Private Tales Lost In Translation

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Gunner wasn't too sure what she had against Ballacea. Did Dryads and Horses have some kind of long-standing rivalry that he didn't know about? He felt like he would have been taught something like that in the academy. Of course, that implied he ever paid much attention in school, which he didn't. Valentine was extremely talented at daydreaming, but only when he shouldn't be.

For her part, the large brown horse beneath them had been as gentle as can be with the obviously terrified creature. The heat of her body pressed tightly against his back as they rode told him that no amount of comforting was going to make this any easier for her to acclimate to, he only hoped that she could dry her tears before they reached the village now growing on the horizon, the smoke and sounds of civilization filling the air wasn't likely to calm her though, if last night was any indication.

Oh well, she could just cling to him then. If Gunner was being honest, he didn't mind it a bit...

Before long, Gunner's horse was slowing her gait as they finally passed under the small wooden archway that made for a gate. This wasn't Valentine's first foray into this small village, Yoresun he believed it was called. It was mainly a spot for merchants to shack up for the night on their way down the path to the bigger settlements of Falwood, namely the Elven Fal'Addas. Its spot on the way made it a prime location for smaller shops selling basic goods to capitalize on the traffic, however, and Yoresun had become a rather nifty spot for affordable goods.

It was the tailor that Gunner guided them to first, but he had a hunch that it wouldn't be so simple as walking in and having her try on outfits. She was still trembling against his back in fear, and one of Gunner's hands left the reigns to move to one of her own, resting against it comfortingly as they stopped in front of the gaudily colored building, bright lavender walls that stood out against the wooden and stone hues of the rest of the town. None of the people on the main road that went through the center of town, mostly humans and elves, hadn't paid them any mind, and that was fine by him.

Sliding a leg over the side and dropping to the ground, he turned and beckoned her off of his horse. She didn't like civilization, but he'd bet she wanted to be off of the horse even more.

There was a skinny, prim and proper dressed human standing in the doorway watching them, purple vest and frilly laces at his cuffs. Gunner loathed the tailor's fashion sense, but then they didn't have to listen to his opinion, and some of his wares weren't half bad.

Chaeme
 
She held on tight, afraid that with each jostling step that she was going to be cast down into the dirt. It was terrifying, to say the very least, but she was also conscious of the fact that the person she was hanging onto like a tree in a strong wind was also very mortal. Fae tended to be a little stronger than they realized and she didn’t know what would happen if he died because she crushed his ribcage in fear. Wait until someone less kind came to pick up her heartwood?

No. She couldn't risk that. This one had been nice so far, and she couldn't risk changing hands again. She struggled to catch her breath and loosened her embrace. Her hands, however, remained tightly bunched in his clothing, purchase that gave her a greater sense of security as she got the hang of the motion of the horse’s steps. There was, at least, a rhythm to it.

Chaeme had enough sense to realize that a crying woman might be a concern to the general public. So as they reached the outskirts, the dryad wiped her tears and sniffled noisily. She quieted and, still trembling, gave her riding companion a little room between them. A glamour settled over her as well, concealing her fae nature before the first mortals came into sight.

His hand over hers made her jolt, drawing in a sharp hiss of surprise, and she nearly pulled away. But it was comforting. It was kindness. Chaeme looked at the back of his head in bewilderment.

When her human brought them to a stop and dismounted, he would turn around to see not a green woman with amaranth eyes and hair the color of grass in deep shadows. In Chaeme’s place sat an elf of unassuming colors. She had rich gold skin, black hair, and honey gold eyes. She still looked the same, half wild and eyes furtively taking it all in, but she didn’t look like a dryad anymore. The glamour was faultless, from the fine hairs of her dark brows down to the pale pink half-moons cuticles as she extended a hand out to take the offered aid.

She dismounted awkwardly, but there was a natural grace to her movements -- not unlike a frightened doe as she danced nervously closer to her human and grabbed a fistful of his sleeve. Surrounded by foreign structures and near so many strangers, he had suddenly become the only thing she could relatively trust.

"Klu'utshï äsh," she said feebly. Her eyes flitted nervously to her human. Do not leave me.
 
Gunner had undoubtedly been worried about the impression he'd make riding in with a sobbing green-skinned woman who appeared to be with him against her will, but what choice had he? If anything had been made clear over the last day, it was that even if Valentine left her alone, she wouldn't be able to take care of herself, not when she'd evidently been exiled from her home.

At the same time, the young human couldn't exactly blame her for being frightened either. He still wasn't sure what exactly that block of wood was, but his new friend seemed leashed to it in a way that he couldn't see. That was a terrifying idea, that anybody who found a specific object could more or less rule you. Well, he had the block of wood tucked in between his shirt and the leather armor he wore over it, snug and safe. Nobody was getting it from him.

Somewhat surprisingly, the soft sobs from behind him seemed to slow by the time they were arriving at the colorfully decorated tailor's shop. The hand he held in his own was warm, pressing against his palm as if seeking further assurance. The poor girl was like a lost child... With a huff from the horse they'd came to a stop, Gunner swinging his legs off of the horse and dropping to the ground before turning to offer his companion a hand. It wasn't the green-hued beauty he'd come to know that waited for his eyes, however.

She'd changed somehow. She looked like no more than an ordinary elf, albeit an absolutely stunning one. He wondered if perhaps the food he'd eaten had been spoiled, if he was hallucinating somehow, but the sun glowing against her golden skin told him it was all too real. "What...?" He mouthed quietly as she took his hand and carefully lowered to the ground. Quickly she gripped his sleeve and pressed close to him, muttering something in that odd dialect as she looked up at him.

Fear. That was what filled her, but there was something else now too. She was trusting him. She believed that he didn't want to hurt her. This disguise was less for her sake than it was for his own.

Gunner felt an odd warmth bubble up in his heart at the realization. An arm wrapped around her gently, and he smiled as if to assure her that he wasn't going anywhere, before turning and sliding his hand into hers as they stepped into the tailors.

The inside of the building was almost as gaudy as the outside, brightly colored clothes hung on every wall, with lines running across the ceiling with even more items dangling down like oddly shaped curtains. It resembled less of a tailor shop and more of some garish carnival of colors that served only to assault the eyes, but truly the only fault of the store was poor organization; the individual wares were quite quality. Gunner was certain they could find something she liked.

An elf, much younger than the old one who'd sent Gunner on this strange journey in the first place, shuffled out from behind a circular rack of frilled dresses, his eyes lighting up when he spots Gunner and Chaeme. "Mr. Valentine!" He chirps, clapping his hands together as he takes a step forward. Gunner squeezes her hand a bit tighter, again in reassurance. "Always a pleasure to see you, friend! And this lovely young creature on your arm.... Oh! Treating a lady?"

The tailor had long black hair tied into two separate tails, one over each shoulder. His purple robes were splashed with patches of gold haphazardly, and it all clashed with his deep emerald eyes. "Erm... yes! She unfortunately found herself the victim of a roadside bandit. She has nothing at all to wear, and I was hoping you could help me one more time, Mr. Viente."

This "Viente" fellow had given Gunner his armor and clothes at very little cost, having felt bad for the young down-on-his-luck runaway. Now, he chewed on the inside of his cheek in thought, bright eyes roaming over Chaeme's lovely form. "Oh, you're lucky I'm such a sucker for a sob story. Come, let's find something more suitable for the young woman."

Chaeme
 
Whether or not he understood, her body language must have been clear enough. He smiled, put an arm around her, and took her hand. The dryad looked up momentarily, her gold eyes wide as the full moons as they held his gaze. There was a moment of comfort and understanding. She felt safe.

Chaeme looked away, a soft blush on her cheeks as she allowed him to lead her toward the building. As she had almost no context for structures and design, the bright colors seemed fun and playful in a way that the other buildings were stark and uncanny. The interior was just as colorful and crowded with… stuff. Chaeme's eyes darted around nervously in front, beside, and behind her. It was a lot to absorb.

Fabric. More clothes? She let go of her human's sleeve long enough to reach out and touch one of the hanging strips of color. The fabric was sheer and stiff, patterned like vines and flowers. She'd never seen anything like it.

Hey hand had no sooner touched the lace than the elf appeared. The dryad gasped and a shiver of fright shot through her. Her human squeezed her hand, but she instinctively stepped behind him, using him to hide her as she had the trees in the forest.

An elf. As brightly decorated as a bird on display for a mate and just as vocal. She peered around her human curiously. He didn't act afraid of the elf. Rather, they seemed quite friendly.

Chaeme ventured bravely out from behind her human and relaxed. He had not yet done anything to make her feel like he would endanger her; she resolved to trust his judgment.
 
Chal'na Viente had been dressing people for hundreds of years now, this little shop in Yoresun was simply his latest venture, having only been around for a handful of decades. In actuality, this was a rather drastic decrease in scope from his usual fare. For much of his career he'd worked in dressing nobles and royals, arranging outfits for grand balls and upscale parties of the highest quality. It was difficult, but Chal'na had never had to worry about going broke, that much was certain. Viente found great fame and wealth in using his talent to paint the good life with his art.

Alas, he'd grown quite bored with the aristocratic side of Arethil. Nothing ever changed or evolved among the rich. Attitudes remained stiff, fashion stagnated on the frilly and over-complex, and the parties had long since run out of ideas and themes for him to work with. It was with little fanfare that he'd retired, opening up a shop in the little merchant village of Yoresun where he could ply his craft on the less fortunate, turning even the scrappiest, dirtiest of peasants into figures of pure beauty.

In that green-fleshed figure behind Mr. Valentine, Chal'na Viente saw an incredible canvas to work upon. He was upon her in the blink of an eye, striding ever so confidently towards the pair of them with a long marked piece of tape in his hands. Quickly Gunner stepped in between the two of them, speaking in a hushed tone. "Mr. Viente, be gentle with her. She doesn't seem to speak any language I can understand, and she's very frightened..."

Chal'na took a pause, before flashing another smile at Gunner. "Oh, don't you worry about it, Mr. Valentine. She just has to stand there and look gorgeous. I won't touch a hair on her head." Viente ends by aiming the bright grin towards Chaeme, and Gunner squeezes her hand one more time, signaling her that it would be alright. It seemed to be working out so far. Chal'na set about taking Chaeme's measurements, the only thing that ever brushed her was the tape itself as the tailor hummed a warm little tune under his breath. After a few minutes, he stood up and rolled the tape with a satisfied hum.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it dear?" A click of the tongue and the smooth-featured elf spun on his heel to shuffle about the cluttered shelves and racks, retrieving any items of an appropriate size and suitable color and style. "Now, I am doing this for free, and usually I wouldn't offer you very much..." This Mr. Valentine was quickly costing Chal'na some good money, but then again, he had plenty to give. Isn't this sense of helping what he'd wanted? "But your darling friend is simply too divine to cheap out on."

Re-emerging from the jungle of garments that littered the store, Chal'na wheeled out a smaller selection on a small wooden cart with wheels and a rod across the top. Clothes of all shapes, all types and colors hung in a cacophony of fine wear. "So for our good lady, I'm thinking something thin, light and airy, but not too revealing...." Gunner held out his arms as Chal'na began to pile more and more into his arms, until it nearly reached his chin. "There, that should keep you well dressed for some time. Now, I'm only giving you these with the promise that she comes back to show me the ones that she likes best at a later time, understand?" Normally he'd outfit her himself, but she seemed more than ready to leave. Dumbfounded, Gunner nods.

"Good! Now, hurry along and get her somewhere she isn't shivering and scared. Really, Mr. Valentine, where are your manners? Dragging the poor thing here first." Viente continued to tutter on as he ushered the both of them back out to their horse.

The whole experience had been so ridiculous that for a moment Gunner just stood there. Finally, he looked down at Chaeme, his arms still full of her new clothes, and burst out into laughter at the absurdity of it all. Time to load up and move on.

Chaeme
 
The elf approached and her human stepped between them, from which Chaeme took a cue to take shelter behind him once more. It was brief before he urged her back out and, with another squeeze of her hand, turned her over to the elf.

The whole affair was very strange. Chaeme trusted him because her human appeared to trust him, but he kept putting some small thin vine around her. The dryad, disguised as she might have been in her golden features, acted a stranger to these foreign customs. She turned and frowned at the tape and watched the elf like he would spring up to bite her any second -- and then she'd have the satisfaction of telling her human I told you so.

He did not bite and besides, her human wouldn't have understood her.

The moment she was released from the body ritual, Chaeme hurried back to the safety of standing behind her human. The elf busied himself about the place gathering a heap of things which he brought to her human. He then gave them to him. Was this trade? What was her human giving this man in return for these things?

Whatever it was would remain a mystery to the dryad. She heard naught but babbling nonsense in their language, but knew a goodbye when she saw it. Very confused about the whole ordeal, she managed to smile to the elf as he ushered them outside.

"Ä dïfo bïn. Jïha." Thank you. Goodbye. Chaeme waved. She had always been kind to visitors to her grove when they were kind to her. She supposed a friend of her kind human was also deserving of her manners, whether he understood her or not. Even if she was hopelessly confused about what was happening.

Except then they were left standing outside, his arms full of things and her just looking up at him expectantly. He burst out laughing quite suddenly and Chaeme jumped. After a moment she looked at the colorful building and smiled, her smaller, much more confused laughter echoing his. She had no idea what was going on.
 
What Gunner found so funny wasn't just that they'd walked into a house that looked like a rainbow had exploded all over its surface, or that he'd been ushered out with a pile of clothes that suitably matched those colors and raised nearly over his head. No, it was just how normal it all was. Sure, Chaeme had been scared, but Gunner had forgotten she was different than any other girl until he heard the gibberish leave her mouth as they departed.

The soft sound of laughter from her lips, while obviously not so much at the situation so much as at him, put Gunner in even higher spirits. To think he'd thought that this wouldn't work, that he wouldn't be able to handle her because of their differences? It all seemed stupid now, to be so worried. Nodding back towards the main road that ran down the center of Yoresun before stepping down from the elevated entryway of the tailor's shop and back down onto the dirt. This time, Gunner didn't feel a need to press the wooden cube tight against his person; he trusted she wouldn't be far behind.

The coins in Valentine's pocket were few, though. If they were going to make it, he'd need to pick up a new job, and fast. He couldn't check thanks to the mountain of clothes in his arms, but he was fairly certain he had enough for a room for the night and dinner. Should be a board somewhere in town with some bounties, too. So, with a very loose and in no way reliable plan floating around in his head, the scruffy bounty-hunter leads his Dryad friend down the road to the inn, with minimal stares thanks to Chaeme's glamour, thankfully.

That didn't stop those eating in the tavern that made up the ground floor of the Yoresun Inn from giving him looks though. A ragged looking human in the middle of Falwood, with a barely dressed elf girl behind him and a mountain of women's clothing in his arms, he was certainly a sight to see. Sure enough, Gunner found just enough in his pocket to pay for a bed and a meal, and before long the both of them were ascending the staircase behind the bar to their room.

It was far from glamorous accommodations, but the bed looked nice and soft, and there was a bath behind a partition on the wall. The soft glow of torchlight on the ceiling lit the room, a metallic rod with three spots for torches to be inserted and lit, there was a large window looking out to the forest, and a long cushion on the floor in front of it.

It was that cushion that Gunner finally dropped the clothes onto with a gasp of air before sitting back on the bed. "Damn. You wouldn't think fabric could be so heavy, but..." He shook his head slowly, turning to look at Chaeme. At least here she had some privacy, away from the strangers. With a wave of his hand, he motions to the clothes. "Have at it!"

Chaeme
 
She didn't hang onto his sleeve but she followed close behind as they made their way deeper into the town. Chaeme was not sorry to leave the horse behind, but she hesitated on the street in front of the building he led her to. She watched him walk up to the door, let her fearful gaze scan up the wall. It was tall, with windows above other windows.

As being left in the street was more frightening than going inside, she was close on his heels. Closer still when they got inside and there were people. So many people! Chaeme walked near enough that she literally stepped on his heels when he slowed down. Her head was on a swivel. Which person did she watch? A chill lit up her spine every time she met the gaze of a stranger. Humans and elves. There were no fae here. She was glad to be out of the room with all of its smells and eyes.

The stairs were a struggle. Chaeme gripped the railing and breathed deeply to calm herself as she climbed higher and higher. Her human was at the top before she had made it halfway. She was trembling when she reached the top and was too afraid to look back down, once more chasing after him to walk as close as possible behind him.

By the time they reached a room, she no longer cared that it was high up and strange. She was glad for a closed door to separate her from the village. Chaeme held herself tightly, her palms rubbing her shoulders in a small attempt to comfort herself. She stood, silent and still as a day with no breeze, just inside the door. She watched her human.

He gestured at the pile of strange clothes. She looked at them, then looked at him.

She didn't know what he wanted. Taking a few uncertain steps forward, the glamour faded like the fading colors of sunset bled from the sky. Her evergreen coloration returned as she went to the window and cautiously peered out.

The forest was visible from here. Chaeme held herself tighter. She yearned for the safety and comfort of a cedar, but there were none there. Looking around the room, she could identify a few pieces of furniture carved out of cedar. The wood was dull and lifeless, though the pieces were smooth and polished to what she assumed was a mortal liking. Her mouth cut a grim line.

Still not knowing what he wanted, the dryad turned to her human.

"Ä aba üọrï." I am confused. "Ä klotü ütiz bïn." I do not understand you. She shook her head and remained well out of his reach, but her gaze finally traveled back to him.

He seemed at ease. She supposed in his position she would, too. He was not the one in a strange world where no one understood him. Her amaranth eyes skittered away quickly, awkwardly, and she sighed.
 
Gunner had long since accepted that going through anywhere with even a small crowd was going to be a bit of a challenge; She could only be expected to make so much progress at a time, and already today she had come so much farther than she'd been the previous day. The tavern being as bustling as it was, she could be forgiven for letting her nerves defeat her now. When he felt the nip of her feet against his heels, Gunner would reach behind her and give her arm a comforting squeeze of reassurance.

And of course, as Chaeme's head darted to and fro the eyes she met would be staring back at her. Who wouldn't notice a woman with her beauty in a town as small as this one? It would be a rarity to have such eye candy for the poor and weary of Yoresun, and there was no brothel to speak of in the trading village.

So while it was awe that they looked at Chaeme with, it was burning jealousy that they directed at the back of Gunner's head. That's why it was so relieving when they were out of eyesight and ascended the staircase to their room. Even then, her befuddled expression as he gestured towards her new clothes told him that they were far from in the clear.

Oddly enough, every time this confusion reared its head again it bothered him less and less. This time it even brought a smile to his face. "Uh clotty ooteez bean indeed." He rose from his comfortable spot on the bed with another yawn, reaching out to retrieve one of the dresses that he thought would look stunning on her; a deep emerald that complimented her skin with flecks of gold running across it in long thin lines. Gunner held it up to his chest as if he were wearing it, and then held it out to her.

Valentine would take as long as needed to acclimate her to this strange new world she was stuck in. Why? Well, if he were her, he sure as hell would want somebody to help him out. This was the least he could do. If she could never return home, he would endeavor to make this her home.

That started with something to wear, a place to sleep, and somebody to care about.

Chaeme
 
Her human did a bad job of repeating what she said and Chaeme frowned. Did he understand her? What did "indeed" mean? He was smiling, which he appeared to do often. Whether it was meant to or not, it both reassured her and set her on her guard. She was as lost as before, though he seemed to be making some attempt to put her at ease.

He rose and walked over to the pile of clothing, where he picked up something green. The man held it against his front and Chaeme understood that it must have been some sort of dress. Fae had far more loose ideas of gender and fashion compared to mortals, and her lover had often come wearing attire that might have been considered feminine like this. A skirt or a dress. Did he mean to wear it? If so, it looked to be a little narrow for his wider chest...

Chaeme remained where she was and stared at the dress when he held it out. It was several long, awkward seconds later that she realized this wasn't for him, but her. The dryad blinked and closed the wide gap between them enough to take the garment.

"She aba edï," she said quietly. "Edï kläwu." It is pretty. Very pretty.

Copying his mannerisms, Chaeme smiled. She steered out of his reach to drape the dress over the edge of the bed so it didn't get twisted around and confusing. Then, without warning or modesty, Chaeme undressed. Though she did not lack the ability to feel shame, she had none about being nude. She paid him no mind since she really didn't understand his embarrassment or anything he could have possibly said. The dryad wriggled her way into the dress, which was not as difficult as she imagined, but the back hung loose and open, little strips of more fabric looped in the small of her back. Unsure if this was how it was supposed to be, she turned to her human.

"Pä gaba a'fo?" Is this right? she asked. Chaeme held her arms out and turned in a little circle to show it off, then smiled hesitantly. "She aba edï. Ä dïfo bïn." It is pretty. Thank you.

The green was different from her skin color, but similar enough to still compliment it without clashing. She thought she liked it, even if it felt loose. Perhaps that was better than a tight fit? It certainly would not be good for riding a horse or walking in the forest.
 
There was silence hanging in the air for a minute after he'd held out the beautiful emerald garment, and Gunner thought maybe Chaeme had no desire for finer clothing; why would she, having lived out in the woods with barely a scrap on for her entire life? Eventually, though, she reached out and grasped it, muttering something in her own tongue that Gunner could not understand. The tone of soft wonderment in her voice, however, transcended language.

The look of admiration, the smile on her face... somehow it made the trouble she'd caused for him over the last couple of days seem trivial. How long had it been since he'd had a moment of peace with anybody besides himself? Really, he couldn't even remember. Being a runaway didn't exactly offer you the richest of social lives, nor did it leave you with much in the way of money to buy equivalent company. Gunner didn't see himself as the type of fellow who needed such a wealth of interactions to be happy; for most of his life he'd been on his own.

Even so, having somebody smile at him, somebody who had absolutely zero expectations for him... It was freeing. This dryad didn't know about his failings as a mage, the disappointment he'd brought to his bloodline, or the way he'd fled his hometown in shame. To her, he was but a strange mystery, every bit as much of a riddle as she was to him. It was almost as if he was being offered a chance to start over. To be who he'd always wished to be, at least to somebody.

Then she was naked, and Gunner's smile turned to a silent gasp as he averted his gaze. What was it about the Fae creatures and showing off their bodies so openly? He was only human, of course he wanted to look. To be so devoid of shame... Valentine couldn't fathom it, but then there was an awful lot about her kind that he didn't think he would ever understand. The man kept himself turned away as she shimmied into the dress, stealing quick glances to see if she was done.

If it were possible, Gunner thought she might have been even more fetching in the dress than she had been in the nude. The emerald matched her skin so well, hanging loosely in all the right spots, while concealing her modesty where it needed to. That tailor was a damned genius... as soon as Gunner hit it big and won some coin, he had to remember to pay her.

He was staring, but Chaeme didn't seem to mind. What were the words she'd spoke upon looking at the garment? They found his lips in a murmur before he shook his head of the cobwebs.

"Edï kläwu..."

Chaeme
 
Edï kläwu.

Chaeme laughed, her brows rising and her cheeks darkening with a faint flush of red. He mimicked this phrase better than the other. It was still spoken in the tongue of a stranger who didn’t know the cadence of the language, but it was clear. It was also very clear he had no idea what it was he was repeating. She shook her head to shake off her smile, wondering how embarrassed he would have been if he'd been aware he'd called her pretty. It was his naive attempt that was charming. He'd been kind to her and she found herself relaxing, less afraid to be shut in a room with this human.

She wanted to thank him, sincerely. She wanted him to know her name and she wanted to know his name. That suddenly felt very important.

“Chaeme,” she blurted into the space and the silence. She touched her chest to indicate herself and repeated her name more slowly. “TSHA-mee.”

Then, with a nod and her brows raised in questioning, Chaeme pointed to him. It felt ridiculous, but they had literally no overlap in a shared language to work with. Miming it was going to have to fill in the gaps. At least, she hoped it would.
 
Did Valentine have the slightest hint of what he'd just said to her? Of course not, but the way she went red, which stuck out even more against her olive skin, told him he'd said something right. Maybe he'd regret it, but he decided then to memorize that one, just in case.

Her laugh was like a song, it made his ears tingle with how light and airy it floated through the stagnant air of the room. And that smile, gods if it didn't light this drab place up a little bit. Gunner didn't understand why they would outcast somebody like her-- She obviously didn't have a cruel bone in her body. If anything, she was just as scared and alone as Gunner had been for the majority of his life.

Chaeme

Gunner's new companion thrust her thumb at herself, and he looked from where her hand rested at her chest and back up to her lips as she sounded the phrase out. No, not a phrase, her name! "Chaeme!" Valentine pointed at her and grinned. It excited him much more than it should have to figure out her name, but he practically jumped forward, pressing his hands against his own chest. "Gunner! GUN-err!"

For the first time, he understood what she was trying to get across to him. It was so little, but it felt so massive, so important. Gunner could have thrown his arms around her and squeezed her then and there. He was still in the hole money-wise and had no idea how he was going to get by, but this was this first friend he'd made... ever?

Chaeme
 
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