The Visitor - RPLOG
Participants
Date
11/8/477
Log
Jera knocks on the doors to the Manor. He has sent word earlier that he would be visiting with a gift, and one he did bring, a bouquet of freshly picked flowers sitting atop a wooden barrel carrying the rest of his things, both tucked under an arm. Once his lack of weaponry is confirmed, the kit fox enters and heads straight to Sveta's room, eyes only lingering for a moment on the inside decor. He knocks politely on the avian's door.
A little hesitation, and then, a voice from the other side. "Come in!"
The scene that greets the kit fox this fine mid-morning is a...reasonably peaceful one, compared to the hectic events a few days ago. Sveta is still on the bed and its simple mattress of straw, the splints still about her legs and her entire left shoulder still encased in a metal brace. However, it seems that the nightgown loosely draped about her body is fresh, as are the sheets, which have been very recently changed - a couple of chairs by one side of the room suggest how that feat was achieved. The goshawk herself looks somewhat content, lying with her back and wings propped up with a pillow, having manifested her sacred family and glowing with a gentle warmth.
By the window, a kite - similarly having manifested the sacred family of the phoenix - tries with variable success to cook a meal on the small stove the servants have lugged into the room just for this purpose, black smoke rising up and out through the window into the rose gardens, while Sveta watches with no small amusement...
Trace himself is wearing his robes already, coughing lightly and looking over the food he's prepared. "Well... The pancakes look okay... Most of them. The egg's burnt, though. Got some bread, some cheese, some other things... I..."
And then the doorknock, the fox that moves into the room, causing him to smile lightly as he uses a hint of air-magic to blow the smoke out of the window proper and turns down the fire... "I didn't count on another tableguest, to be honest."
Jera opens the door once he is granted permission, pulling the bouquet of fl- He tosses it behind once he notices Trace is in the room as well. "Not what you think, really. Promise." He nods, and then closes the door behind him with his tail. He walks closer and puts his barrel of gifts at the foot of the bed. "Is this a bad time? I sent advance notice of my visit..." He bows politely to Trace. "Though the guards were still hesitant to let a Wirefur into the manor, despite the earlier help."
"Oh, no. I'm perfectly fine if Trace here is. To be honest, though, I'm a bit surprised that I'm having visitors - like Trace here said, I wasn't really expecting guests; maybe Flora wanted to surprise me. Most folks don't usually bother with the likes of me, although there are exceptions." Sveta coughs. "Your gifts are appreciated."
"To be fair, you probably weren't considered that much of a threat by the door guards. It's just that the High Lady has...quirks about folk coming in here. If you were, say, suspected to be with the bad side of the family, as she likes to put it, then you wouldn't have been allowed in at all."
"Anyway, introductions are in order. Trace, this is...Jera, did I get your name right? A freesword who answered that call for help a little while back. And Jera, this is Trace...He's...well...we haven't had a ceremony yet, but it's still unofficially official...um..."
"I... I've met mister Jera... He's helped me with my magic some," the kite mumbles as he readies the breakfast for Sveta, piling several plates of different kinds of food, carrying each plate to the bed in turn...
"I... Well, what Sveta said, yes. It's not official yet, but y'know," he mumbles, looking to Sveta again, and the piece of red yarn on the floor...
"Mmhmm. Yes you got my name right, but we have met before, but thank you for the introduction all the same. Now that Jera notices neither person seems to have an issue with the bouquet, he heads back and opens the door briefly for a moment to snatch it back up and then places it on Sveta's bedside. "Fireblossoms. Freshly picked. If you leave it in the sun you can use the petals for a pickmeup once the flowers wither and dry." The kit fox offers. "Are you healing well? I'm still deeply sorry I didn't come along with you. I could have ended your family feud right there and you wouldn't have been shot thrice."
"Oh!" Sveta says, seeming to notice the bouquet for the first time. "That's very much appreciated. I'm sorry, I just feel a little light-headed this morning. And while the thought is appreciated, I doubt that fellow was the true mastermind. Kill him, and another patsy takes his place." She pauses a moment, shakes her head. "No, I knew what I was getting myself into. It'll heal in a month or two, me being what I am...I changed, um...well, because I might heal faster like this. That's right."
There's a moment of silence as she looks down at the red yarn on the floor, then at Trace, still cooking away. "I think I need to stop being so cavalier with my life now, though."
Trace chuckles a little awkwardly as he looks towards Sveta, then back to Jera in silence as the two discuss the past events. He himself has very little to add, and simply finishes off the shuttling of food to the bed where Sveta rests, surrounding the goshawk with a cornucopia of food, most of it un-burnt... The eggs, though... He should've probably just thrown those out of the window.
"I changed out of... Sympathy?" he mutters a little uncertainly, looking to Sveta with a look that seems to suggest 'that works, right?'
Jera blinks. He looks at the charred eggs, and then at Sveta, gears finally pushing the dust off and starting to whirl as a bright red blush flushes across his ears, which quickly fold. "You don't...I mean... Yes. It'll heal faster, yes. If you want me to, I could carry you to Firebough on gryphonback as well to see the Phoenix elder. The phoenix dedication is renown for its quick healing, after all. Else!" He raises his hand for a moment as if to ask the couple to hold, reaching into his barrel to take out a smaller barrel. "Just got a shipment of Cliffside wine as well. I know these are a lot of presents but." He looks down. "Sorry. Should've been there."
Sveta nods at Trace, inviting the kite to tuck in along with her. Being the thin bird that she is, she eats like one, too, neatly and seriously - not much in the way of compliments for the food, but not much in the way of complaints, too, before pausing and looking a little dreamy. "Yes...sympathy. Ahem. Have you eaten, Jera?
"In any case, I've met the Elder a couple of times. A very nice woman. But no, that won't be necessary, although, once again, the thought is appreciated. I think a month or two of light duty would do me some good. And as for the wine...I'll have it sent down to the kitchens and shared with everyone. I personally don't drink - not that you were to know that - but there's no harm in sharing a good thing." Well, looks like she speaks her mind.
A nod, a small smile, and soon enough, Trace sits besides Sveta, still above the blankets, and silently eating from the food himself, still smiling towards Jera. "I... I don't drink either, sorry," he mumbles, almost apologetically, before holding out the plate of pancakes. "Do join us, really... Considering Sveta's appetite... I'm not going to be able to finish all this myself, y'know?"
Jera scratches his head, looking confused at the situation. He was wrong with his gifts? He thought only Selena eschewed wine. In favor of other alcoholic fruit juice, too! He's clearly a little boggled, dazed even as he pulls up a chair to sit at the bedside. "Well now. This is awkward. I wish I'd asked about for information before getting bad gifts." He politely declines the offered meal. "Only after you two've eaten. I do not wish to interrupt. I only came to check if Sveta's alright, after all."
Sveta frowns. "I don't drink. It's a habit my father instilled in me, and one that I came to agree with when I could understand his reasoning - it clouds the mind. I shan't deny others if they wish to partake, but I'll do as I like with myself." She wipes her beak daintily and slices off a small piece of pancake before spearing it on a fork and holding it out before Trace.
"Now...as you can see, I will live. Maybe these injuries, seen in another light, are a good thing. You should not fret over things you could not have known, or things that were out of your control, Jera. It's not a burden that's worth bearing."
A small nod, a click of Trace's beak, and he loops back towards sveta with a small smirk. "I have my own fork, hon," he mumbles, pointing at the fork in his hand, which has a piece of pancake on it. "No need to feed me right now... And mister Jera... I do insist you have some as well, while it's still warm. Try to avoid the burnt bits, please."
"As for gifts... I do agree with Sveta. They're not bad gifts... Simply a gift to share around," he offers with a small tilt of his head, even though he does sneakily take the piece of pancake offeret to him off the fork during a short moment Sveta isn't looking.
"Alright then. I suppose I shouldn't refuse good hospitality." Jera takes the first un-bitten pancake off the plate and folds it in his hands until it's a small quadrant, taking a small bite from the centre. Swigging from his flask after. "I don't mind slightly overdone pancakes, to be honest. The darker bits can get crispy." He nods at the two. "Fair enough. I guess it's a good thing the guy was such a poor shot." He stops getting distracted by pancake foods. "Right. Last thing. Well, more like a message than anything. I have decided to travel more often with the souled windrunners, so I will not be around very much at all next month onwards. But if you need our help with the Lady's...assailants, don't hesitate to call. I've stayed true to my word, after all."
"To be fair, not everyone can hold good aim when confronted with a wall of flame. Windrunners are quite exceptional, I hear. And I'm sure we shan't press on you any more than is strictly necessary." Sveta considers her words a little longer, then shakes her head. "Well, then. Thank you for your visit, and good journey, Jera. I'll still expect to see you from time to time, even if not as often."
A nod, a small smile as Trace looks towards the pancake Jera has chosen, before nodding along with both other beings, silently listening in. "If... You say so," he mumbles, cutting off the burnt parts of his own pancake, before grinning faintly and offering a sizable chunk to Sveta's beak with a small chirp. "I will also keep that in mind, mister Jera."
Jera nods, and decides that he
Jera nods, and decides that he's intruding. He leaves his presents beside, making sure to adjust the bouquet a bit so the revitalizing scent of fireblossom tea scents the room, released by exposure to sunlight, and then he bows politely and takes his leave.
