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 Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2012 6:30 am
"I can heat up some water, got some tea in my kit somewhere..." It took some doing to drive Wren off enough that he could slip past her and hop his way easily into the caravan to search. Once he was out of sight, the Guardian turned her attention on them at last, stepping over slowly — but boldly — to sniff lightly at Rajani and then stretch her nose toward the youngster. It was curious, nervous more than cautious, green eyes sweeping over him before they returned to his Chosen.
She wuffed, once, and then Warwick was bounding back out of the caravan with his firestarting kit, with his heavy pot, with a bundle under one arm, looking them all over. He'd shed layers in the process, looked more casual and more patched up now that he had. "...uh. Ain't got sugar, though."
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Posted: Fri Aug 03, 2012 9:24 pm
Rajani obligingly offered her palm for the doe to sniff, even as Oberon glared at the other guardian and sent vague, unhappy emotions to her through their connection. When Wren's attention focused on him for that brief moment, his ears were back and he snorted at her in clear displeasure. The gypsy shushed her guardian and sent warm, loving feelings toward him, hoping that they reached him. It was all still so new to them, she hardly knew what she was doing.
As Warwick came bouncing back, Raja could not help but marvel at his energy. Where did it all come from? Did he ever grow tired?
"I drink it black," she said, unconcerned with his lack of luxuries. She never could stand sweetened tea, anyway. "She's a sweet little thing, your Wren."
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Posted: Tue Aug 07, 2012 7:29 am
"...sweet." He blinked at Rajani like he couldn't quite believe it, and then twitched a grin, looking to his deer. She was very serious, in this moment, if a bit flighty. Like her Chosen, not quite able to stand still; she pranced a few steps to one side and then slowly back, meeting his eyes and tossing her head. Yes, sweet, she seemed to say. She'd been very nice, after all.
So he set to building up a fire in a well-practiced sort of way, settling on his heels as he worked, the mess of his hair tumbling forward into his eyes. In the inn, he had perhaps looked...cheap. Tacky. Here, however, against the brightly-painted wall of his caravan, ribbons twitching over it and Wren's bell jingling as she moved, he looked more natural. It suited him better.
"Wren and I get along. She don't mind my, eh, silliness." This came with a quick look up, pot set on the heat.
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Posted: Tue Aug 07, 2012 8:20 pm
"A rare doe, indeed," she teased. Warwick truly was easy to get along with, but Rajani imagined that there were times when it would take a great deal of patience to put up with him. Of course, there were times like that with just about everyone if one were to stick with them long enough. At least, that was her experience. All the more reason not to stay too long. Less trouble that way.
The gypsy moved closer and sat down near the fire-to-be. Oberon followed close behind, but he gave the doe a wary look before he folded his spindly legs and lay down next to his Chosen. A flutter of movement caught Rajani's attention. Hawthorn peered down at them all from atop the caravan, having finally deigned to rejoin them after the indignity of babysitting the fawn.
"Well hello, Gorgeous."
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Posted: Fri Aug 10, 2012 9:44 pm
Warwick blinked -- for a moment, just a moment, thinking that she meant him -- and then with a flush, embarrassed if she hadn't been able to see the thought flit across his face, he turned to look up at the bird as well. The pot on the fire would take a bit to boil, so he leaned back and just smiled toward Hawthorn, eyebrows raised.
"Don't that beat all. I got one of them followin' me too." No reference, here, to his own rook as a pet or companion; just like the original Reese, Warwick's bird was independent, contrary, stubborn. He didn't try to get it to do anything, just put out some seed. Now and then. If he felt generous.
He had more leverage over this one than he ever had his brother. "Must be they like the Guardians."
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Posted: Fri Aug 10, 2012 10:05 pm
"I don't know about that," Rajani said, amused. She had missed Warwick's blush, but it would not be the first time a man has been mistaken when she spoke to her companion. "Hawthorn seems to think this one is more trouble than he's worth." She patted Oberon on the flank and he blinked sleepy eyes at her, wondering why she was bothering him. She smoothed the fur on his neck and he lay his head down in her lap.
"But he'll put up with him for my sake, I think." They had saved each other, in a sense. The gypsy had mended the rook's wing, and the rook, in turn, had given her something to hold on to. Long enough, at least, to keep moving. Even if she could not save her sister, at least she could save one bird. If she could save something, then maybe it was worth it. They had been inseparable ever since.
"Though perhaps yours is more fond of Wren than you?"
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Posted: Sun Aug 12, 2012 4:54 pm
"Don't know. Doesn't seem much fond of anyone." It came with half a shrug, a quick check on the water, and Warwick straightened. Another quick bound into the caravan, and he'd come up with two battered, mismatched mugs, as well as all the tea they might need.
He shook his head at her, offering a brief smile as he settled back in front of the fire to pour. "I don't see him more'n once every couple days. Mostly he manages on his own..."
He offered one of the cups, curled between his hands.
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Posted: Mon Aug 13, 2012 3:29 pm
She hummed noncommittally. It only made sense that any rook of Warwick's would be as full of wanderlust as he. Well, if one could rightly say that the rook belonged to Warwick. It might be more accurate to assume that it had taken a particular interest in either the man or his guardian.
Rajani accepted the proffered cup and wrapped her hands around it, warming her fingers as she looked at the bags of, presumably, tealeaves.
"What do you have, there?" she wondered, though she was not particularly choosy.
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Posted: Mon Aug 20, 2012 9:17 am
"Uh..." Warwick paused, tempted to draw the cup back out of her hands, just slightly flustered by the fact that she'd asked. His eyes flicked back to the caravan as he went for his own cup, curled on his knee. This was cheap tea, just about the cheapest he could find, and not exactly the freshest on top of it. But it was tea at least, so...
"Bohea." And he sipped his own, even with the leaves still scattered in it, plucking one from between his teeth and drawing up a smile. Wren eased in behind him, didn't quite set her chin on his shoulder. "Sorry, you were probably expecting more..."
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Posted: Mon Aug 20, 2012 6:09 pm
In anyone less feminine, the noise that Rajani made would have been considered a snort.
"Worried you're going to offend my delicate palate?" She asked, amused. "I grew up on bohea."
She brought the cup to her nose and inhaled the familiar scent before taking a small sip, taking care not to sear her tongue. It was certainly not the highest quality brew she had ever tasted, but it brought back memories. For now, she was content to just sit there, stroking the long line from Oberon's head to his hindquarters and reminiscing.
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Posted: Thu Aug 23, 2012 12:51 pm
"I don't actually know anything about ye." From someone else, that might have been digging, hunting for some kind of information. Out of Warwick, though, it just sounded faintly embarrassed -- came with a flicker of eyes upward, a beat, before he recovered from the awkwardness and pushed onward. In all honesty, he didn't think he wanted to know more. He knew a lot about the nomadic life, including the troubles that could be associated with it -- and. Well. They didn't need to talk about those.
"Except ye said y'd sing fer Wren." It came out before she might start to explain more, his hand settling against the side of his deer's neck. A smile flashed across his mouth. "Aye?"
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Posted: Thu Aug 23, 2012 8:16 pm
At his comment, she raised an elegant brow. Most people did not know anything about her. She preferred it that way. What made him so special? Of course, given how quickly he changed the topic, perhaps he preferred it that way, too. That, or he was simply too embarrassed to ask. Regardless Rajani allowed the observation to pass without comment.
"I did, indeed," she agreed after sipping her tea. "Anything in particular?" Oberon preferred lullabies, she knew, and even Hawthorn seemed to like certain types of songs more than others. Perhaps Wren had something she liked, as well. It was not out of the realm of possibility and it was only fair to ask, since she was doing a request anyway.
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Posted: Wed Aug 29, 2012 8:21 am
"I play a silly bitta pipe, an' she likes the lively ones, but..." But he hesitated, leaning back with his own cup settled on his belly, hair tumbling forward into his eyes. Thinking about what 'lively' would mean right now. It'd mean high spirits and bouncing, it'd mean a bit of dancing around, it'd mean energy. It'd mean not sleeping.
Warwick quirked a smile, thinking about that, and swept those bangs back up off his forehead. "Mebbe something quieter, so's te tame us down some."
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Posted: Wed Aug 29, 2012 8:51 pm
She considered his request. Given the time of night, it was just as well. Given the fact that Oberon was half-asleep already, it was even better. Taking a quick mental inventory of the "quieter" songs in her reportua, she chose a song. It was not a lullaby, but it was slow and sweet and heartbreaking. A beautiful piece about love and loss and the little things that make it all worthwhile.
Perhaps the song should have sounded ironic or rang false coming from the lips of so distant a woman. However, the lyrics rang as true as if the gypsy had experienced everything that she sang of. In a manner of speaking, she had. Of course, it was not quite in the way that most would interpret the song. Her love and loss was not the romantic sort, but the familial kind and she felt it still. So when the piece wound to a close, drifting off until only the faintest of echoes rang in the ears of her audience, she closed her eyes and sat for a moment in silence before draining the last of her tea from the cup and setting it down.
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Posted: Wed Sep 05, 2012 8:21 am
Silence given as respect while she sang lingered after she stopped, her audience — them a duo who usually couldn't sit still for more than five minutes on end — lulled into a quiet, slumped thoughtfulness. Warwick's hand had settled against Wren's neck, a light touch, perhaps he had been scratching obligingly, but now it just lay there limply, his head tipped in against her shoulder as hers was against his.
People took songs as they would, indeed, and most might have thought of lost loves and abandoned dreams. In this case, however, she might have been surprised to find how similar Warwick's thoughts were, a silent whir of memory behind his eyes.
It took him a moment to blink back into himself, eyes sliding up onto her and then aside to the dozing Oberon, the hour, his own content Guardian. He worked his mouth, his own tea settled half-full against his leg and lingering there. "...ah."
He owed her a thank you, but the words felt too harsh right now. So he sat on them and just considered for a moment, keeping his tone carefully soft. "Would ye rather stay here the night, than go back...?"
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