Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others The cold never really suited Altaira, and she didn't quite mind it. At least as an employee of Stormhold Salves she was given access to the greenhouse, the warmth and humidity of the place lasting long into winter. She wasn't quite sure how it worked, though she knew it was vastly different to the greenhouses of Avanthal. She gave a short breath and made her way gingerly towards M'wanii's tanks, one eyebrow quirked as she took in the look of the glass monstrosity. She gave an overwhelmed, mismatched smile in memory of the fiasco that only some weeks ago had occurred, and marveled at how well the aquatic plant life seemed to be growing. Having spent most of the season in the greenhouse that mimicked a rain forest, the tanks seemed to almost be an unwelcomed addition. It took away the natural allure of the place, the flow of one biome to the next disrupted by the carefully monitored prisms of glass.
She could scarecly spend a chime in the greenhouse, doing her usual clean and tidy, without having her gaze drawn to the thing. That being said, she point blank refused to be the one in charge of cleaning them out - with at least some form of maintenance required daily. M'wanii had said that many plants filter and clean the water well enough themselves, though the kelvic's skills in botany were not at such a level that she even bothered trying to comprehend how such a thing worked. She was happy to stick to the terrestrial side of things, thank you very much.
She giggled and mused to herself for a moment more, before examining how several of the close plants seemed to be growing, and deciding that perhaps she should do what she was being paid for. She did the usual check for insects, in the tropical section especially, eyes raking over the colouration of a particular tree's leaves and stems, noting that there seemed to be nothing out of the usual. It was a temper-mental little tree, that one. The Mistress had told her not too long ago that the one bought prior lasted half a season, even though the plant itself was perennial. Not cheap either, if memory served her correctly.
It took a stumble and accidental glance at the workroom before Altaira rolled her shoulders and headed back to store, finding that the small amount of sun she'd soaked up would be enough to last a bell or two in store. She made her way to the front counter, drumming her fingers on the bench-top in boredom. Lunch was well and truly over, then, and she had no idea what it was her other co-workers were up to. Perhaps they were on their own lunch breaks, maybe taking well deserved days off - or quite simply running errands. The Mistress was busying herself behind her own heavy door, the constant sound of movement and the flipping of pages making it perfectly clear that she was not to be disturbed.
Though her physical look said one thing about her, her chronology said another. Though she looked the part of the typical human, it was little nuances like her attention span and fierce golden eyes that said another. In the case of the former, especially, she lasted only three chimes more before she was among the shelves 'tidying' up, committing bottle after jar and container, its contents, and location to memory.
She was soon lured once more to the store's counter, her curiosity suddenly peaked by the glyph seals upon the cabinet behind it. I wasn't often that she was actually seeking something to do, it was a good a time as any to study the shapes and forms that guarded items deemed important enough. She gave a hard look the curve of one symbol, to the sharpness of another, regretting standing so close as a dull pain began to develop in her mind. For all that keen sight was good, there were a dime a dozen drawbacks.
She heard the soft sound of footsteps that often came with a close passer by or customer, and she promptly turned and preparing herself for conversation. If it proved to be someone with interest in the store, that was.
In another moment the person of interest passed through the threshold of the front door, and an icy breeze blew through. Goose flesh rippled up Altaira's arms, and she snapped to a folded position in a bid to stop the uncomfortable creeping from spreading further.
"I need a burn salve." The voice was young and female, a ring of broken innocence. There was a suffocating silence that followed, not even a sixtieth of a chime in length, though the suspended stare felt as though it drew on longer.
After the palpable tension, an air of lightness followed.
"Gods," Altaira said, a grin quickly curving her lips.
"Yes, come in- come in!" She gave a light chuckle, and slipped out of the counter. Head aches aside, her sight and hearing always helped when it came to recognising people, especially when there was some distance between them. She doubted that she would have been able to respond with such hearty certainty if it wasn't for that little quirk of hers.
There was a moment when her smile turned to a grimace, replaying the events of the meeting her mind several times over. She was still riles about the incident, even with the days that had come and gone inbetween. It almost seemed a waste of life and light to dwell upon the words exchanged, and she'd just barely managed to shove them so far out of mind that she almost forgot that it occurred. Some men were just not content with the world until they dragged everyone down to their level.
"How are you? You're not hurt, by any chance? What was it-" Altaira briskly made her way to a section that was familiar enough, a rather large grouping of balms and salves that were applied directly to the skin.
"-Burn salve?" She raised her voice as she set off to work, internally scolding herself for the mechanical nature of her reaction. Too long serving customers, it seemed. She took hold of a selection and brought it back out to her sweet little friend, smile kind and attentive,
"We have plenty to choose from- Its needed for nothing serious, I hope." She gave a giggle as she brought her trove to the table, laying them out in an order that was easy to understand, not bothering a comment on the younger woman's choice in dress as she glided past.
oocI quite like this style! (: It is artistic and lovely! 
