I'm surprised he didn't. Then he would have had a steady supply for his potions – this way, he'll probably need someone to go out and find this all over again.
[ In all fairness, Peter had wondered the same thing when he heard the tasks and learned the reward the alchemist was willing to attach to it. ]
He's trying out some kinda potion. Experimental, I guess. He didn't want the responsibility of having to keep a marten alive and well in captivity if it doesn't turn out to be the ingredient he needs.
[ He waggles the fingers of his free hand at her. ]
[ She sounds pleasantly surprised by his answer; when she'd first seen him, she genuinely would have thought he was a hunter by nature. Or at least somewhere on that scale of looking for animals and easy bounties. ]
A lot of people need to be helped, and not a lot of others offer it.
[ Today is a perfect example, if she's honest. She could have tried to save herself, to get out of that cage, to figure a way to detach the snare, to limp her way to a healer or a fey willing to help her. But the likelier outcome was the same one that befell far too many like her: she would have been found and killed, or brought back to Neverwinter for whatever fate the guard had in store.
The idea makes her shudder. ]
Do you mind if I...?
[ She gestures vaguely to illustrate that she wants to wind her arm around Peter's shoulders – an easier way to use him like a crutch, when her hopping along is still awkward. ]
[ He hesitates for a second before leaning down a little, making it a little easier for her to get her arm around his neck. It'll be a little awkward for both of them, admittedly, but no more awkward than it already is; it'll be faster this way, too, he figures.
He's equally hesitant before he wraps his arm around her waist – light and barely there – to help support her. ]
[ Yan tenses for only a heartbeat, but as she adjusts to what Peter is doing .– and how careful he's being – she offers a nod, settling more comfortably into using him as a makeshift crutch. ]
[ He lets out a quiet, affirmative hum, getting a slightly better grip on her waist as they continue on.
They continue on in silence for a while, with Peter listening carefully for the noise of pursuers. For now, everything seems calm around them – the faint rustle of the leaves and branches above them, the quiet calls of wildlife – and Peter lets himself relax a little.
[ Yan hops along beside him, having a considerably easier time now that he's supporting so much of her weight (not that there's an especially significant portion of it to begin with).
She glances at him from the corner of her eye, her nose wrinkling. ]
I thought I was tracking a rabbit. The cage didn't appear until I was already inside of it.
[ He frowns a little, glancing up through the tree tops. The light is fading, and it's a little too soon to think about stopping and setting up camp for the evening. ]
[ One of those smaller, tentative smiles tugs faintly at her lips. ]
Then I guess I will take you up on it. I really don't need much, though.
[ She's apparently determined she can hold out – mostly, because she doesn't want to take more than Peter is already doing for her. They may have reached some tenuous understanding, but Yan doesn't want to push it. ]
[ He offers up another little hum, somehow both acknowledging and skeptical. It seems to say, “Sure, if you say so,” only without so many words.
After a while spent hobbling, Peter peers up at the darkening sky and determines that this is the best time to try and set up camp while there’s still a bit of daylight. He finds a small clearing surrounded by bushes and tall trees – relatively private and hidden, which is the best they’re likely to manage without any additional work, physical or magical.
He helps Yan to sit before slipping off his pack, digging through his supplies and producing some jerky and dried fruit carefully wrapped in cloth. He holds it out to her, and once she takes it, he works on stringing his bow. ]
[ Yan can't help being frustrated with how far they don't manage to get, but she has to remind herself that trying to travel on a broken foot isn't any shade of easy. When the sun is finally starting to set, she allows Peter to select a location; funnily, it's a complete opposite from what Yan would have chosen, but that's mostly because she would have looked for cover to fit a fox, not a clearing big enough for humans to rest.
Racial differences.
She only winces slightly when Peter helps her to the ground, and she readjusts to find the least painful way to keep her foot. She looks up when Peter offers her the little wrapping of food, and she considers it, looking from the cloth to his face. She's reluctant to take it, but not out of distrust.
A moment of hesitation more, and then she accepts the food. She unknots the cloth—
—and is almost immediately tearing into the jerky ravenously.
So much for not being hungry.
She's mid-chew as she glances back at Peter, speaking with her mouth full of the dried meat. ]
Mmmn— d'you think you can bring me a couple of small sticks on your way back?
[ He asks it with a bit of effort as he's getting the bowstring in place. It doesn't take long, however, thanks to practice, and he carefully plucks the string to ensure it's sitting properly. ]
[ He casts her a slightly smug look when she scarfs down another bite, almost like he's saying, Thought so. Fox spirits are clever, or so the stories say, which means that if Yan was foolish enough to stumble into a magicked cage, she must've been desperate.
He looks like he's about to set off, but he pauses. Then, ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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... Are you sure this is a serious job?
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He's trying out some kinda potion. Experimental, I guess. He didn't want the responsibility of having to keep a marten alive and well in captivity if it doesn't turn out to be the ingredient he needs.
[ He waggles the fingers of his free hand at her. ]
Saves him from getting bitten.
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They do have a nasty bite.
[ She's never been bitten personally, but she's seen martens' prey, and they've essentially been savaged. ]
Do you usually chase potion ingredients?
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Not often, no. But the pay was good, and I'm running a little low on funds.
Usually I just... kind of do a little of everything. Which apparently includes picking rare flowers and stalking rare weasels.
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[ She sounds pleasantly surprised by his answer; when she'd first seen him, she genuinely would have thought he was a hunter by nature. Or at least somewhere on that scale of looking for animals and easy bounties. ]
That sounds like a very free way to live.
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I guess I hadn't thought of it like that. But, yeah. I suppose it is.
It's not much, but— I help people, when I can. Assuming there are people who want to be helped.
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[ Today is a perfect example, if she's honest. She could have tried to save herself, to get out of that cage, to figure a way to detach the snare, to limp her way to a healer or a fey willing to help her. But the likelier outcome was the same one that befell far too many like her: she would have been found and killed, or brought back to Neverwinter for whatever fate the guard had in store.
The idea makes her shudder. ]
Do you mind if I...?
[ She gestures vaguely to illustrate that she wants to wind her arm around Peter's shoulders – an easier way to use him like a crutch, when her hopping along is still awkward. ]
no subject
He's equally hesitant before he wraps his arm around her waist – light and barely there – to help support her. ]
This okay?
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It's fine.
[ She offers him a small, self-conscious smile. ]
It's a little easier.
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They continue on in silence for a while, with Peter listening carefully for the noise of pursuers. For now, everything seems calm around them – the faint rustle of the leaves and branches above them, the quiet calls of wildlife – and Peter lets himself relax a little.
Then, carefully, ]
How'd you end up in that cage, anyway?
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She glances at him from the corner of her eye, her nose wrinkling. ]
I thought I was tracking a rabbit. The cage didn't appear until I was already inside of it.
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[ It's an obvious enough answer, all things considered, but he feels silly for not realizing— ]
You were hungry.
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[ She confirms it with a sigh.
All of this, and she still didn’t get her meal. ]
I haven’t eaten since I left Neverwinter.
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Think you can hold out a little while longer?
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I'm fine. We can hold out for a while, in case hunting becomes scarce.
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We'll start setting up camp at sundown. It's not much, but I've got some rations you can have while I track something down a little more substantial.
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You don't have to share your food with me. It's yours.
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And you’re just gonna sit there watching while I eat?
I may be an asshole, but I’m not a total dick.
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Then I guess I will take you up on it. I really don't need much, though.
[ She's apparently determined she can hold out – mostly, because she doesn't want to take more than Peter is already doing for her. They may have reached some tenuous understanding, but Yan doesn't want to push it. ]
no subject
After a while spent hobbling, Peter peers up at the darkening sky and determines that this is the best time to try and set up camp while there’s still a bit of daylight. He finds a small clearing surrounded by bushes and tall trees – relatively private and hidden, which is the best they’re likely to manage without any additional work, physical or magical.
He helps Yan to sit before slipping off his pack, digging through his supplies and producing some jerky and dried fruit carefully wrapped in cloth. He holds it out to her, and once she takes it, he works on stringing his bow. ]
Help yourself. I’ve got more.
no subject
Racial differences.
She only winces slightly when Peter helps her to the ground, and she readjusts to find the least painful way to keep her foot. She looks up when Peter offers her the little wrapping of food, and she considers it, looking from the cloth to his face. She's reluctant to take it, but not out of distrust.
A moment of hesitation more, and then she accepts the food. She unknots the cloth—
—and is almost immediately tearing into the jerky ravenously.
So much for not being hungry.
She's mid-chew as she glances back at Peter, speaking with her mouth full of the dried meat. ]
Mmmn— d'you think you can bring me a couple of small sticks on your way back?
no subject
[ He asks it with a bit of effort as he's getting the bowstring in place. It doesn't take long, however, thanks to practice, and he carefully plucks the string to ensure it's sitting properly. ]
Making a splint?
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Mmhmm. So I don't move it as much.
Do you mind if I borrow cloth for it?
no subject
[ He casts her a slightly smug look when she scarfs down another bite, almost like he's saying, Thought so. Fox spirits are clever, or so the stories say, which means that if Yan was foolish enough to stumble into a magicked cage, she must've been desperate.
He looks like he's about to set off, but he pauses. Then, ]
Human-sized sticks, right?
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Food is more important than being indignant. ]
Mm. [ Mouth full, whoops. ] H'man-sized.
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