Welcome to Gaia! ::

He comes every month or so, when the last sliver of moon disappears out of the sky. This way he knows he can travel without being seen. Being incognito and maintaining his privacy is important to Safeword; he needs to maintain the privacy and dignity of those he calls his 'patients,' and though Knapweed is not necessarily a 'patient,' she is still someone he respects. He walks carefully through the swamp, holding in his mouth the bouquet of red poppies he was given: this keeps him safe in Vale territory, safe from the prying eyes and pointed questions he got the first few times.

The Vale is an odd sort of tribe, he thinks; they are not cruel, not outwardly antagonistic, but their boundaries are important to them as his are to him. But they care about different things, he thinks; ultimately he couldn't care less if a rabbit is born with one eye, or if a new invasive form of weed begins to take over the local area...

Being a creature prone to getting lost inside of his own head, lost in thought, Safeword begins to walk without really paying attention to where he is going, following trails that he knows from following them month after month.

Safeword blinks at her, his glowing eyes bright in the gloom that surrounds the Vale's more open tracts of territory, and then smiles. His expressions are all seemingly carefully controlled, refined; this one, however, carries more warmth than is normal. He walks up to the mound of moss, sets the poppies down at his feet, and then sits down himself. His long tail switches the grass behind him, "I couldn't carry both."

And then he smiles. He is fond of her. "If you're up to it, we could go get something." He considers. "Or I could go insinuate Ends-the-Chase did something awful, and gain a favor."

"Do you think so? I understand the Vale as being appreciative of, well, growth." Safeword's brightly glowing eyes hold Knapweed's for a moment before he looks away, switching his tail. "I don't think there are many who would judge if first you bent Wood Spider's ear. Or perhaps Wintershadow's." He shrugs; this is where his analytical side takes over, when he measures who it would be best to tell, what reactions the others are likely to give. "I would avoid being casual about it, though."

The smile that Safeword gives in return is both mild and somehow a bit dark -- as if he has no clue what 'fun' means, and then also has some rather ... intriguing ideas of what it might mean. The buck stretches himself up to his feet, long tail lashing behind him, and then shakes his head; the pale feathers knotted behind one ear rattle slightly as he does so. "Oh, but Knapweed. Your delicate condition. How can you even pursue your Vale duties in such a state," he asks, tone bland.

Safeword's laugh is quiet -- and then he shrugs, careful to lean down and pick up the bouquet of red poppies again, just in case. Before he does so, however, he glances up at her, "Let's take a walk. You can show me what's changed; it's been a month or more, hasn't it?"