and again and she nodded as he got it, she thought, about right. "If you play them all, slowly strumming down from the top to the bottom, it should sound like this." She breathed in then out, then, doing that a few times and then breathed in deeply and sang a single sound which moved from the first to the last note in one breath. It was fiddly, and when she did that, then he strummed very slowly picking out the individual strings, tiny differences became apparent. "You should buy a small tin whistle for each of the notes, or something like that." She had less lung capacity than usual, but that was fine. When it was done, she beamed with delight. "That sounds good! Are you happy with that?"

[Arlo Creede]

Fancy food just wasn't something that Arlo was accustomed to. Partly because of the cost, but mostly because of the way he chose to live. "I can't say I do much of that," he admitted. "I could I guess, figure out a way to make fancier things over the fire. Maybe for the challenge or for special occasions," he considered. "But mostly the sort of cooking I do, that I focus on is what's going to keep me fit for living out in the open and roughing it. What's going to keep me going, help stay warm and so on." And flavorful too, of course. Food was fuel definitely, especially for a traveler. But if it didn't tasted good or please others who might wander by to share a meal, then fuel was all it was. But for Faith, if fancy paid for the good she could do for others, then that was it's own enticement.

What she revealed though about what happened when someone died was interesting. And maybe comforting too. At least there'd been someone to welcome his mother and show her the way. However, when she revealed she was able to resurrect someone after they'd died, under certain circumstances at least, Arlo frowned in thought. He wasn't sure, but the thought of it made him vaguely uncomfortable. "If they've been dead already, aren't they changed in some way. Like, not themselves?" He wasn't sure he liked the idea either of a body laying about for any number of trials, or of someone sitting with them after they were gone. What Arlo concluded without saying it, was that death he figured just wasn't his thing.

Music though, was a less touchy subject and as she repeated the notes, singing them, Arlo adjusted and readjusted the strings on his gittern. The tin whistles weren't something he'd considered before. But he definitely would. He figured it would take time to develop an ear reliable enough to do completely without them. Still, the more she repeated the notes, the more familiar he became with the tone and pitch. Until eventually he was completely happy with the result. "I am," he concluded with a smile, when she asked was he satisfied with it.

"I suspect you've helped me with this more than I've done in return. But thank you," he said. And in fact, he told her, maybe after he'd gotten a little bit better he'd take her up on that offer of a job. He and Vega would need to remain in Scalvoris for another season after all, due to the weather, and a little experience, a few more nels wouldn't hurt him a bit.