[SE] borrow your time

karma's a relaxing thought, aren't you envious that for you it's not?

The Ahi Coast always took on a different personality during Deepfrost. The usual salty heat was softened by a cooler breeze, the sand damp beneath Flora’s boots as she moved along the line of torches that gave the coastline its name. The flames, normally proud and bright, flickered weakly in the chill, and a few had gone out entirely. With LongNight approaching, this wouldn’t do.

Clad in a cropped sweater and high-waisted pants that gave her a chic but practical air, Flora tugged at the edge of her gloves, squinting up at the next torch in need of care. "Just a little taller," she muttered to herself, stretching futilely. Her fingers brushed the edge of the wooden post but couldn’t quite reach the clasp she needed to tighten.

That’s when she spotted her.

The woman was strikingly broad-shouldered and tall, her build speaking of strength as much as her confident stride through the sands. Flora’s aqua eyes lit up, her lips curving into a grin as she stepped back, planting her hands on her curvaceous hips. "Hey, gorgeous!" she called out, her playful tone carrying easily over the sound of the waves.

If and when the woman glanced her way, Flora’s grin would widen. "You look like someone who knows their way around a stubborn torch post. Care to give me a hand?" She raised a brow, tilting her head toward the unlit torch. "I’ll make it worth your while—free drinks at The Hanged Man for the trouble."

The offer hung in the air like a challenge, Flora’s confidence as radiant as the dimming light around them. If the woman was the least bit hesitant, Flora had already decided she’d throw in a wink for good measure. After all, who could resist a queen’s invitation?

Brokkrid turned around and looked at where the "Hey Gorgeous!" came from. She didn't see anyone else in the immediate vicinity and thought herself rather a good catch, despite being single. She looked down a bit and saw the curvaceous owner of a set of eyes that spoke of a sea in storm. Brokkrid gave her best smile, flashing her pearly whites as she tilted her head, "I suppose I am good for that sort of thing." She admitted, though a post puller would probably do the woman better.

Brokkrid tested the sand with her boot, since it was closer to the shore it still had some give, rather than being the cement of the sand which was more established further into shore. "Free drinks are always appreciated, as is good company." She returned the wink, wondering who this woman was. Her sun-kissed skin spoke of either long walks on the beach or someone who worked outside. The free drinks spoke of money, or owning the inn in question, or perhaps both.

Brokkrid's emerald eyes sized up the other individual in a matter of moments, but then again, her appraising eye had been thrown off by the last few months' encounters. The rake that she had met in the maze coming to mind, and his relative slight build made her hesitate in her appraisal, maybe the woman was stronger than she let on.

Brokkrid looked up at the lamp, and the clasp that hung loosely around the collar of the torch, which let the chill wind coming from the ocean blast the lit flame. Brokkrid set down her pack, took out a pair of tongs and a small hammer and set about reworking the pin and clasp so that it was true, and then focused on the flame of the torch for a good half-minute, willing the flame to still and grow in intensity.

The flare in light illuminated the woman, who was wearing finer clothes than Brokkrid could afford with a year's worth of savings. Still, she did call Brokkrid gorgeous, might as well capitalize, "So, you said you wanted to buy me a drink? I don't even know your name though." She put away her tools, wiping her hand on an almost clean rag before extending her large hand in greeting, "Brokkrid," She said, "My friends call me Riddy."

karma's a relaxing thought, aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Flora watches Brokkrid work with a mixture of genuine admiration and self-satisfaction, her aqua eyes lighting up as the torch's flame flares back to life. "Well, look at that," she huffs with obvious relief. "And she even has her own tools."

When Brokkrid turns back to her, introducing herself with an extended hand and an easy grin, Flora doesn’t hesitate. She slips her smaller heavily-ringed hand into the other woman's, her touch warm despite the chill in the air. "Riddy, huh?" Eyeing the abandoned and finding something novel in the way the nickname seemed almost cute in a way that Brokrrid's muscular frame was at odds with, the queen grins and nods.

"As for drinks," Flora continues, letting her hand linger in Brokkrid’s for just a moment longer than necessary before letting go, "I said you’ll drink for free because I happen to know the owner of The Hanged Man pretty well. She owes me a favour or two." Her tone is all playful mischief, and the sly curve of her lips is one that Riddy might recall later when it's revealed that said owner is actually the blonde standing before her.

"I'm Flora, by the way," she adds, stepping back and gesturing toward the distant glow of the tavern lights up the beach. "I’d say I’m pleased to meet you, but honestly, I’m more pleased you saved me from ruining my sweater trying to fix that thing." She tosses a wink over her shoulder before starting up the path, her pace leisurely as she leads the way.

"So, Riddy," she says conversationally, glancing up at the taller woman as they walk. "You planning on staying in Torchline long?" The fact that she had no idea who Flora was by sight suggested she wasn't from Torchline, and while she certainly didn't mind who came and went within her region, she absolutely was nosy about it.

And so the conversation continued.

~FIN