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Saraf gave a moment to think about what she was saying, giving a humming sound, but didn't answer. She was pretty well spot on when it came to what the nobles thought about love and it wasn't something that he wanted to think too hard on, not when such a situation was one that encompased his own birth. Giving a shake of his head to clear it of such thoughts he was glad to hear that Arima had turned her attention to talk of books, something that he much preferred even if they didn't read the same things.

"I can tell you that most taverns, at least the sorts that soldiers hang out in, aren't really book worthy. It's a bunch of men gathered together drinking, boasting, and being... well, men. I doubt that you would do well in such a place, you're too pretty and they might think that you're... not... a lady, per say." He didn't want to use the exact terms for what they would likely think of Arima. Given that she was dressed in such a fancy manner and she was a member of the Water Tribe, it was likely that they would think that she was a member of the Red Amarilys. Giving a grumbling sound he said in a serious manner, "Best to stay away from such places or else you will end up over your head, Arima."

When she said that it was up to his judgement he couldn't help but to give a bit of sigh, "Good." That meant that he would be able to steer her away from palces where she would likely just be eaten alive, something that he couldn't allow to happen on his watch. Sure, he didn't really plan to marry her but that didn't mean he was just going to leave her to what equated to a pack of hungry janarim either. With that thought in mind he lead the way toward the marketplace where they could walk around in peace.

Saraf blinked a couple times, seemingly realizing what he'd said... having said that the strangely colored Matori woman was pretty. There was something that he didn't want anyne to know about because he sounded as though he were a fan of another tribe when, to this point at least, he'd only found others annoying. Why had he called her pretty? A slip of the tongue perhaps? Hard to say but he merely glanced her way and asked, "Fishing for compliments, Lady Arima?" A question that he hoped would be able to deflect the fact that he'd said what he'd said. Hopefully it would save him for having to give any sort of answer one way or the other as well.

"Hm?" As she turned her attention to some cloth he gave a little nod of his head. He supposed that it was alright, though he felt agreeing was the best thing to do since it was a nice change of subject, "Yeah, looks nice." Better then talking about what they'd been talking about a moment before at least, even if chatting about cloth wasn't exactly the most exciting way to spend time.

Looking down at the cloth that was laid out in this particular booth he inspected it, finding himself thinking that he aught to let his mother know about this particular place. A thought that he brushed aside feeling that she'd be disappointed if the only thing that came of this meeting was Saraf trying to find things for his mother. He was dragged out of his thoughts when Arima was suddenly requesting that he go and ask a merchant about lavender colored cloth, seeming as though she were too shy to do so herself.

He gave a bit of a sigh before he said, "I suppose I can ask." If his reputation as a soldier took a hit because he was forced to ask about purple cloth he wasn't going to be a happy man. That thought in mind he went to do as asked, wanting to get the little chore out of the way sooner then later.

This was far too embarrassing Saraf thought to himself as he asked a rather startled looking woman about lavender cloth, instantly telling said person that the cloth was 'for a friend'. Such a bother, what if they thought that he was the one that wanted to damn stuff?! What if his unit caught word of this? He shook his head, not wanting to think too hard on the situation at hand. Instead he would just get this over with, find the cloth that Arima wanted, and then she could come over and buy it thus proving it wasn't meant for Saraf himself. Of course as he turned to her, about to call her over when the saleswoman found a bolt of the right colored cloth she wasn't there. Saraf stood there for a long moment, starring at the point that Arima had been standing... and then instantly his temper was flaring.

"My Nerad's beard where did that woman go?" He hissed out between his teeth, waving at the saleswoman to tell her that he didn't need the cloth presently before he rushed forward to where he had left Arima. If she wanted to dump him off she could have just said so! He would have happily gone the other direction, with the both of them saved from having to hang out. Instead she sent him off chasing something and ran as though he were a beast she wanted to get rid of?!

He searched for a moment, actually ready to just head for home since it seemed that the woman wanted nothing to do with him when he noticed a gathering crowd. He glanced toward the building, then to the sign that hung over it. The Janarim's Skull... he blinked a couple times before he lifted his hands, rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes, "Oh for the love of Essd... if that woman is in there I am going to kick her right in her noble backside!" With that he stalked forward toward the building, teeth gritted slightly.

Of course as he arrived he spotted the one that he didn't want to be there, surrounded men that looked far too interested in her. It was something that had him cursing under his breath as he moved forward, shoving people out of his way as he made his way toward the foolish air head of a girl.

Saraf felt in a way as though he were almost wading through the crowd, attempting to get close to the foolish girl that was amidst a group of drunks. This was exactly why he didn't want her to come to such a place but did she listen? Of course not! She couldn't just take his word for it that the tavern was no place for a lady, especially a Matori born lady. Sure her mother might see her as an 'Oban Lady' but there were other people who weren't going to feel the same. It was the people in here that weren't of the same mind, instead seeming as though they were enjoying getting into her personal space.

Much to his surprise the girl was able to break away from the others, heading for the door... but not toward him. He gave a little hissing sound as he moved, taking a swing at one man that pursued the pale colored girl, his punch catching the man in the chin. The man stumbled back a couple steps and Saraf moved to stick a foot out, tripping up a second man, and then gave a third one a hard, two handed shove. Upon the shove he lifted a hand, going for his sword, wanting to intimidate the group... before recalling that he hadn't brought it alone. Why would he need a weapon on a meeting of this sort after all he thought to himself in an annoyed manner.

"Just back off, she's not worth you getting your drunk asses kicked." Saraf said, shifting his stance in preparation for anyone that might try to pick a fight with him. So long as he was able to give the girl a head start when it came to her getting out of the tavern. Once he was sure she was out he would follow and make sure that she was still in one piece... then he'd make sure to get her back to where she belonged, which was where her mother could keep an eye on her.

It took some time for Saraf to get out of the tavern, his expression a bit on the dark side. Bah! Women... this was such a pain in the backside he thought to himself as he lifted a hand, rubbing it against his chin where he'd gotten himself punched in the chin in the fray. Not to the only shot that he'd taken but the one that ached the most since it had the most force behind it. Alright, not to try to find Arima if at all possible so that he could bring her back home to where she belonged. It was obvious she was too naive to be wandering around on her own as it was going to get her into trouble. Well, even more trouble.

"Arima? Where are you? If you're hiding come out and let's go, I am escorting you back to your mother!" He called out. As much as he wanted to just leave, not wanting to deal with this situation anymore, that he couldn't. He had to make sure that she got back safely so that he could just sleep well at night.

Once he was done with Arima he really needed to see about talking to his mother about this. This was going to be the first and only marriage interview that he went to because he wasn't in the mood for anymore of these meetings after today. He wasn't really sure if he was going to have any luck talking her out of such things but here was to hoping. Giving a grumbling sound he called out, "Arima! It's time to go!"

Lifting a hand up Saraf rubbed his temples for a moment when Arima didn't appear instantly upon him calling out for her. He glanced from side to side before he gave a bit of a sigh, finding himself wondering where she'd gotten herself off too. Had she rushed off somewhere else? Was she getting into more trouble? Was she getting accosted by more drunks? There was far too much trouble that a person that could get into in Oba in general, but Arima seemed to be a magnet for trouble given who and what she was. Not everyone would be into the whole 'Matorian adopted by an Oban' thing. It was definitely strange to him but he was trying his damnedest these days to try to be more open to outsiders. There were those who would never attempt such a feat. Saraf's younger self certainly wouldn't have.

After what felt like an eternity of searching the area he finally spotted the girl looking a bit more of a wreck then he would like. He starred for a long, drawn out moment, a moment that was filled with silence before he gave a groan, "We should get you cleaned up. I don't need either of our mothers thinking that I was the one to mussed you up in such a fashion." Though there was still the chance that one of their mothers might think it was Arima that had punched him. Better that then the reversal though if you asked him.

Motioning to her he said, "Let's go, Arima. We will find a place that you can clean up." They would require a mirror at the very least so that she'd be able to see her reflection. After that then he would deliver her safely back to her mother in hopes that the woman would bring her home where she would be safe from all the dangers Oba presented... and possibly safe from herself as well.

Saraf gave a snort, "Last time I got into an argument with a woman she smacked me around the bit me... I don't think I want to risk that again, thank you." Just thinking of the annoy Leaf Tribeswoman made his mood a bit worse so he did his best to push her visage out of his mind. The last thing he wanted was to think about her, to let his anger get the better of him again, or end with with Arima acting in the same manner as the Leaf Witch. As such it was best not to yell he thought to himself, lifting a hand to rub his temples for a moment. Glancing Arima's way between his fingers as he rubbed his temples but kept his thoughts to himself. Best that he didn't tell her that he agreed because she'd started enough trouble as it was since that would likely start an argument or more water works, neither of which he was interested.

"Eh? It doesn't matter. I'm a soldier so I am used to such things." He said, waving off his own injuries as though they were nothing, before they were. His fights in the various wars were far worse after all. What were a few punches in comparison to what he'd gone through in the past after all. As the woman offered to help him, claiming to heal him he found himself thinking back to another with pale hair that offered to do the same for him in the passed. Yet another person that his temper had caused him to react poorly to, sending the person running. Giving a shake of his head he said, "I'm fine, I don't need healing. Let's just tend to you, I will survive a few bruises."

Glancing around he started forward, making sure she was close by, as they sought out a place that she would be able to get cleaned up. It took a short amount of time before he spotted a place, one that seemed to sell dresses, that had a changing room with mirrors. Glancing at Arima he asked, "Will that suffice?"

It would appear as though this entire meeting between himself and Arima was just meant to be one embarrassing situation after another. The next step in what he felt was a test of his patience to the very last drop. Now he was standing here outside, waiting while Arima tried to get herself fixed up, while people seemed to be whispering about his relationship with the woman... and it was basically exactly what he'd thought of her when he first saw her. He'd thought that Arima was someone's mistress as well to begin with... and that was what others seemed to think as well. The problem being that they thought that she was Saraf's mistress, which was a bit on the embarrassing side. The last thing that he needed was rumors going around that he had a mistress... if the rumor got too garbled then his mother might even start to believe it. What a mess that would become.

As the young woman called out to him he jerked his head to the side, glancing in the direction of her voice, "Huh? Oh! Yes, I'm right here." He called back to her, wondering what it was that she needed. Was she being hassled by the seamstresses? Surely not, not when she was paying them well for their work. So what was it that she needed from him? Or was it just her actually, truthfully asking if he was still around, as though he might disappear or something. While there was that part of him that kind of wanted to he wasn't about to do such a thing, not when he meant to escort her home.

Upon spotting her peeking around the corner he asked, "You doing alright?" Please let this not be something else odd, like her wanting his opinion on the dress... He knew so little about women's clothing that he doubted very highly that he was going to be of any help to her. Still, she was calling to him so it was best that he address her properly even if she was going to ask him something that he might fumble with a correct answer for.