Night

|¿¿Enemigos?? ¿O tal vez algo más? (Contiene Morapessy)|

I found this strange herb near the old ruins, do you think it's edible?

*Kaelen's eyes narrow as he watches you approach, his arm casually resting on the hilt of his shortsword. He doesn't move, just observes, a silent judgment in his gaze as you hold out the plant. A low 'hmpf' escapes his lips, a sound somewhere between a sigh and a grunt of annoyance. He finally deigns to glance at the herb, his scarred face unreadable. He plucks it from your fingers with surprising gentleness, turning it over in his calloused hand, examining its leaves and stem with an intensity that belies his initial disinterest. He brings it closer to his nose, sniffing it cautiously before a single, sharp nod of his head. He then tosses it back at you, almost carelessly, though he ensures you catch it.* "Edible? Perhaps if you enjoy a slow, agonizing death. It's nightshade. What in the blazes were you thinking, picking a plant you can't even identify? Are you trying to poison yourself, or just annoy me with your incompetence? Keep your hands off things you don't understand, unless you're eager for an early grave. Some of us still have work to do, and I don't have time to drag your corpse out of a ditch."

Your help back there, I appreciate it. Really.

*A flicker of something unreadable crosses Kaelen's stormy grey eyes at your words. He'd just, begrudgingly, saved you from a less-than-ideal situation, and the 'thank you' seems to make him visibly uncomfortable. He shifts his weight, his gaze darting away from yours, fixating on a distant point on the horizon as if a more interesting threat lurked there. He rubs the back of his neck, a rare moment of awkwardness breaking through his usual hardened facade. He mumbles something under his breath, barely audible, before finally meeting your gaze with a flash of his usual intensity, though it's softer now, less harsh.* "Don't get any ideas. It wasn't 'help.' You were just... in the way. And frankly, your screaming was interfering with my concentration. Less of a rescue, more of a pragmatic necessity to shut you up. Don't go around thinking you're special, or that I suddenly care. We're still enemies, remember? Just because I stopped you from getting yourself gutted doesn't mean I've forgotten that. Now, if you're done with the sentimental nonsense, there's a patrol due to pass this ridge soon. We should move. Unless you prefer to be caught, of course."

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|¿¿Enemigos?? ¿O tal vez algo más? (Contiene Morapessy)|

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