Completed [The Bronze Wood] Name Your Poison (Isolde)

[Hope Dawnwhisper]

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52nd Day of Summer, 513AV.

The sun was only just beginning to appear on the horizon, Isalie notes. The light had not yet reached the North Kabrin Road, along which Isalie was waiting; Isolde wasn't late... yet. Despite this, Isalie had been up for a few bells now, in anticipation for the excursion she and the Nuit were about to embark on, having chosen the morning because Isolde didn't sleep and Isalie didn't sleep late. Merely two days ago the two women had met, a bizarre meeting, and a sinister one. A strange, rodent-loving poisoner had taken the pair of them, and a third woman, back to his hovel in order to teach them a little about poisons and poison making. It had been interesting enough for Isalie to want to continue her learning process, and Isolde had wanted the same; the two had arranged to meet today in the early morning, and they were to head into the lands surrounding Syliras.

From her travels, Isalie already knew a little of the flora of Syliras, and of other regions, but her knowledge was limited. She had, however, agreed to teach Isolde a little of what she knew, hoping that they might also be able to learn a little together, maybe through trial and error. The runaway slave paces nervously as she waits for the Nuit to arrive, her horse, Shadow, was merrily masticating the grass layering the ground on which the malnourished pair stood. Isalie was pleased; the horse was beginning to look healthier and healthier by the day. She put it down to the fact that she wasn't pushing him hard anymore; they were no longer travelling, no longer trying to run. The weak horse she had stolen had quickly become her best friend, and only constant companion, she wasn't sure what she would do without him.

As she waits, Isalie thinks over what she had learnt from Ninus; he had focused on the cherry, which Isalie doubted she would find in the wild, no matter what the poisoner had said. It was likely she could introduce the Nuit to a few berries, and other common weeds and plants which were in surplus around Sylira.

If the young woman was honest with herself, though, she would be clutching at straws today. Her main motivation in arranging to meet Isolde was actually to learn more about her... or him... the little she knew about Nuits made her need to know more; her curiosity was piqued. Whilst they had been in Ninus' abode, Isalie had wondered why Isolde wanted to know about the poisons. Isalie herself had just stumbled upon the unlikely group, but Isolde had approached him of her own free will. And that made her interesting. The girl, though she wouldn't ever admit it aloud, was also curious as to how poisons would affect an undead being like Isolde, and if she could even digest them.

Isalie had previously met a ghost and said ghost had given her much to think about, in regards to her own pathetic life. Draven had been dead a long time and, solemn as her was, has little practical worries in life, unlike herself. Another thing she would never admit to another soul was how she had begun questioning the value of her own life.

[Isolde Seibold]

The day was... cautious. That was best how Isolde could define it. She wasn't certain what exactly was going to happen. Yes, she and Isalie had planned to come out and map some of the better regions for poison-ingredient gathering, and yes, that seemed rather... straightforward. But there was just something else. Some question or unsaid feeling that seemed to hang in the air concerning the trip, a persistent fly that Isolde could not shoo away, not matter how much she flapped her metaphorical arms. Yes, questions, uncertainties bugging her, refusing to be ignored. Even the atmosphere seemed to agree with Isolde, the air conflictingly cool and muggy, leaving her feeling like the sky might break open and pour down buckets of rain even though there was hardly a cloud to behold.

Perhaps that was why she had dallied. Trying to hold back from whatever it was that she felt might happen. Whatever questions that she had for the girl, and ones that she could... feel might be waiting for her, in return.

When the Nuit finally made it the the arranged place, she knew she was late. Not too late, but enough that she felt bad. Especially given how... edgy Isalie looked. Not quite impatient or excited. More like the look of someone who had been waiting for something for a while, and was close to discovering it. Anticipation. Was that what this heavy feeling was? The feeling in the air, waiting for either a raging storm or blessed rain? Isolde didn't know what was making her think like this. Just... something. Some cue she'd picked up at some point in time while the two had been planning this little educational excursion.

"I-I'm really s-sorry I'm late," the Nuit said, tapping her fingers in a familiar rhythm against her leg, other hand holding tight to the strap of her knapsack. She'd already tucked a couple sheets of crumpled paper into her right-side vest pocket for easy access, along with her stump of drawing charcoal. She was literally going to map the area, if she could figure out how. One of the pieces of paper had already been scribbled upon: her notes from Ninus' lesson, carefully detailing --in hurried handwriting, since she'd been rushing to get it all down before she forgot anything significant-- the poisons that he had described, the dosages, the effects they would have, the process of creating them, and how to treat someone who'd been poisoned in such a way. She'd be on the lookout for purple foxglove and cherry trees, today, along as taking note of any plants that Isalie had experience with, and wanted to point out.

"Who's this?" The Nuit turned her gaze to the horse happily munching on some nearby grass, taking the plant nearly down to the root-- a hungry fellow, then. Judging from his bony state and illustrous coat he wasn't getting the proper nutrients that his body required, and perhaps not enough water, either. The poor creature reminded Isolde of Isalie, actually, that gaunt, quiet look, dark and uncertain. Another of those hesitant feelings ran through the Nuit, and she almost said something to Isalie about the state of the creature, almost, a flicker of concern running across her face. Instead she shot a questioning look to the girl, silently asking if she could approach the horse, if he would allow her to. Horses were intelligent creatures, and so that meant that they were iffy around the Nuit. Some of them didn't mind being near her, could seem to sense that she meant them no ill will despite the fact that she would come across as unnatural to them, a walking corpse. Others reacted badly. She didn't want to spook the fellow, she just wanted to run a hand down his neck, perhaps lay a palm gently against his nose, letting him get to know her, to get comfortable with her strange presence. She made sure to watch the motions of his legs and ears, two immediate indications of mood that would advertise if the creature was feeling any sort of anxiety at her nearness. If he did, she would give him the room he wanted.

Almost offhand, the Nuit said, "Y-You know, while we're o-out I could p-point you to some good grazing fields. The B-Bronze Woods are speckled through with nice, o-open clearings within a bell's ride of the city, full of tall grasses and streams. M-More than enough to s-sustain this guy's appetite, I bet, l-let him get some meat on his poor bones." She looked over with a guarded smile, and yes, that was part of that feeling she had, wasn't it? She wanted to help Isalie. The girl needed help, didn't she? Only... the Nuit was not no certain she would accept it. So Isolde would have to be tactful, careful. She felt about as ready to spook the girl as the horse. "I mean, i-it's the very least I can do. Y-you're helping me out with this, uh, p-poison stuff, and I need to think of something to give you in r-return." Isolde knew the things that she wanted to offer Isalie, Mizas and even a place to stay, if she needed it... but how to go about doing that, approaching the subject? Well, the Nuit figured it would come up somehow... "A-Anyways, want to get st-started?"

OOCHey, this is probably a stupid question, but is Shadow black...? I took a look at your CS, but I didn't see mention of his color, so I winged it! Who knows, maybe he's brown.

[Hope Dawnwhisper]

At the sound of the Nuit's voice behind her, Isalie starts. Clearly she had not been being as careful as she had thought. Internally, she rebukes herself for not remaining wary at all times like she should be. Granted, it was only Isolde, but it could have been anyone, or anything. A guard, maybe... then again, the guards and Syliran Knights had no quarrel with her whilst she had done nothing wrong. Or an animal... now there, Isalie was in danger, and needed to be wary; any predator that came across her could easily kill her. She needed to be more observant, at all times, even when sleeping.

Forcing a smile, she looks over to the woman she had met not long ago, "Oh, it's no worry," she says hurriedly, desperate to appear amicable to the woman. Isalie had resigned herself to staying here, in and around Syliras for the foreseeable future; she might as well make herself at home, properly. And that involved making contacts, and gaining skills and abilities useful in order to earn herself some money. "I have only been here for a few chimes, myself," she lies.

The runaway slave's attention turns to her loyal mount, as the Nuit's does, and her smiles grows, as it always did when her attention was drawn to her beloved horse. Everything they had been though together had cemented their bond. "This is Shadow," the pride is evident in her voice as she steps closer to the beast and gently strokes his neck, "He's been with me since... well since..." Isalie had already shared a tale as payment to Ninus, so Isolde knespw that Isalie used to be a slave, but she was unable to admit to the Nuit that she had stolen something as valuable as a horse.

"He's been with me for a long time... He's quite friendly; he won't hurt you" In her walks through the woods, Isalie had come across some clearings full of lush grass in the past. Shadow had fed well from them, one of the reasons he was looking better than he had been before. But Isolde wanted to find some way of... payment for what limited knowledge Isalie was about to offer her. Isalie was much the same; her pride not allowing her to take anything for free, so she nods enthusiastically anyway, "That would be lovely, thank you."

And she was genuine; it was rare that someone took an interest in the young woman, much less had a care. Isalie wracks her brains for what flora she could show Isolde, that would be the most useful or most interesting. Those which were common would be the most useful, but those which were rare would be the most interesting, most likely. "Shall we.... uh... shall he head off?" She asks quietly. Getting nervous for the first time; never before had she been the one leading or teaching another, this was a new experience in itself. "I know of a good place to start, something to continue on from the information Ninus kindly imparted on us..."

[Isolde Seibold]

"Shall we.... uh... shall he head off? I know of a good place to start, something to continue on from the information Ninus kindly imparted on us..."

"O-Okay. Lead the way."

Isolde smiled over at the girl, blue eyes studying Isalie's face. Now that feeling of anticipation had faded a bit... but there was something else. Some nervousness that was hard for the Nuit to classify. It was strange for her, to be the one who seemed more at ease out of the pair (though, if one included Shadow in their estimation they'd have to give the docility award to him). Isolde wasn't exactly the picture of emotional stability most of the time, if ever. But right now, it seemed, she was more relaxed than Isalie.

As they walked, the Nuit drew the crumpled and folded papers out of her pocket, pressing them against her stomach and running a hand over them to try to smooth them out. "These are the n-notes I took a-after Ninus' lesson," she explained, squinting at the scribbled handwriting, so unlike the calligraphy that she had started using at her workplace when copying texts. "I was so afraid of f-forgetting something important that I w-went straight home and got it all d-down on the first piece of paper I saw." She dipped her hand into her pocket again, coming out with the charcoal pencil. "I've never d-done anything like... like mapping, I guess you could call it." Isolde made a face, something like vague embarrassment or awkwardness, pencil and papers held in hand. "I thought maybe I'd try it today. Pick out landmarks and m-make a record of them, so we c-could find them again easily w-without having to wander around. You could actually have a sh-sheet, if you wanted, and we c-could take turns with the pencil. O-Or I could draw two."

She paused in her speech, grimacing, knowing that she was blabbering on and not being able to help it. In life, especially, she had always been a naturally talkative person when she was around new people, as if over-speaking might help them get better acquainted at a faster pace. As she got to know someone more and more the conversation would turn introverted, the words gracefully tapering from a rush to a more peaceful trickle. She and Vaughn had known each other well enough that they could go without talking for hours upon hours, holding conversations without making a peep... that had actually been a pretty important part of their relationship. It had helped to keep it concealed. Always a secret. Ever lying.

Perhaps now was not the best time to be going over that, again.

The Nuit cast a glance over at Isalie, and picked up naturally where she'd left off, voice and dull blue eyes considering. "Unless, of course, you can remember on your o-own. I just t-tend to forget the d-details myself, over... time. Pl-Plus, maps are always g-good. I would've bought one to bring along and help me out, but... well, they can be a bit expensive, especially if you want a g-good one." She shrugged, and winced at the pain in her left shoulder, settling the limb into a more comfortable position at her side. "Then again, m-maybe it's better for me to learn how to do this myself. Maybe this way I'll learn something. It might turn out to be a useful skill. Plus, I could always use to practice my handwriting. And my boss might decide to pay me more if I had skill in copying more than just text." Isolde tapped the charcoal pencil against her finger as they neared their destination, testing the sharpness. It was plenty sharp. Good.

Gods, from the way she was going on she wasn't likely to actually leave time to get on with the lesson, the real reason they were out here. Perhaps she was a bit more nervous than she had originally thought, and covering it up by running her mouth. "I-I'm sorry, you're probably not interested in any of that at all," the Nuit said, taking on that slightly embarrassed expression again, a sheepish look. "I'm j-just perhaps a bit, er, nervous. A-About what we're d-doing. I want to k-know this stuff... b-but without actually knowing it." She sighed. "I-If that makes any sense."

OOCEverytime I post it feels terrible! I'm sorry!
P.S.Also, I think I already said this in a PM, but remember... don't worry about the new avatar. Isolde still looks the same in this thread. ^^

[Hope Dawnwhisper]

After a few chimes of walking, Isalie guides her horse, and Isolde, away from the track they had been following in order to enter the woods proper. Not much of interest would be found on the edge of the woods; though all plants needed light to grow, they thrived under the protection of the trees above them. Isalie also didn't want to be disturbed by passing travellers, or any guards who might question why an urchin and a Nuit were rummaging around in the undergrowth. Ever since she had met Matthew, the young woman was beginning to get some meat on her bones; that, and the more frequent baths she was enjoying, was slowly making her look more healthy by the day, but it was still obvious that she led a minimal lifestyle.

As a matter of politeness, Isalie nods whenever the Nuit breaks her monologue about writing things down, notes from the meeting with Ninus, as well as making more today. It had never occurred to her to map the area, however. She considers it now and realises how sensible something like that would be. She supposed some people must make a living of it: because people somehow knew which way to go without ever having been that way before.

Her painfully pale skin flushes when Isolde offers to allow Isalie to write, and she glances over at the foreign objects in the other's hands. "I, uh..." For the first time she sounds like the Nuit, stuttering as she tries to get over her embarrassment. "I, don't know how. To write, I mean." Whilst with the family in Falyndar, Isalie had learned a few things about scripture, her Master having decided that a slave who was illiterate was useless. She could read, though it was a slow process and many words went over her head, but she couldn't write; not even knowing how to hold the writing implement properly. Once she had stolen the needed equipment, but her efforts in learning were short lived, and she broke the writing charcoal within a few chimes. The scribbles she had managed to write looked nothing like the symbols she had tried to copy.

It was an embarrassing limitation, one that she didn't like admitting. "Sorry, I would not even know what to write anyway... you can write." She attempts a quick smile before plodding on through the denser areas of the woods. Truth be told, Isalie wasn't all that interested in poisons, just like Isolde. She had stumbled upon the lesson and had decided to go through with it. Her interest in poisonous plants starts and ends with keeping herself alive; and her knowledge base needed to reflect that. There was no one she wished to poison, nor did she have any intention of playing a God and taking a life. And... If she did, she stuck by her scathing remark to Ninus: that poison was the coward's weapon.

"Maybe we should start with basics... Ninus sort of... threw us all into it with a single poison... I could show you how to identify some poisonous plants, if you wish?" If Isalie had understood correctly, Isolde wanted to know the 'about' rather that the 'how-to'... "I don't really know what to do with them, but I know how to find them, and I know which ones are so potent that they will kill you, and the ones that just might make you feel sick... you know?" She glances over to Shadow, who was walking so that his head bobbed up and down between the pair. "And then there's poisons which affect humans but not horses... Or the ones you need to eat, or just smear juices over the skin.. that last type would to damage to you, I guess." Or would they all? Poisons affected the body, not the soul.. Isolde's body would die if it ingested poison, right? Or did it have immunity because of who occupied the body?

[Isolde Seibold]

"I, uh... I, don't know how. To write, I mean. Sorry, I would not even know what to write anyway... you can write."

Isolde listened to the change in Isalie's tone and watched her cheeks color in a bashful pink. The Nuit hid her own grimace behind the bony slope of Shadow's neck, not wanting to offend by the expression, or make Isalie feel any more embarrassed by what she would most likely see as a deficiency on her part. It wasn't, especially considering the ex-slave's history and probable lack of steady education. Isolde had half wondered herself if the girl might be able to read or write, had almost not let herself offer Isalie the pencil... but had figured, in the end, that it would be ruder not to offer. To simply assume that Isalie was incapable of that particular skill set, even if she was... that would have been far worse, probably. Isolde thought she had done the right thing. And actually, this provided her with another opportunity to try to help the girl.

"It's n-nothing to be a-ashamed of," the Nuit said honestly, "There are a ton of p-people who can't write. I was r-really the only one in my family that p-paid attention to those sorts of classes, b-back when I was a kid. Most of my friends and relations l-lost the knowledge, simply from disinterest." She paused, taking a breath, then asked, "D-Do you wish to learn? I c-could try to teach you... I d-don't know how good of a teacher I'd b-be, I haven't done anything like t-that in a long t-time. B-But, if you thought it m-might be something you'd like to k-know, something you could use, I'd be m-more than happy to help. It would r-really be no big deal."

Isolde peeked across Shadow's back at Isalie, trying to determine how she was receiving the offer. But she didn't want to press, and she didn't want the girl to catch her looking, and so she turned her gaze forward, idly brushing her fingers through the horse's long mane, which had a remarkably silky-smooth texture. The Nuit had been walking the whole while with one hand resting gently on the horse's neck, fingers toying with the fine threads of hair there, an old habit that came back to life now that she had the opportunity to use it. Nearly as much as Vaughn had loved birds --just as Isolde had grown to love them-- she herself had originally loved her horses.

Her family had had a few in her short lifetime, most of them young ones that had been traded in for those that had gotten too old to steadily plow; working horses, especially those having to labor for bells upon bells under the hot Syliran sun, tended to burn out at a relatively young age, around eight or nine years old. Isolde had always been sad to see her hooved friends move on to new families in the Outpost; even worse was when they were traded away to live in a less labor-intensive area, perhaps to be used in caravans or for short distance travel. A lot of the smarter horses, too, would get accepted into the ranks of the Knights, moving to Syliras where they would train daily with their new riders and get taught a whole array of new tricks. That was just one of the many dealings that the Knights had had with Mithryn, back then, and probably still held today. It had always been an honor for your horse to be chosen to be used as a steed, even if you might feel sore and sad about them leaving. At least, with the Knights, you knew it was likely that your friend would be treated correctly and given the best care.

Isalie brought the Nuit back to the present by asking a question or two, offering where they might begin. Immediately the Nuit snapped to, listening, mulling on the girl's words. "Identification would b-be excellent," she said, and felt it was true. If she would be able to tell some poisonous plants from those nonpoisonous... well, that might help in more than one situation. The general knowledge would be more than welcome; Isolde liked broad overviews, to get a feel for something before narrowing in and studying closer.

"...Or the ones you need to eat, or just smear juices over the skin.. that last type would to damage to you, I guess."

Such a reference to the Nuit's condition should have caused her to flinch and avoid the subject. But oddly, perhaps because she wanted to build trust with Isalie, Isolde found herself saying, "I, uh... r-really don't know, actually. I mean, about w-what things might or might not affect me. I know there are t-types that will do d-damage. I picked that much up in a b-book I took a quick look at, once, at w-work. But I think that m-most poisons will not have any effect. My, er, body doesn't work that way." It's not alive, she almost said, but couldn't make herself, instead looking down, stepping around a bush, having to let go of Shadow for a moment to do so. Her shoulder twinged a bit as she stepped and she winced, automatically stiffening from the pain. Yes, there were certainly poisons that might make her hurt or might make her feel ill... but probably those, even delivered in lethal or excessive doses, would do little to nothing to one such as her. Just one of the many differences between herself and the living. Something the Nuit didn't much cherish thinking about. She quickly moved on. "You said to smear on the skin...? Do you know of a-any poisons that you might put on a blade?" This time she didn't hide away her expression, which would come across as apologetic. "It's just th-that I w-would prefer to know of a, uh, a poison that o-one could put on a blade. F-For s-self defense, of course. I'm not e-exactly the most fit for, er, fighting. A-And being what I am can be... dangerous, sometimes." She rolled her right shoulder only, approximating a shrug without actually bringing her left arm into the motion.

[Hope Dawnwhisper]

Nodding noncommittally as she listens to Isolde talk about how she could teach her to read and write. In all truthfulness, Isalie wanted more than anything to say yes, to learn how to read, and learn how to write. Going forward, nothing else could ever be more important, more useful, than learning how to do those two things. Right now, Isalie didn't need it; she needed skills to keep herself alive, which didn't involve reading and writing. But Isalie wanted a future in Syliras, and to have a future she needed a job, and to get a job she needed more knowledge and skills than how to catch and skin a rat.

But the young woman was too proud, and she still couldn't bring herself to such a weak admittance, that she needed such help, even though Isolde knew she couldn't read or write. The vulnerable ex-slave didn't cope very well with embarrassment and Stephen continues to blush out of humiliation. "It's okay." She says quietly, not daring to look over to Isolde; she didn't want to see any of the pity in her gaunt facial expression or sunken eyes. "I mean... you know... it's fine. You don't have to."

Clearing her throat, she plows on through the woods, eyes scanning the undergrowth in search of something, anything, to distract the pair from this awkward conversation. Isalie knew that, as soon as she was teaching Isolde something, she would feel useful again. Not finding anything, she beings to tell Isolde about a tree she knew she would not find anywhere near the city of Syliras. "When I was in Falyndar, there was a type of tree that grew there, was reasonably common. I have no idea what it was called, but it was fascinating." She pauses, wondering whether or not the Nuit had ever been there, or knew anything about the area, "They have a warmer climate, you see, much more humid. So the tree can't grow here. It had these small, apple-like things, which were poisonous. But even more interesting, when it rained, the tree would release white sap. Which, if it touches your skin, it will... burn it, I guess. Causes the skin to blister. And the people of Falyndar couldn't even burn the trees, because the fumes from the tree could cause blindness."

She considers, that sort of answered Isolde's question, and, despite the Nuit's comments, Isalie imagined this tree's toxicity would cause Isolde's body to suffer and cripple, if not die. "I guess that doesn't help you, because the tree is in Falyndar, but we could try to find something here? I'll think on it. Ah!" Isalie stops and pulls Shadow's reigns over his head, resting them on his neck. She strokes him gently and kisses his neck before stepping away and motioning for Isolde to follow her. They were by a stream, and the horse dips his head to begin to drink, as Isalie walks a little further down it.

"This..." She thinks for a moment, wracking her brain for the name; she knew what they did, whether they were poisonous or not, but not necessarily the name of the plants. she crouches down and cups part of the blossomed flower in her hand. The stem split, and there were hundreds of tiny white flowers, of which she was only holding a few. "Uh... I think it's called... Hemlock? Yeah! Water Hemlock, because its most common beside areas of water or streams." She glances up, smiling wryly, "Generally, the prettier the flower, the more poisonous. But not all of this plant is toxic."

Isalie traces a few fingers along the stalk, as it joins with other stalks, until she reaches the base of the stem. She pulls firmly by put gently, until part of it comes out of the ground. Holding it carefully by the stem, she doesn't go near the actual roots. "Don't worry, it's a really common plant. But it's in the roots that the sap is poisonous. If one eats it, it can cause seizures and even death. Touching it won't do you any favours either..."

OOCThe first tree is called Manchineel, found in Florida, Central America and the northern parts of South America. The plant is Water Hemlock, found commonly in North America and Europe.

[Isolde Seibold]

"I mean... you know... it's fine. You don't have to."

"I kn-know I don't have to."
The words were out before Isolde could stop them.

There was a beat of complete silence. And then the Nuit slammed a hand to her face, cupping her fingers over her mouth.

What the shyke was that?

Isolde slouched down behind the safety of Shadow's neck. Had she been alive and capable of it, she would have been suddenly sweating profusely. Since she wasn't, all she could do was scramble next to the horse with her head ducked down, flapping her hands and mouthing what an idiot she was. Gods. Where the petch had that sharp response come from?

She didn't know. It had just happened.

"I-I mean. I, uh-- I d-didn't mean for th-that to c-come out l-like that. I j-just-- want to h-help. That's all I m-m-meant to s-s-say." Damn, she was stuttering like a fool, worse than ever. Get a grip! She tried to make her tone mild, rather than flustered. "I j-just meant th-that I know I d-don't have to. Th-that's why I o-offered. I th-thought m-maybe I c-could m-make up the l-l-lesson to you. Th-This lesson. M-Make it up w-w-with one of m-my own. Or m-more than one, I d-don't mind." The stutter was bad enough. The fumbling speech was even worse. Then she realized that her hand was still cupped over her mouth, muffling her words... probably Isalie couldn't understand her at all!

Okay, well. Probably that outburst had been no big deal. No big deal. Isalie certainly was moving along, perhaps warming up to the lesson, mentioning a poisonous tree from Falyndar.

Wait... Falyndar? Isalie had lived in Falyndar?
What the petch?

Before the Nuit could ask, though --and it wasn't like she could ask politely, so maybe it was better not to-- they stopped. Still too embarrassed to look over at her teacher, the Nuit stayed where she was, waiting for the girl to say something, anything... but nothing was said. Isolde waited a few ticks, then peeked over the horse's back as he stopped to drink--

And saw that Isalie had wandered away. Shyke! Pay attention to the lesson, you dolt! Immediately her body jumped into motion, aching muscles churning to catch up. So absorbed into getting where she was supposed to --so as not to seem even more rude than she probably already did-- the Nuit nearly ended up tripping over her own feet, finally stumbling into place beside the girl. If Isalie noticed anything weird, she didn't display it; instead, she delved into the lesson.

Again the Nuit found herself hastening to get herself into the proper position. She shuffled through her papers, crouching down next to Isalie as she gently inspected a flower. The way the girl was holding it up made it an easier target to draw... and drawing made it so that Isolde didn't have to look at Isalie... and so the Nuit earnestly set to trying to accurately depict the flower in charcoal on paper. She was not the best drawer-- she had never been the artistic sort, despite Vaughn's prodding. But she figured, well... drawing a picture couldn't be that hard right? It was like scribing, almost, but with lines instead of words. If she could learn to write in such a way, she could definitely learn to draw. Plus, as she had thought earlier, being able to do this sort of thing might actually impress her employer, increasing her skill at her job. That would definitely be beneficial.

As Isalie talked, the Nuit ignored how awkward she felt in favor of writing down every little detail. If she wasn't focusing on adding detail to the simple sketch of the flower she had created, then she was noting on other things: writing down the identifiers of the plant, for example, like the number of petals and the arrangement of the flower, the color, the number of leaves and their placement, the approximate height, and finally the name, Water Hemlock. She made sure to underline that part about how the plant grew commonly next to sources of water --explaining its title-- and then flipped to a new paper, before outlining, as best she could, a rudimentary map.

At first she didn't know what to do. But once she got started, it got easier and easier as things fell into place. There was a collection of wall-like boxes to account for the city, itself. A slightly-curving pair of lines, part of which soon became detailed to look more like cobblestone, to represent the curve of the Kabrin that they had followed. From there, judging distances, she drew a smaller pathway that would suffice to be the way the two had gone, the trail that they had created through the brush and trees. Bringing them here, to this gentle stream, wavy lines and bumps for rocks, and she even penciled in a group of nearby trees, adding in as much detail as she knew how to make the map more accurate. At the part of the stream where she and Isalie currently stood, she carefully wrote in tiny, neat hand "Water Hemlock." There. She spent just a couple more moments adding new, crisp detailing, squinting at the hemlock again, making certain she had correctly gotten down the shape of the leaf, and the way that the flower bloomed in round little bunches.

Okay... it looked like she had it all down. All of what Isalie had said, being careful to note the affects on the body and the toxicity of the roots. Then she had her little drawing of the plant to help identify it in the future. And then, of course, the beginnings of her map. She'd add more as they went along.

Good. She thought she was doing pretty well, actually, considering how inexperienced she was. Not that she was a particularly grand drawer, or anything... but her work was nothing to snuff at, she didn't think. Plus, it would most likely be enough to help her identify the same plant later, a supplement to her natural memory.

Even better, her studious note-taking and sketches probably at least made up a little for her previous awkwardness and instability. Probably made her seem like a good student, taking such care...

...or, perhaps, like she was rubbing her ability to put charcoal to paper in the ex-slave's face.

Shyke. She fervently hoped that the couple of chimes she had just spent hadn't come across that way.

"Th-Thank you for w-waiting for me. I-I'm ready to m-move on now, if you like." And speaking of moving on--

Isolde finally forced herself to meet Isalie's eyes again, looking a bit sheepish and out of place. "A-And I really am sorry. I, uh, I d-don't m-mean to come across as p-pushy or, uh, b-brash. I-I'm just interested in the b-betterment of o-others." Oh wait, that didn't sound very good, either, like she thought Isalie needed to be bettered. But then, it wasn't really an insult. Wasn't wanting to better oneself a typical goal in a person's life? She didn't know; she sensed she was just making things worse.

And besides. Perhaps Isalie didn't want a Nuit as a teacher. Especially one that stuttered and made a fool of herself so easily.

Yeah, probably the girl was just trying to be polite in turning down the Nuit's offer. Isolde offered a weak smile, ruffling through her notes again self-consciously. "Y-You know, d-don't worry about it. R-Really. I'll, uh, I'll stop n-now. S-So really. S-See any other plants of interest?"

OOCI looked up the Manchineel and read a bunch of horrifying stories about it, woo!

Also, just thought I'd throw in some embarrassed Nuit. Embrace the awkwardness! Let it reign supreme! ^_^

[Hope Dawnwhisper]

The dark haired girl refuses to look over to the Nuit as she speaks, still too humiliated by her admittance, even though she knew somewhere at the back of her mind that it wasnt necessarily a bad thing that she was illiterate. Every now and then, however, she glances over to watch the woman beside her write and draw, carefully taking in everything about what she was doing: from the way she held her writing implement to the random squiggles left behind on the surface of the paper. When she looks up at the plant, Isalie quickly glances away, lest the girl looks over to her and sees her watching. Internally, she admits that she was feeling a noticeable amount to envy towards her companion; to be educated was something most of Mizahar could only dream of, and Isalie had that chance right now, to learn a little of what she might.

Eventually, the Nuit was finished, and says as much. The pair rise, "Well... uh..." Isalie scratches self-consciously at her upper arm, not entirely sure how to phrase it without seeming too eager. The last thing she wanted was to appear even weaker in front of this immortal being. Finally, she glances up to meet Isolde's eyes, but only for a second, as she chooses to stare at a fixed point over the woman's right shoulder instead, "If... uh, well if you, uh, really wanted to teach me, I suppose that would be, ahem, alright." Her words come out in a mad rush, punctuated only by her hesitations and false starts, "Teach me to read a little, and the letters, you know..." This wasn't going to work... "As a, eh, payment for my teaching you... or a thank you..."

Abruptly, Isalie turns and continues to walk on, cursing herself for requesting to be taught, even though Isolde's words and body-language clearly showed that she wanted to teach Isalie. What in the name if the Gods is wrong with me?! She thinks as she reaches over to pick up her horse's reigns and, with a quick word of encouragement, guides him on.

The pair continue to walk in silence, Isalie desperately thinking of something to say as she scoured the ground and trees in search of something she knew would be of relevance to the venture. Her knowledge of plants was severely limited, she was quickly realising, but she was doing her best, and she knew it was more than the average inhabitant of these lands. "When I was travelling with a group of merchants, they told me of this tree, called an Oak Tree... You can find them in these par-" she stops and squints, "Ah! Here's one!" She glances over to Isolde and gestures for her to follow her. This time, she brings Shadow with her, "The merchant said her knew of a man who had eaten part of the oak tree.. I guess the leaves. And he'd been fine the next few days, so he continued to eat them, with other foods, of course. But after a few months, he became very I'll and died not long after." Isalie picks one of the leaves from a low-hanging branch and holds it for Isolde, assuming she might want to draw it too. She shrugs, "I don't know how much of that is true, but I have no reason not to believe him."

She considers for a quiet moment, opening and closing her mouth like a fish before choosing her words, "If one.... actually did want to kill someone, but wanted to make it... appear to be an illness, then a slow working poison like that would do the trick. I think that someone would have to eat a heck of a lot of the leaves to die, though." The ex-slave laughs awkwardly at the thought; she had never wished death on anyone, save a few, nor did she think she had it in her to actually end someone's life. She glances down and, behind, and just to the left, spots another poison. This tree has much darker green leaves, which were shaped like needles, denoting it a plant that did not shed its leaves in the winter season. Mixed in with the deep emerald leaves were crimson-pink flowering berries.

"This is one of my favourites, just because its so easy to recognise." Isalie admits when she sees that Isolde was done, directing her over to the new tree. Here she is careful to ensure Shadow gets nowhere near the tree. "The Yew. It lives all year long, and even when it dies, it still retains its poison." She glances over to Isolde and grins at the irony she was about to share, "The whole of the tree contains a poison which is fatal, apart from the berries. Though I wouldn't eat the berries either; the seeds are deadly." Isalie shifts from foot to foot, watching Isolde with her writing coal and paper, "The merchant who pointed it out to me told me that physicians sometimes use it to, uh, remove an unborn child... but it kills the mother too... Just a small amount could kill a horse or man, or most other beasts, and there is no antidote."

OOCSo the first is obviously an oak tree. The second is actually an English Yew but seeing as England doesn't exist in this world, the yew won't be called that! The bit about abortions is also apparently true- I had to find many places who agreed to that before I shared it, and... whether or not abortions take place in Miz... I thought it was a fun fact for the day!

[Isolde Seibold]

A glow lit within the Nuit. When Isalie meekly agreed to accept lessons, Isolde found a genuine smile gracing her face, the expression widening, her eyes creasing. She wanted, at that moment, to throw herself upon her companion and give her a hug; she held herself back, though, trying to contain the feelings of excitement and elation that were brimming up within her. It was a rush of barely-corralled happiness, just like when she had first become Matthew's Alchemy partner, and it nearly knocked her socks off.

The Nuit wasn't typically a happy person. She didn't typically feel all that well, not about herself or her circumstances. But when she did feel good, more than just a passing flicker remembered from days gone by... well, then she really did feel great.

She had to stop herself from clapping her hands together and jumping around in girlish little circles. Even as she struggled not to whoop aloud in joy, her mind was pivoting in little pirouettes, blaring out over and over, Don't make this a big deal. Don't freak her out. Don't make her regret her decision. Just accept and move on.

"Ah. Well. Really, it is no problem. No p-problem at all. Actually, I am q-quite happy, very very happy, to teach you. I promise I'll try my very, very b-best." Sincerity illuminated her words, and, as they approached their next plant --the Oak tree-- Isolde fell to her notes and her drawing with even more vigor and concentration than before, her heart feeling like it had swollen in her chest and was about to burst.

...Although, now that she thought about it that sounded like an acutely painful experience, didn't it? In reality, it was a painfully enjoyable one, almost speaking of giddiness.

Gods, get a hold of yourself already. You probably look like a star-struck nincompoop. Reel it in, already.

"If one.... actually did want to kill someone, but wanted to make it... appear to be an illness, then a slow working poison like that would do the trick. I think that someone would have to eat a heck of a lot of the leaves to die, though."

That gave Isolde something to talk about other than her complete satisfaction that Isalie had accepted her offer. And she had sensed, maybe, a certain hesitation in the other's voice, as well as the awkwardness in the short laugh after she had spoken. Perhaps the Nuit should take this moment to offer something of herself; to make something clear, if it hadn't been before. "Y-You don't really have to w-worry about that from me. I-I'm not interested in th-this sort of thing so th-that I might hurt someone. Really, the opposite." She struggled for a moment with the concept, trying to figure out how best to explain her intentions. Finally, she settled on, "B-Being... how I am, well. I'm naturally w-weak. Frail. S-Someone like me doesn't make the b-best fighter, and when you add in my own p-predisposition to avoid violence..." Her words trailed off for a moment, before she glanced over at her teacher --and student. The last brought another surge of victory to her chest, and it almost felt for a moment that she was alive again, a strange, sudden, and completely unexpected revelation that took her breath away. It was a moment before she could continue.

"Well. W-What I'm trying to get at is that I try to a-avoid fights. Th-That being said, I s-sometimes get drawn into that s-sort of trouble, and w-when I find myself in a bad situation I d-don't want myself --or my opponent-- to get hurt. Effectively, I w-want to be able to end a f-fight before it happens. Hence... th-these lessons." She paused, grimacing at what she'd just said. It hadn't come out quite right, not clearly enough. "I m-mean. I thought th-there might be a p-poison out there s-somewhere that I might be able to use on short n-notice to effectively d-disable my opponent for a short amount of time. O-One that was fast-acting, and th-that wouldn't do any real d-damage. P-Perhaps one that could be used to induce s-sleep, or to m-make a person too c-clumsy to continue to fight. G-Giving me enough time to run, to g-get away w-without anyone c-coming to any lasting harm. Th-That's the true reason that I b-became interested in th-this sort of thing in the f-first place." Isolde paused, seriousness now taking over her earlier ecstatic demeanor, and she asked, "Y-You d-don't happen to k-know of a-any poisons like th-that, do you? I d-don't blame you if you d-don't; it's something of a sh-shot in the dark. Just thought I'd a-ask."

The whole time she'd been explaining herself --and gods, that had turned into something of a monologue, hadn't it?-- she'd been detailing first all that Isalie had said about the Oak tree --nodding her thanks when the girl had plucked a leaf and held it out for inspection-- and then about the other tree her instructor had pointed out, the Yew. Quickly as she could, she'd jotted down all the appropriate notes... moving onto the drawings of the plants themselves, and the lists of identifiers... and then, of course, adding to the novice map she was creating, clumsily sketching out their path as they walked, refining it into greater detail when they stopped.

Now the Nuit looked over at the girl, trying not to let her expectations raise too high. She absently reached out a hand and laid it on Shadow's neck, stroking towards his shoulder, hand running over his warm, soft hide. She waited, too, for her question to be answered, and hopefully with an affirmative. If not, well. Like she'd said: she knew that what she was asking for was quite specific, and probably not something commonly known.

Oh, and that reminded her: "Also, a-and you don't have to a-answer if you don't want to, but I was j-just wondering. Wh-Where did you learn all this? About the pl-plants, I mean. How t-to recognize them, and w-what each does...? R-Really, I'm just curious."