Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others | oocI wrote way too much, so I just went through and did a cut down - still massive, though, so feel free to skip to the red asterisk to read the task Aoren gave her, and her response from then on. Sorry!
Altaira was more than pleased to see that Aoren took to her light joke, having for a moment worried that she'd overstepped her boundaries. She took in a deep breath, calming her excitement as she stopped herself from walking so quick she'd knock at Aoren's heels, not quite able to stop her mind from going wild at the thought of how different things were proving to be.
Once there was confirmation that all would be fine and safe, she couldn't help but size him up as they made the short distance to the work room. He was tall in height, she knew that, but not ridiculously so, not that she was either a petite or small little thing herself. She was taller than the average human woman, so she was told, but shorter than the average man; some odd medium that was hardly striking or note worthy.
At least it meant that she didn't feel so dwarfed by her co-worker, nor any others so tall as to make those of smaller stature uneasy. She gave a hard look at his broad shoulders, and she wondered if he belonged to a certain kind of the humans, such as the Vantha of her home city, her mind finally finding a brief moment of leisure to solely regard the man.
She took keen look at his features when he turned and motioned her to a place by the work bench, stifling a giggle as she noted that evidence of the last blow up on the day still lingered here and there. She promptly took a comfortable potion, and chose not to question his calculated collection of equipment. She was unable to prevent a flinch as he began to speak once more, words sudden enough to strike her urges to evade and back off. She hadn't expected someone so focused on the task at hand to comment on another's presence, and scolded herself for allowing her mind to be so easily taken.
More facts and words hit her in a solid surge, and Altaira nodded almost absently, eyes scanning the room and otherwise absorbed in watching Aoren's deft work. Water was important to many things, that was the gist of what was said, and she was pleased enough to lock it away in mind before it grew complex enough that she was caught it thought. ‘Water is important. Water is important.’
Aoren’s work seemed to be a certain second nature to him, and she wondered just how long he'd been in the place. Was it season, or years? Or not long at all, with history elsewhere? She gave his facial features another once over, not too sure where to place his age, though it was certainly greater than her own age (physically speaking) by a few years, at least.
When she snapped her mind back to attention, it was with a sharp breath and whirling mind, mentally repeating the tail end of the words spoken to ensure she’d kept herself up.
She'd missed a lot of movement, and some of the construction to her thoughts, frowning at the set up when she noted that her co-worker was no longer in her line of sight. It was the sound of rummaging that gave away his position, and Altaira quickly found herself seeking his mark. She'd decided that it was a gnosis, but she knew not of to which God or Goddess is belonged to, except for the mere fact that it wasn’t Morwen’s.
With no luck to be had in seeing it, she instead decided to see how much lettering she could make out of the manuscript Aoren held. Something easier thought than done, the pages held too high for her to comfortably get a glimpse. What use was keen eyesight if it couldn't be used? She'd be scolded for wasting her traits if her elder brothers were around.
The name of their little project was familiar, though not overly so. She'd worked a little in the ways of herbalism, though none much in brewing or philtering, with what was used in the North tending to be endemic or quite hardy. The book was slid towards her, and she gladly seized it, half a moment too late to tell him that she could read it just fine when it sat by him, and hoping that his thoughtful gesture didn't leave him in any state of disadvantage.
She poured herself over the contents of the page, putting the world on hold as she tried to make sense of what was spoken along with how it was put on paper, blinking rather erratically as her focus on the words was too great and too close for comfort, staring at a far off wall as she made do to compute the knowledge. ‘Made from Chamayo seeds that have been soaked. Common enough to find in temperate regions. Doesn’t heal, relieves. Ok. Temperate. Relieves. Soak. Temperate. Relieves. Soak.’
She let her eye continue to rake across the page as Aoren spoke on, finding that although the general gist was simple enough, the saying 'easier said than done' could be fervently applied.
She could hardly say the thought of the task was unnerving, but it would take time and care that she hadn't practiced since Avanthal. She was hit with another barrage of knowledge, adding splices and words to her little internal, birdspeak mantra. For a moment, she pursed her lips to ask if he knew what properties caused such a thing, but the words slipped from her tongue as work continued, and she found the idea of interrupting for such explanations possibly bothersome and unneeded. ‘Perhaps the body will only accept a certain amount? Or something? I’ll see about asking later.’
"Isn't it always?" Her own giggle bubbled and dissolved at her quiet addition to Aoren’s remark, having had decided that she wished to make her own agreement well known, the slight curve of her lips remaining as she began fidgeting slightly. Kelvics, or at least her specific base species, weren’t good at standing still in place, and although she was happily enthralled by the man’s words and work, she wasn’t sure how long she’d last before she’d begin pacing the room. Even more so since she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a genuinely good time, little lone while on the clock and actively learning. She read his next movement as one to keep a keen eye, and rolled her shoulders as she narrowed her gaze.
More explanations were hitting her hard and fast, his tone was good and even, and helping her keep close attention; no little hitch or odd changes in pitch to distract her. Perhaps such focus was something she should work on, regardless of how drawing Aoren's voice was. ‘Always purify the water. Water. Purify. Done by charcoal and… chessecloth? Charcoal and Cheesecloth. Got it. Wait, wrap the nozzle… where? Ok.’ Altaira frowned and pushed off bitter thoughts about her kind’s more aggravating traits, leaning forward as she absently mimicked the Vanthas she grew up with, and eyed every small detail; from the apparent texture of the cloth, to the shape of the nozzle, the distillation device itself, and way that the cloth was wrapped. Written words were no good, sound was slightly better, but it was by sight and touch that she flourished.
She nodded shortly to the gestures and the accompanying words, mentally adding a comment about how much of a waste the whole conception of the greenhouse, and put a question to priorities and how well thought out the plan would be, if they couldn't keep up even filtered water demands, happy and brimming with a sweet self pride at the coherent string of thought she’d mustered when her mind was so busy.
Altaira felt like she looked like quite the fool with her insistent nodding, and gave a slow, single nod that time around. It was a procedure she knew some of. There seemed to be such subtle differences between the ways things were done when comparing Syliras to Avanthal, but that could hardly be unexpected.
She watched Aoren continue to work, shifting her own gaze to follow his line of sight - trying to figure out his thought process and reason why he chose to do what when, and in which order. ‘So the vapour passing through the coil aids in the distillation…’
She flinched as he tapped on the container in question, gaze dwelling on it a moment too long, finding herself once again a little unprepared when Aoren continued talking. ‘Oh, so the water is evaporated? Only the water, leaving behind impurities? Yes? Yes.’
She had never quite understood why so many were not fond of the philtering field, but with all the details and concepts that Aoren was taking such care to line out to her, she was quickly understanding why so many would be turned away. Unlike practice with a knife or sword, theory and finesse was heavy. She noted the glance that she was sent, and gave a smile and a brisk nod. She had to pull herself into gear and focus, but she was getting it. So long as she spent the evening mentally going over what she had thus far been told, she supposed that most of her new found knowledge would stick.
A small smile was offered to her, and she sent back an awkward grin, the little incident from the morning feeling more like a memory than something that had happened no more than several bells prior. When Aoren began the use of what she assumed to be reimancy, she couldn't help but gape slightly. She knew well that philtering especially was often used in close relation to magic, but it was the first time she'd seen someone use it so simply in seasons. Not to mention it was fire reimancy, at that.
*
She was hit with a job, then. Find the plant. It was a nice, uniform instruction, and Altaira couldn't help the words that slipped her tongue, nor the pleasure with which she spoke; seeking a plant for a kelvic, even more so for one of her base species, was a task almost as natural as flying. "Yes, sir," she half giggled, eyes already scanning the page for any helpful hints and descriptions beyond the sketched image, glad that she paid attention when Aoren gave her the rundown of the plant and its origins.
From what she recalled, there wasn't anything strikingly unique, so she set her sights on the description of the leaves, stem, and features of the like. The words, she found, run hollow for a moment, and she gave bitter sigh as she took once more to the picture, slamming together the definitions both visual and written until she had, what seemed to her, as comprehensive a mental description as she could muster.
Once she'd committed it to memory, she repeated the traits in a string through her mind, predetermining which feature would be easiest to discriminate. She didn't realise she missed the warmth of the greenhouse until she re-entered it, half thinking that perhaps she could remain a little while longer than needed. She almost immediately found her mind hazy as to which section was where, only gaining her bearings in regarding the tropical section and the floras she'd lingered on; working her way forwards to the placement of the temperate section, inwardly scolding herself in noting that it was the last (or first, depending on perspective).
"Right," She murmured to herself, finding that she did best in solitary work when her voice filled the silence. "The leaves seemed to be..." She made the mistake of trying to see the section as a whole, at first glance. Although such a thing would work well enough if she had a physical representation of what it was she was searching for, she felt a more systematic approach would work just as quickly."Starting from the front, and working backwards?" She outwardly debated, already scanning the plants by row for a matching the description.
It took a dozen more ticks than she’d considered was needed, but once the small cluster of plants was found she was struck with further issue. She frowned and made her way quickly back to the workroom, ensuring that her movement was fluid and quiet enough that she didn't startle Aoren again, who seemed to be well at work, as she returned to the book and pored over its contents once more. She'd recalled seeing a brief mention as to the proper collection of seeds, but hadn't taken enough note of it to remember the specifics once she required it.
Once she found it and read over how much to take and where it was to be harvest, she slunk out to the greenhouse once more, thinking different of her actions and pausing in the doorway. Was she even supposed to collect the seeds herself? She frowned and gave a confused look to her co-worker, and waited until he could spare her attention enough to speak. Of course it would have helped if she hadn't been silently wandering around until that point.
She gave a short gesture towards the section she'd found the plant in, quite content being casual until she recalled the last few things she'd said to him, and the manner in which he was addressed, tone almost immediately taking on a mock-serious lilt as she spoke, "Further orders?"
Once there was confirmation that all would be fine and safe, she couldn't help but size him up as they made the short distance to the work room. He was tall in height, she knew that, but not ridiculously so, not that she was either a petite or small little thing herself. She was taller than the average human woman, so she was told, but shorter than the average man; some odd medium that was hardly striking or note worthy.
At least it meant that she didn't feel so dwarfed by her co-worker, nor any others so tall as to make those of smaller stature uneasy. She gave a hard look at his broad shoulders, and she wondered if he belonged to a certain kind of the humans, such as the Vantha of her home city, her mind finally finding a brief moment of leisure to solely regard the man.
She took keen look at his features when he turned and motioned her to a place by the work bench, stifling a giggle as she noted that evidence of the last blow up on the day still lingered here and there. She promptly took a comfortable potion, and chose not to question his calculated collection of equipment. She was unable to prevent a flinch as he began to speak once more, words sudden enough to strike her urges to evade and back off. She hadn't expected someone so focused on the task at hand to comment on another's presence, and scolded herself for allowing her mind to be so easily taken.
More facts and words hit her in a solid surge, and Altaira nodded almost absently, eyes scanning the room and otherwise absorbed in watching Aoren's deft work. Water was important to many things, that was the gist of what was said, and she was pleased enough to lock it away in mind before it grew complex enough that she was caught it thought. ‘Water is important. Water is important.’
Aoren’s work seemed to be a certain second nature to him, and she wondered just how long he'd been in the place. Was it season, or years? Or not long at all, with history elsewhere? She gave his facial features another once over, not too sure where to place his age, though it was certainly greater than her own age (physically speaking) by a few years, at least.
When she snapped her mind back to attention, it was with a sharp breath and whirling mind, mentally repeating the tail end of the words spoken to ensure she’d kept herself up.
She'd missed a lot of movement, and some of the construction to her thoughts, frowning at the set up when she noted that her co-worker was no longer in her line of sight. It was the sound of rummaging that gave away his position, and Altaira quickly found herself seeking his mark. She'd decided that it was a gnosis, but she knew not of to which God or Goddess is belonged to, except for the mere fact that it wasn’t Morwen’s.
With no luck to be had in seeing it, she instead decided to see how much lettering she could make out of the manuscript Aoren held. Something easier thought than done, the pages held too high for her to comfortably get a glimpse. What use was keen eyesight if it couldn't be used? She'd be scolded for wasting her traits if her elder brothers were around.
The name of their little project was familiar, though not overly so. She'd worked a little in the ways of herbalism, though none much in brewing or philtering, with what was used in the North tending to be endemic or quite hardy. The book was slid towards her, and she gladly seized it, half a moment too late to tell him that she could read it just fine when it sat by him, and hoping that his thoughtful gesture didn't leave him in any state of disadvantage.
She poured herself over the contents of the page, putting the world on hold as she tried to make sense of what was spoken along with how it was put on paper, blinking rather erratically as her focus on the words was too great and too close for comfort, staring at a far off wall as she made do to compute the knowledge. ‘Made from Chamayo seeds that have been soaked. Common enough to find in temperate regions. Doesn’t heal, relieves. Ok. Temperate. Relieves. Soak. Temperate. Relieves. Soak.’
She let her eye continue to rake across the page as Aoren spoke on, finding that although the general gist was simple enough, the saying 'easier said than done' could be fervently applied.
She could hardly say the thought of the task was unnerving, but it would take time and care that she hadn't practiced since Avanthal. She was hit with another barrage of knowledge, adding splices and words to her little internal, birdspeak mantra. For a moment, she pursed her lips to ask if he knew what properties caused such a thing, but the words slipped from her tongue as work continued, and she found the idea of interrupting for such explanations possibly bothersome and unneeded. ‘Perhaps the body will only accept a certain amount? Or something? I’ll see about asking later.’
"Isn't it always?" Her own giggle bubbled and dissolved at her quiet addition to Aoren’s remark, having had decided that she wished to make her own agreement well known, the slight curve of her lips remaining as she began fidgeting slightly. Kelvics, or at least her specific base species, weren’t good at standing still in place, and although she was happily enthralled by the man’s words and work, she wasn’t sure how long she’d last before she’d begin pacing the room. Even more so since she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a genuinely good time, little lone while on the clock and actively learning. She read his next movement as one to keep a keen eye, and rolled her shoulders as she narrowed her gaze.
More explanations were hitting her hard and fast, his tone was good and even, and helping her keep close attention; no little hitch or odd changes in pitch to distract her. Perhaps such focus was something she should work on, regardless of how drawing Aoren's voice was. ‘Always purify the water. Water. Purify. Done by charcoal and… chessecloth? Charcoal and Cheesecloth. Got it. Wait, wrap the nozzle… where? Ok.’ Altaira frowned and pushed off bitter thoughts about her kind’s more aggravating traits, leaning forward as she absently mimicked the Vanthas she grew up with, and eyed every small detail; from the apparent texture of the cloth, to the shape of the nozzle, the distillation device itself, and way that the cloth was wrapped. Written words were no good, sound was slightly better, but it was by sight and touch that she flourished.
She nodded shortly to the gestures and the accompanying words, mentally adding a comment about how much of a waste the whole conception of the greenhouse, and put a question to priorities and how well thought out the plan would be, if they couldn't keep up even filtered water demands, happy and brimming with a sweet self pride at the coherent string of thought she’d mustered when her mind was so busy.
Altaira felt like she looked like quite the fool with her insistent nodding, and gave a slow, single nod that time around. It was a procedure she knew some of. There seemed to be such subtle differences between the ways things were done when comparing Syliras to Avanthal, but that could hardly be unexpected.
She watched Aoren continue to work, shifting her own gaze to follow his line of sight - trying to figure out his thought process and reason why he chose to do what when, and in which order. ‘So the vapour passing through the coil aids in the distillation…’
She flinched as he tapped on the container in question, gaze dwelling on it a moment too long, finding herself once again a little unprepared when Aoren continued talking. ‘Oh, so the water is evaporated? Only the water, leaving behind impurities? Yes? Yes.’
She had never quite understood why so many were not fond of the philtering field, but with all the details and concepts that Aoren was taking such care to line out to her, she was quickly understanding why so many would be turned away. Unlike practice with a knife or sword, theory and finesse was heavy. She noted the glance that she was sent, and gave a smile and a brisk nod. She had to pull herself into gear and focus, but she was getting it. So long as she spent the evening mentally going over what she had thus far been told, she supposed that most of her new found knowledge would stick.
A small smile was offered to her, and she sent back an awkward grin, the little incident from the morning feeling more like a memory than something that had happened no more than several bells prior. When Aoren began the use of what she assumed to be reimancy, she couldn't help but gape slightly. She knew well that philtering especially was often used in close relation to magic, but it was the first time she'd seen someone use it so simply in seasons. Not to mention it was fire reimancy, at that.
*
She was hit with a job, then. Find the plant. It was a nice, uniform instruction, and Altaira couldn't help the words that slipped her tongue, nor the pleasure with which she spoke; seeking a plant for a kelvic, even more so for one of her base species, was a task almost as natural as flying. "Yes, sir," she half giggled, eyes already scanning the page for any helpful hints and descriptions beyond the sketched image, glad that she paid attention when Aoren gave her the rundown of the plant and its origins.
From what she recalled, there wasn't anything strikingly unique, so she set her sights on the description of the leaves, stem, and features of the like. The words, she found, run hollow for a moment, and she gave bitter sigh as she took once more to the picture, slamming together the definitions both visual and written until she had, what seemed to her, as comprehensive a mental description as she could muster.
Once she'd committed it to memory, she repeated the traits in a string through her mind, predetermining which feature would be easiest to discriminate. She didn't realise she missed the warmth of the greenhouse until she re-entered it, half thinking that perhaps she could remain a little while longer than needed. She almost immediately found her mind hazy as to which section was where, only gaining her bearings in regarding the tropical section and the floras she'd lingered on; working her way forwards to the placement of the temperate section, inwardly scolding herself in noting that it was the last (or first, depending on perspective).
"Right," She murmured to herself, finding that she did best in solitary work when her voice filled the silence. "The leaves seemed to be..." She made the mistake of trying to see the section as a whole, at first glance. Although such a thing would work well enough if she had a physical representation of what it was she was searching for, she felt a more systematic approach would work just as quickly."Starting from the front, and working backwards?" She outwardly debated, already scanning the plants by row for a matching the description.
It took a dozen more ticks than she’d considered was needed, but once the small cluster of plants was found she was struck with further issue. She frowned and made her way quickly back to the workroom, ensuring that her movement was fluid and quiet enough that she didn't startle Aoren again, who seemed to be well at work, as she returned to the book and pored over its contents once more. She'd recalled seeing a brief mention as to the proper collection of seeds, but hadn't taken enough note of it to remember the specifics once she required it.
Once she found it and read over how much to take and where it was to be harvest, she slunk out to the greenhouse once more, thinking different of her actions and pausing in the doorway. Was she even supposed to collect the seeds herself? She frowned and gave a confused look to her co-worker, and waited until he could spare her attention enough to speak. Of course it would have helped if she hadn't been silently wandering around until that point.
She gave a short gesture towards the section she'd found the plant in, quite content being casual until she recalled the last few things she'd said to him, and the manner in which he was addressed, tone almost immediately taking on a mock-serious lilt as she spoke, "Further orders?"
ooc :
Looking back at it was downright horrific - Way back when Taira was supposed to be a happy, quirky little giggle-ball kelvic to match her parrot's cheeky personality. She's evolved to be more 'sassy,' now that I've grown with her a bit XD So I'm sorry it I write her seemingly OOC from here on in, I'm just no used to being... outright happy and cheerful.
I was going to have her at least have an idea about what is done, but she lacks the lores and she is, afterall, kelvic.
