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It took a small amount of coin and no small amount of bargaining, but Macaire has obtained the once-daily use of a small empty lot out behind a tavern. He arrives shortly after sunset has begun, the timing necessary due to his daytime work as a guardsman, carrying a large wrapped bundle under one arm and leading Cadence by a bit of string. The string is not strictly necessary for the young buck, being more in line with a reminder that he is supposed to remain close on the walk, but Macaire has found that it makes people more likely to leave the pair of them alone. The string implies an animal who needs a leash, and makes Cadence appear more like a pet than something surprising or supernatural.

Of course, once he arrives in the empty lot and begins his work, anyone who sees him there will have a difficult time thinking of Cadence as a pet --

A short time later, anyone who passes by will see Macaire standing just behind a straw dummy fashioned roughly in the shape of a man. The tall guardsman is well-dressed, as might be someone in the service of a moderately well-off merchant. There are flowers sticking out of one pocket, which is perhaps a bit odd, but not so odd as what he is doing. With clicks, tsks, and soft commands, he is directing a very young Guardian to charge across the empty lot and 'attack' the straw dummy. The buck is perhaps slightly bigger than a large dog, with long, spindly legs, his beautifully dark brown hide seeming to flicker in the torchlight as the sun sets. He wears a satchel strapped down across his lean back, presumably to accustom himself to the weight, and appears to get great enjoyment out of the game of head-butting the straw dummy.

"Ah, that's the ticket, me lad, jest run him through -- nae, nae, ye dinnae want to kick him, not from the front. Them legs be tae easy tae muck oop." Leaning down as the Guardian stops to listen, Macaire taps the inside of one of his front legs. "Could string ye, a man could, with sword or knife. If'n ye kick, do from the back, aye? Ye back or his'n." The Guardian gives every appearance of listening and being able to understand: those who might wonder about Macaire's sanity after witnessing this training may be surprised to see the little buck dance in a little circle with apparent excitement the moment Macaire finishes speaking.

Though she might worry that the stranger would not appreciate her interruption, there'll be at least one who's delighted by it: when approached by Venn, the little brown fawn actually jumps, skidding several inches away and then standing frozen in shock. The heavy packs he carries do not seem to trouble him at the least, but he stands for a moment with his sides heaving .. and then bolts after Venn, squeaking with excitement, wagging his little tail so hard that it's a wonder he's able to walk. Cadence has been lucky enough to meet other adult Guardians, but he's never met one his own size, and he's practically afire to sniff Venn all over, and smell him, and shove his head in happy greetings against the other fawn's throat.

As to the man, she might worry for a moment for the first thing he does is sigh, rubbing his hand over his face -- but then he smiles, as gently as he can manage, and if it tugs at the scars most little folk can generally see the softness in his eyes. When he speaks, his voice is coarse, each word gently rounded to a broader, unfamiliar sound. But his voice is quite gentle, and as he approaches, staying just out of an arm's reach, he drops down into an easy crouch so that he no longer looms over her. Without any idea of how old he is, he falls prey to the assumption many others must make, looking as if he thinks her to be a small child.

" 'Tis nae mind, lassie. Me lad there be a roight mess hisself, always getting tae grief. Ye live hereabouts, do ye?" Gentle, gentle. He knows well he looks a fright to most, so he treats her like a skittish doe herself, as if he moved too fast or spoke too loud she might start.

One so young may and may not be able to read it in his eyes, but the longer he listens to her the sadder he becomes. There is an ache there - - an ache for her and for her happily playful Guardian -- that he dares not voice. Is this yet another example of a soldier for the upcoming war? Is this what they are pinning their hopes on -- tiny children who, even if they survive against all odds, will have their innocence destroyed by the very war they are forced to fight? He wishes yet again that he could take the Guardians to task for their choices, that he could take the future burden from Elise's shoulders and fight for her so that she can stay just the way she is right now, made bold by her own innocence.

For it isn't just that she's "young" in years; it's her very manner that causes him to treat her like a child. That courage of hers, prompted because she's never known another soul to treat her poorly -- he just wants to wrap her up in satin and silk and protect her from the entire world right now.

"Oi see. What's yer name, lassie? Oi'm Macaire, and me lad's name be Cadence. Would ask ye why yer off and aboot sae late by ye ownsome, but we both know the reason, aye?" He gestures casually to their enthusiastic little fawns, and grimaces dramatically for Elise's benefit, as if to imply that Cadence has preformed the same trick -- running off when Macaire least expects it, forcing his Chosen to follow after.

Macaire has a theory -- it isn't just that the Guardians are choosing (what are to him) children, who are overall more likely to be wide-eyed and optimistic about the future. His speculation is that it has something to do with the difference in the two nations; whereas those born in Sunderland are likely to idolize and glorify the Guardians, folk from his homeland are overly fond of sorrowful or morbid tales, and therefore focus on the sadder portions of the common fable. Sunderland people talk about how much love the Guardians bring into one's life; in Aireland they talk about how a Guardian fills one's heart, leaving no room for anything else. Same concept, different take ..

In response to her curtsy he returns her an awkward little bow, still resting on one knee in front of her, listening to her as if her every word is as important as that of any adult. "Oh, aye. If he b'ain't sticking his head in somebody's basket, he's romping about in some muck, or wandering off somewheres as he b'ain't supposed tae be. Near as made me heart stop, once or twice. Ainly way oi can get him tae stop some of it is this -- wearing him out of nights." He gestures casually to the playing fawns, which .. if it isn't strictly the military training he had planned .. isn't bad either. Playing tag with someone his own size and weight, with similar agility, isn't something that Macaire could simulate on his own.

In fact, Cadence finds it great fun, and if he carries around a heavy weight on his back he is accustomed enough to it that it hardly slows him down. Having squawked in a most ungraceful fashion when Venn "tagged" him, he is quick to tear after the other fawn, happily engaging in a wild game of tag around the packed- dirt enclosure.