Welcome to Gaia! ::

Baptiste smiles up at the wooden sign of the dressmaker's. "Ah, here we are," he says. He opens the door and holds it for his dove to walk in. He locates the dressmaker and speaks with purpose. "My friend requires a dress, a plain one, but of good quality." He glances back at the girl. "I'd say she was a size four, but that's only my inexpert estimate." He smiles at the dressmaker, suggesting that his 'inexpert estimate' was anything but.

"Och, don't worry about us, love," says Caroline. "We'll stay here and..." she swallows. "Wait."

[Mene has zero clue about how to buy dresses, so we'll just skip it, neh?]

After the proper bartering over the chosen dress, Baptiste paid for it and then waited outside the dressing room while his charge changed clothes He'd then carefully folded her white robe and tucked it in his satchel.

"There now," he says with a warm smile. "Don't you look lovely, Angelique? You must be hungry--I know I am, I haven't eaten since early this morning, well before the festivals. What would you like to eat?"

Marissa watched the scene unfold in horror. She was at a complete loss of what to do- before her, a mother was tortured by the sight of her own child, and behind her, a bubble vessel carrying her only child threatened to dissipate if she didn't decide soon. Quickly, suddenly, rashly, Marissa cried:

"Take him! Rojiza, go with them, I'll stay with your mother and Lorelei." To the Filor she pleaded, "Please be careful."

The Filor didn't have even a time to nod- but they swam... as quickly and as furiously as they might, without letting the little makeshift vessel topple. As they went, they released their enzyme in large amounts into the water- especially as they pulled further away from the shore, and left the dock and the fretful women, each torn by their own fear- far behind. The more enzyme they released, the more likely they were to call the Northern Loch, who was, of the four, the most friendly with the Filor. Rojiza may even have been able to smell the indescribably sweet scent that pierced through the water, and touched the air. That is, if she wasn't wholly occupied with holding on for dear life.

It was five minutes of swimming- or maybe ten- time was naught upon the rolling waves- before a figure finally came up into view. It was massive, although all that peered through the water was the very tip of its head, upon which its eyes and a series of golden green scales boasted what the size of the rest of it must be. The waters chopped and rolled around it, as if afraid of the great beast. The Filor, however, were not- for they swam ever faster toward it, and then let the little bubble boat stop at its very nose.

"There you go, little one. ...Tell the King what's what," the Filor said, literally breathless. It sucked a mouthful of tired air, reinflating its papery lungs.

DeArca felt so broken to hear her words. He then felt even worse to think she would travel with him in the state she was in....like he was an undertaker carrying a coffin on his wagon. He closed his eyes tightly a moment and a tear fell down his cheek as he clenched his fists. "I'm sorry...just a minute, please....." He asked, trying to find the ability to calm his sadness and anger.

Her heart broke a little, and she put a soft hand on his arm. "I am sorry. I wish there were more we could do. But... I'm sure that the... elements of this world will aid you in your quest." It was as close as a White Magic Priestess could come to telling the man that the meij would protect him. She was about to turn, and leave, but something tucked into her belt reminded her of something.

"Oh. I heard from another priest.... that you were looking for whiteberry wine." She passed the small, white ceramic flask to him. "Here. For you." Then she bowed, a deep, apologetic thing- and left him with that small favor.

DeArca's hand tightened against the flask as he felt a final tear fall. "There is a wagon second to the end of the caravan...the Forest Spirit...it has the etching of a tree leaf on the side. Leave....Nnn, place Illyana there....thank you" He asked, kneeling down as he sniffed. He reached up slowly, holding Ash as he flipped the cork off the flask.

"Alright Ash...you're gonna feel a little wet, but it'll be ok" He asked and Ash squeaked, sniffing around as he saw DeArca tilt the flask a bit. "Alright Ash...here it goes" he said pouring a few drops onto the little mouse. "Bless thee the one I share my hopes and dreams...bless thee the one my heart falls to...bless the one who shares..who shares..." He paused a bit and frowned. "Nnn...who shares the feeling of one I lost...but...bless thee the one that gives me the courage to face fear with hope that good will come in the end" He prayed, tilting the flask up as Ash squeaked, shaking to dry himself.