keep your teeth sharp 
Everything was starting to feel normal. It was beginning to feel likethe vast majority of his existence prior to when Ethel walked into it. The wilds of the lands he had visited and even those that he had called home had always felt more welcoming than to stand at the egress of his own front door. ' 'Home' had become something of ajail, a cage of memories so pleasant it was torture, a constant remainder of his failings, a never ending deluge of consequences from his actions. He couldn't wait to bring Yggdra here, the place she was meant to be raised once the war was over and he and his wife were permitted to return to their normal lives. Their daughter would have played with the other children in Sanctuary, she would have spent idle days dancing and spinning with her mother in her dance studio, mimicking the fluent motions she instructed with a cIumbsy charm only befitting a child's intent. 

But that wouldn't come true.
And that would only ever be get another 'what if'.

He'd avoided town for the most part, staying in the wilds for both the safety of those who lived there from questioning about his whereabouts. Just as much as it wasfor his own sake. The haunting notions of what could have, and should have, been were unpleasant ones to say the least. Today, however, he had chosen to venture in, unable to keep goods from those of less fortune. He knew manyof those who once prowled the forest paths in search of game were yet to return from the capitol, and as such, their families were to make due with what meager supplies they were left with or that a soldier's earnings could afford. With the looming threat of war, however, trips for trades were also quite rare as well.

So fresh cuts of red meat lingered in a bag, wrapped in skins and parchment alike, kept cool for the trip by the chilling waters of the river wild. Likewise, salted pelts clung to his shoulders, necessities provided for the swiftly approaching mountain winters. It wouldn't be long now before the first flakes of snow made their appearances at this elevation. The butcher was his first visit, the once familiar and bright features of the woman left bereft of her former vitality, the wrinkles of her brow now more pronounced than before. Despite the cover of his helm, recognition lit in her dark umber eyes, and accented her vocals as she spoke, "Been awhile. Most obliged, sir."

Solana Arylana Umeris There was a light shimmer to the midnight blue cloak that dressed the maidens crown.  Delicate hands drew the fabric closer to her person whilst limbs moved with precarious trek avoiding the looming scowls and gaunt dark glares that seemed to beheld many faces in recent times. A weary sigh escaped unusual painted lips. Mothers pulled their children closer to them as if they were drawing their children away from unseeing plague though she knew where those eyes wandered. The uncertainty and the unbridled fear caused by the clutches of war was of no aid, either. She’d lingered the sidelines of war and tended to those she was able. Yet – all too quickly did it seem as if innocent countless lives were dropping like flies. And for what? She redirected her focus to those in need of food, nourishment – something though not all were so eagerly willing to take from the maidens hand. Her tattoos aglow in a soft white, the scars that tarnished her flesh appearing almost otherworldly. A woven basket rested at her hip, hanging in the bend of her arm. Its contents were filled various fruits and vegetables she’d grown on her own – but with a little help of the green arcane thumb. The children were far more eager and she was no fiend to deny hungry claws as she extended various fruits. Celestial cyan-jade eyes soon found sights upon her true reason of travel was to visit the owner of the particular butcher shop. She assumed all too quickly that there was no company save for the occasional mouse or alley cat looking for scraps as she took in a breath to find even an inkling of resolve; “I’ve got that salve for you miss—”  Her basket fell carelessly from the hook of her arm. Oranges, apples, plums, beans, potatoes – it all escaped the crudely woven basket. Painted tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth as the physician cursed under her breath. “My apologies,” her nerves were quick to spurn her. “I can come back after another round the block,” She pulled her hood closer as if to intentionally hide unusual features and another hand reaching for the russet potato that ambled away from her. "oracle"

keep your teeth sharp 
The woman spoke lightly, her voice soft, holding a light edge to it that he couldn't quite identify. She was accustomed to his silence, and to the awkward words that he did mutter in reply to any inquiries she possessed. He didn't like the way her haggard gaze appraised him, unlike all of the other similarities, it wasn't the same as before. She'd always held a friendly air, but this was something else. However, her stare shortly became distracted as she was presented with the forest's bounty for appraisal. Her features became a bit crestfallen, as she separated the cuts into differing piles. "I can't pay you for anything more than this." She finally vocalized a source of her suddenly sullen behavior. "Business hasn't been too good since... well."

His weight shifted, his crown tilting slightly. "I don't need coin. People need to eat." He spoke the words simply. He knew that many and more were ruled by their greed for currency, and for many of those here, it wasn't mere useless need. It was becoming the mirror image of life and death. One that had his jaw forcefully clenched. The shop keep hesitated, her mouth opening and slowly closing before she went to speak, a faint trill of her vocals suddenly cut short as the door opened with the soft chime of the bell. “I’ve got that salve for you miss—” The stranger would also halt speaking as her basket slipped from her arm.

The contents spilled across the floor boards, fruits and vegetables rolling along the planks with audible commotion. “My apologies,” she hastily murmured. “I can come back after another round the block,” she would add as her fingertips pulled forward the cover of her cloak. Her skin was a deep, rich, midnight blue, illuminated faintly by the glow of markings that made their home among her forearms that were plainly visible with the motion. Quite outlandish. Easily marking her as an outsider in this town. A sensation he was familiar with despite his own distance being mostly self imposed. It was no secret, after all, that most of those who lived here were possessed by a fear of those not mortal as they were. This was supposed to be a hidden paradise for them. But nothing could ever remain so. The address of war had discovered them none the less in the king's jurisdiction.

He would bend, picking up the waxy peel of an apple, followed by whatever else lay close at hand. The action continued until he was close enough to offer the contents back to the basket where they rightfully belonged. "I was just leaving." He offered in objection to her own suggestion for her to return later. He did still have to leave the furs and hides with the tanners. He also still needed to ensure that Ethel would have wood for the chill of the evenings. A notion that stirred recollection, along with the scent of herbs that seemed to linger upon this woman and her whicker weave. "Are you a healer?" He would inquire, his voice lower as he straightened, hands now empty.

Solana Arylana Umeris War had time and time again proven to be unkind both before and the aftereffects of its cruelty. It brought the worst in others and the lack of trust against strangers was all the worse for wear. The eyes of judgement and sneering hiss of whispers did not go unnoticed passing by though Solana did well to ignore the ones who went out of their way to not step in the same direction as she, as if she were some cursed black cat treading its course. The foreign maiden was not one to go searching for trouble and yet it did miracles finding her. It was reckless of her to lose the basket within her arms as she pushed through the swinging door nearly unannounced. Apologies were quick to spill anxiously from painted lips for she wished no ill regard would come from the knight. Tempers of late seemed to ring higher than usual though who could blame them? I was just leaving. She reached for the same apple he’d collected. Celestial gaze blinked as they found the stranger in a stiff silence as she stood retrieving the misplaced produce. Are you a healer? She was slow to react to the question as it had come to her by surprise. “Y-yes sir, I am.” There was a pause as she took a moment to retrieve the salve that she had intended to bring to the maiden initially. “Pardon just a moment,” she murmured to dismiss herself for but a moment and approached the cashier but with more warmth and confidence. “Here you are, miss. Just apply the salve to your joints before bed and first thing in the mornings until gone.” She refused any payment and merely offered a warm smile. The gesture faded neutrally as attention once more returned to the knight, celestial sights quietly observing his outline. He did not appear outwardly harmed nor did an ailment threaten his health. “Do you require aid, knight?” "oracle"

keep your teeth sharp 
“Y-yes sir, I am.” She murmured in answer to his inquiry, the words sharp with nerves. A slight hum would leave him in uncertain consideration, reverberating softly through his chest and the visor of his concealing helm. “Pardon just a moment,” he would dip his head, his foot steps carrying him closer towards the door where he would recline momentarily. He supposed it was a stroke of good fortune that they'd crossed paths here. Despite his best efforts at cleaning the lesion in his arm, it still refused to seal itself, not becoming just a memory as most had in the past. He still had several errands to do, and Ethel would need wood for the colder nights.

He witnessed their exchange. The butcher's wife was getting on in years, he realized as she seemed to be prescribing her some salve for arthritis pain or some manner of joint discomfort at least. He was certain the work load that followed the departure of her husband also wasn't easy on her either. The resilience of Sanctuary was always something he'd admired for quite some time. The way the people here had dug in their roots and refused to simply give. It should be criminal that the draft had found them. None should have known of this peaceful existence, a want that sacrificed an easy life for one in search of the meager freedoms they could be afforded. Even their game had been hunted in some means to provide sustenance to the city of Odersten and its large population. He'd heard talk of the notice being posted when the shortage of food and supplies had at first become a threat. He'd loathed it for them, but he'd thought at the very least Ethel and Yggdra-

He shook his head, clearing away the train of thought before he could be claimed by the mire. He had too much to try and accomplish today to sink into the tides of loathing self destruction. “Do you require aid, knight?” His crown would tilt faintly, his gaze drifting from the femme to the shop keep who lingered at the counter. "Outside, if you don't mind." He would murmur, though his other hand would begin to unclasp the buckles of his gauntlet, edging the door open with his shoulder and holding the portal open for her should she deign to follow.

The leather and steel slipped free from his forearm, allowing him the luxury of rolling up his sleeve. The dark color purposeful in covering the blight of crimson that marred his skin, smearing as he revealed the still weeping gash high in his bicep, having bled through the cover of his tightly wrapped bandage. "Washed it," he begun, "but it won't stop. I've still got more work to do."

Solana Arylana Umeris She provided what fruits she had gathered too for the family before her attention would draw to the knight. Solana could not help but notice what she may have thought to see as dark impressions beneath his eyes and sights that had faced the wrath of war far one too many times be them internal or no. He was but a stranger, and each had a story of their own whether they wish to share or not. Outside, if you don’t mind. Her brow furrowed slightly as she glanced back of the company of the counter who simply dipped their head in thanks as slate and teal digits would push the door, exiting the building. Habit bid her to look either direction. Left, ahead, right and briefly behind her despite knowing the knight ampled behind her. Still, her guard remained ever on edge. The sound of sifting metal and untethering leather pulled her attention to the knight then once all presumed normal. His sleeve pulled away to reveal the scarlet stained gauze which wrapped his arm. Washed it, she looked to him for a moment then back to the torn gash. …but it won’t stop. I’ve still more work to do. Solana hummed curiously, “May I?” she asked gently placing a plush hand upon his forearm to better inspect – removing the bandages should she be allowed. “The wound is too deep to cease on it’s own.” she gathered. “In need of another cleansing, and salves to bid the threat of infection away.” There was an air of confidence in her tone that did not exist moments prior. She was far more comfortable in her craft – as if an entirely other individual. “I—” it was here she hesitated, uncertain if he should deny her. The hood of her cloak fell away, then, exposing elongated ears, pierced as well as the celestial nebula of her wavy hair tied in a loosely fitted braid. There was a slight scar painted her lip. The rest hid beneath the cloak she bore. “I can stitch it, won’t take but just a few moments, if you will.” She tried not to press. “Should do so sooner rather than later, I suggest.” "oracle"

keep your teeth sharp 
Though he didn't wish to burden the kindly woman with his ailments, let alone for word of injury to reach the ears of his wife, he knew better than the dame at the counter to spare him a blind eye and play ignorant. His only hope was that she didn't witness it personally to report anything, and at the very least she could see him seeking 'proper aid' as she had claimed it in the past. More than a few times he had earned her gentle scoldings when he had turned up with kills and furs for the shop to process that hadd left marks of their own. She always claimed he couldn't just rub dirt in it and walk it off, that folk would worry. That they would fret over dangers in the woods when their own husbands were destined for the hunt. Then word would almost certainly be mysteriously delivered to the dance instructor and he would be persistently hunted down.

In current days, he'd count himself lucky to escape with both ears.

“May I?” At her inquiry, he would proffer his arm willingly to her examination. The welling crimson slightly hastened as it was freed from the tight wrap that held it somewhat at bay. “The wound is too deep to cease on it’s own.” He would nod at her counsel, a possibility he had come to suspect on his own with its determined persistence despite what would be called his best efforts. Then again, he wasn't anything close to being called a healer. He barely knew enough to keep himself alive in the more dire of circumstances, little more than basic first aid. Things he didn't hesitate to apply to himself, accustomed to hunting and working alone, though he supposed others may find them.... barbaric at best.

"In need of another cleansing, and salves to bid the threat of infection away.” A quiet ah would leave him at that, his brow furrowing lightly as he looked once again to the blight. “I—” She would pause, halting herself and his attention would once more rivet back to her features. Her hood slipped from her crown, revealing in full the outlandish woman the resided underneath. Certainly, she would be catching every eye in town should he streets be as busy as they once were. However, in the aftermath of war and famine, there were precious few remaining to turn their heads. Something he was perhaps a touch grateful for so as to avoid the shroud of further suspicion himself, doing what he could to avoid drawing any unneeded attention his way. Even more so now with the lavish of a bounty placed on his shoulders.

“I can stitch it, won’t take but just a few moments, if you will.” Another nod found him. One such thing he had done before, one he'd rather avoid repeating considering the harsh pucker of drawing thread too tight. A deep, ugly scar left behind in painted memento. “Should do so sooner rather than later, I suggest.” "As you say," he would agree with ease. His shoulder rolled as he withdrew another square of coarse material from the satchel lashed to his belt to press to the lesion. "We can get whatever supplies you need for the job. I'll cover them, of course. Mm-" he halted for a moment, retrieving a smaller pouch of coin from his belt. "And this, for your trouble. Along with my thanks."