Private Tales On the Fence

[Roki]

The sobering response from Syr Vasra tempered the young man's enthusiasm, and his laugh dried some in his throat as he looked about.

Maybe he shouldn't have been so glad to have brushed so close to death, Roki thought, as he rubbed the spot where the knife had bounced off his chest.

His robes would have done nothing to impede the heavy bladed weapon, and, well... best not to think about it.

Shitless, I'd bet...

A proud little croak of a heh came from Roki's throat. Smile wide and eyes squinted. "Yeah..." he thought proudly.

With the tug, the horses slowed, if only a half beat.

Roki looked back at the bed of the cart. At the hole his mage-work had left behind, and the... damaged posts. "Might, we can... get some new posts?" he asked with nervous titter.

Oliver

 

[Oliver]

As much as he hated to admit it, the squire’s easy cheer and unbothered nature was contagious. Tension falling off bit by bit, he rolled his shoulders in a sigh, cursing his inexcusable disinclination towards a firmer tone and talking to. Some pursuant — ripe for demotion, at this rate.

His attention went for their cargo as Roki spoke of the posts, remarking the sorry state upon the bed.

“ Maybe. Not for today, though. “ He responded in a blasé shrug, tearing his look back at the road. “ A number yet remain unshattered, so we’ll be able to put at least some of the fence up. And that will just have to do — these things happen. “ The alternative was that we’d not have made it at all, no?

“ Suppose the rations survived? Might want to have your lunch now, before we arrive — “ He continued belatedly, struck by the thought. “ Will have to get right to work, once we’re there. “

Roki

 

[Roki]

"Oh," he said, as if coming to some clarity. A nod, quick. "Yeah, suppose that's the right of it, isn't it?" better do what they could now. No need to worry of what was lost, if there was more still left to be done. A simple fact. True as a good nail.

"Rations?" he echoed, and turned about. Saw the basket of goods tucked safely away in a cornerr. A grin spread wide across his lips. "Aye, let me just," he stretched over the bench with a little sound, pulled up the wicker basket against the wagon board with a grunt. Opened the lid. Smiled wide. "Packed some Cortosi olives away," he said happily. "And some Cantonelle cheese," the soft gooey stuff that was easy to spread. "Crackers and," he nod, nod, nod. "Dried meats!"

Somehow, he had a little spread upon his lap already, neatly rationed across a canvas cloth. "Feel free to have some, Syr," he nodded, and stuffed a little stack of goodies piled onto a cracker into his mouth. Chewed, with gusto.

It wasn't easy squirreling away all these goodies from the knoll. But damn, did it taste all the better after all the excitement.

Oliver

 

[Oliver]

The contents of the rations were — quite the bounty. Listening on, the impassivity upon him fell away gradually as each item was listed and produced from the basket, expression transmuted to one of consideration. Despite his narrowed stare, a smile still clinged on, flashing wider at the concluding offer and the absolute contentment on the squire's face

A sun, this lad. Equal parts invigorating radiance as destructive force, a burning intensity to every facet. A goddamn joy and a clear hazard to both safety and health, for shouldn't one die by fire, they could certainly do so by stress alone.

“ Stack a cracker for me and I will. “ He promised, releasing the squire from under his stare and allowing it flit away to the surrounding patch of woodland.

“ Am bound to wonder, though — as that is quite the lot you’ve procured for yourself, Roki — “ The remark became belated, his tone without particular judgement.

“ How’d you manage it? “

 

[Roki]

A happy nod, and he set to put together a little confection for Syr Vasra. Cracker first, a slice of spiced salami, a little bit of cheese, and last but not least, a juicy olive, pickled in an oily brine. He nod, satisfied with the miniature tower of delight, and he handed it over to the elder knight.

As they rolled on through, he was quick to make his own little stack, scarfed it down quick, not thinking much of where the words were leading to.

Come the question, and Roki near choked on the last munch of stacked cracker down his face. He thumped a fist against his chest. Coughed. Looked for his water skin, grabbed it up and drank deep.

Wiped his lips dry, and he laughed some, the start of tears there about the corners of his eye.

"Just," another cough to clear his throat. "Well, you know," a nervous laugh and a winning smile that did... very little to prove his innocence. "Gathered a bit here, and a bit there from meals left over,"

Oliver

 

[Oliver]

There wasn’t denying that what lay assembled on a cracker did make for quite the treat. Chewing on it, he could’ve named many a worse thing.

He blinked at the squire’s sudden struggle with a bite of his mystery lunch, the lot of him still and blank with alarm for a fragment of a moment. To the great fortune of all present, a draught of drink appeared to sort it out in short order. He tapped a hand over his heart and looked away, blowing out a breath in exaggerated relief.

Lies, lies, lies. His instinct spoke over Roki's overly vague and nonchalant response, one both fantastically plausible and terribly unlikely. There wasn’t a way to prove it, or disprove. At the moment, anyway.

“ Well — “ He shrugged, smile bright and unworried. “ Hopefully I’ll find that the case, once I look into it. “

Roki

 

[Roki]

"L-look into it, Syr?" he asked, all titters and nerves. "I mean, of course Syr, why ever would you not!" he looked away, shrinking under his own weight. "Look... into it," the wagon hit a rough spot, and gave a rough bounce.

Eldyr's nuts. He was probably going to pull dish washing duty for a week.

"Does," he cleared his throat, and tried to sit a little straighter. Look a little more inconspicuous as the wagon rolled on. He prepped another little food stuff, and offered it first to his acting mentor. "Supply investigation come in handy, in the field, Syr?"

A smoke screen. Might be, if he ingratiated himself more towards Syr Vasra...

Oliver

 

[Oliver]

The bluff appeared to sink in nicely. He merely nodded along, giving an affirmative mm-hm whilst his look remained firmly on the road. The transparency of the tangential question therein was nigh painful.

“ In the field — I wouldn’t know, as I’ve never had to do it. “ He responded, smiling a little wider as he accepted the additional offering. “ Need not be broadly applicable, if one is just passionate about housekeeping. “

A bit like art, in that sense. Resisting a wink, he threw the stacked cracker in his mouth.

“ Am told you occupy your time with kitchen shifts a lot. Enjoy cooking? “

Roki