Stones, Sand & Sorcery
Evie Wordsworth
Apothecarist
Age: 27 | Height: 5'5 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 2 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 16 - Luck: 9
Played by: Brit Offline
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#1
Evie
It's Evie's first time outside of the barrier.

Her self-imposed exile had started around that time. She had burrowed into the hole that was the Wordsworth manor, frightened by all the changes and hoping if she just remained hidden for long enough things would change. In the end she had been wrong. But there was no time like the present to make up for lost time, and so she had ended up pulling on her thicker winter coats and sturdy boots before closing up the shop and heading north. Onward and aimless. Until she reaches the treeline.

The forest doesn't seem so sickly beneath the fine powder of snow that coats it. It conceals the darkness that lies beneath, smoothing over the taint with a thick layer of white that invokes ideas of purity and restoration. Though beautiful, there is no doubt the sickness still lies in wait, perhaps more dangerous now that it is hidden from view. While the woman inside who wants only to cure the Blight can't ignore such thoughts, they have no place in her mind today. Instead, she focuses upon the trees. Giant, looming guardians that welcome her into their sunspotted depths. It is far quieter than she is used to. However, instead of being oppressive it's...calming. Freeing. Like she can finally hear her own thoughts out here without the constant buzz of noise and anxiety drowning them out.

Evie doesn't exactly have a destination in mind, considering every patch of forest is foreign to her. She wanders and rests in intervals, enjoying her moment of solitude, until the sound of water catches her ears. Easy enough to follow it after that. Not so easy to comprehend what she finds when she ventures upon the bloody pool the water gushes into. Her curiosity is immediate and intense, sneaking onto the beach to stare wide-eyed at the vibrant lichen that stares back at her. It's beautiful, if a little daunting with how it so sharply resembles blood.

Evie fully intends to research it later, but for the moment she decides to simply sit there. Right in the sand, feeling the water spray gently up against her face as she finds a smooth enough rock to roll in her hand. Over, and over, and over. Finding comfort in the familiarity and repetitiveness of the motion, letting her eyes close and listening to the roaring of the water as it freefalls into the pool before her.

Peter
be the love you never received
the love you've always wanted
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Peter Launceleyn
Thief / Assassin ☆ Devil's Advocates
Age: 26 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 7
Played by: Johnny Offline
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Posts: 258
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#2
Peter
the seasons are turning into goodbyes I can live through


Where Peter came from, snow never fell. Even in the seasons when it was bitterly cold, and the night lasted nearly twice as long as the day, the ground stayed stubbornly dry. So, despite the cold, which he normally hated, Peter braved the outdoors, again and again, enchanted by the snow. He is bundled in nearly every scarf he owns, a number that would easily supply a large family, but not much else.

The longer he is out, the most expensive inviting the forest seems to be, with the majority of it insulated by thick vegetation, even if the trees are all bare now. It is rare that he goes places with a particular purpose, and this is no different. He’s been in the greatwoods enough times to know that he’ll be spat out where the woods decide, so there’s no point in him worrying about it.

His path ends at a great red pool, a place he’s been before. His mind goes to the undine, her pain and recovery, and how beautiful she was. And, for a moment, he thinks he sees her, a feminine shape at the waters edge. The corners of his lips turn up, the beginnings of a smile, and he steps forward. It isn’t until the second step that he realizes he’s made a mistake. That is not the undine, that’s something... someone else.

At this point though, he’s made too much noise to be ignored, and his options are to freeze and stand awkwardly, waiting for her to turn, or to call out himself. ”H-Hello!” He calls, barely louder than the current. When he hears how quiet his own voice sounds, he wants to smack himself. The sounds of his stumbling forward wouldn’t have been heard, but his voice is now impossible to ignore.
Peter is very heavily scarred, most noticeably on his hands

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Evie Wordsworth
Apothecarist
Age: 27 | Height: 5'5 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 2 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 16 - Luck: 9
Played by: Brit Offline
Change author:
Posts: 103
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#3
Evie
Her only company for countless minutes is the roar of the falls and the stone that she rolls in her palm. Evie's thoughts drift restlessly from one topic to another. Sam, the apothecary, her parents, Amalia...it is soothing to have limitless time to sit and allow herself to explore these topics naturally. Uninterrupted, unencumbered.

Glancing down at the little stone in her palm, she traces the edges with her free fingertips, eyes glazed over and staring into some distant horizon. Her life had changed so much in the recent years, and she feels aimless, lost. But here, with only the woods and the water, she is just another speck of life in the Greatwood. There is comfort in being a small piece of a big picture. Here, it doesn't matter that she was born wrong.

Footsteps draw her attention, jolting slightly as she's pulled from her thoughts, immediately turning to inspect the noise over her shoulder. Evie blinks stupidly at the image the man makes as he approaches, feeling just as foolish for being so caught in her head when the woods were not truly safe. His call is weak, tremulous, but it inspires a warm and welcoming smile upon Evie's face nonetheless. Patting the sand next to her, she turns halfway to gaze up at him, trying to seem harmless. As if she was threatening, with no weaponry and only a few inches on the man.

"Hiya," she calls back, fiddling the stone between both hands now and letting her legs kick out to splay before her. "Would you like to join me?" Hopefully he would, perhaps it was time to get out of her little mental rut. A sign from the mysterious woods, or whatever silly explanation she could use to conceal her own loneliness.
be the love you never received
the love you've always wanted
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Peter Launceleyn
Thief / Assassin ☆ Devil's Advocates
Age: 26 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 7
Played by: Johnny Offline
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#4
Peter
the seasons are turning into goodbyes I can live through


In the past, a world away, Peter’s sudden appearance had been met with many things, none of them necessarily good, or nice. At best, maybe screaming, or curses, but at worst, tears and fighting. Strangers were never a good thing, and he was as strange as they came. Instead of any of that though, the woman on the bank offered him a smile. Invited him to sit.

It made him worry, hesitate for a moment before moving at all. Blue eyes search over her figure for any tells of a weapon, any intention of malice. Of course she seems innocent, but so does a poisoned cup. After a moment, Peters trained eye decides that perhaps this cup isn’t poison, and he hesitantly steps forward, standing where she had patted the sand and agonizing over whether to sit or not. He did, if only to seem like threatening himself, crouched over beside her and looking at the river.

Moments like this always seemed to highlight just how terribly awakened he really was. Peter knew he should say something, or at least thought he should, but all he could think was how he’d lowered himself into an awkward position, and now he couldn’t move because he’d been settled too long. If he shifted too much, the woman might think there was something wrong with him. Though, if he was silent too long, she might also think that, and his eyes shot up to look at her.

”D-Do you usua... uso... do you often invite strange uh... strange men to sit with you?” The words sounded much worse out loud than the almost joke they’d been in his head, Peter physically wincing away from them after they’d been said. ”I’m so-sorry. Thank you.”
Peter is very heavily scarred, most noticeably on his hands

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Evie Wordsworth
Apothecarist
Age: 27 | Height: 5'5 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 2 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 16 - Luck: 9
Played by: Brit Offline
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Posts: 103
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#5
Evie
Evie marvels at the man privately in her thoughts, simultaneously amused and saddened by his hesitancy. It's like trying to encourage a skittish baby deer closer to a hand outstretched with a morsel of food in it. So she does what she would in that sort of situation, and waits him out, keeping her body language loose and her smile warm and patient as he shuffles and moves in ambling starts and stops. But he does come to sit beside her in the end, and Evie considers that a victory.

He sits stiffly, and Evie bites her lip, cheeks hurting as she tries and fails to restrain her smile at his obvious discomfort. She doesn't want to scare him away by making him think she's teasing him, not when she's so curious about him. Plus the company is appreciated. He does surprise her in the end by responding, and she shifts to look at him a little better, attentive and inquisitive.

Evie's grin finally breaks through, little streams of laughter bubbling off her tongue. He's so awkward, and she finds it endearing. Normally she would tease and harass, perhaps because she used to do such things to Sam, but those urges have disappeared over the years. The world is harsh enough already, she doesn't need to add to it. "If you tell me your name then you won't be a stranger, now will you?" The copper haired girl shoots him a cheeky smile, overlooking his apology for now. But she probably should introduce herself first she thinks, and slowly - hesitant to startle him when he seems so easily shaken - she holds out her small, dirt-stained hand to him. Cheeks flushing at the sight, she quickly withdraws it and brushes it off on her leggings before re-presenting it to shake his hand, embarrassed. She had been repotting plants in the apothecary before she'd left, and the soil was always stubborn on her skin.

"Sorry," she laughs self-consciously. "I'm Evie, nice to meet you strange man who has decided to sit with me." Okay so she hadn't been able to stop herself from teasing him entirely, but hopefully he wouldn't like, burst into tears or something. She'd probably start crying too.
be the love you never received
the love you've always wanted
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Peter Launceleyn
Thief / Assassin ☆ Devil's Advocates
Age: 26 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 7
Played by: Johnny Offline
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Posts: 258
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#6
Peter
the seasons are turning into goodbyes I can live through


Laughter is another first for Peter to be met with, and it’s clear her outburst surprised him, in the moments before he decides he should be offended. His brows pull together, and his cheeks puff out in a way that makes him look sillier than upset. Her laughter might feel uncalled for, but the redheads logic is sound, impossible to argue with. Others had told him the same thing, after all, so it must be right. ”I’m Peter.” The words are stern, so much so that it feels like he’s doing it on purpose now, falling into his own act.

A hand is thrust out towards him, a knife deflating his balloon of silliness and making him flinch, just enough that it’s obvious. Peter laughs nervously, trying to move past it before she can say anything. ”Di-dirt is okay. I don’t... you don’t need to be... to be sorry.” Somehow, the that accompanied her next words felt more like a joke he was a part of than one he was the butt of. The upward hook of his lips, leftover from his laughter, stays clinging to his face, not finding a reason to leave yet.

People in Caido are... nice. It’s the biggest change from his home, the one he’s having the most trouble adjusting to. But it’s nice. It keeps homesickness away from his chest, and his gut.

Peter realizes he’s been keeping company with his own thoughts, and not the girl who invited him to sit. Its difficult though. Small talk is not a skill that comes naturally to him, so he casts his eyes over the red pool and says the first thing it brings to mind. ”Did you come to see the lady too?”
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Evie Wordsworth
Apothecarist
Age: 27 | Height: 5'5 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 2 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 16 - Luck: 9
Played by: Brit Offline
Change author:
Posts: 103
MP:
#7
Evie
The man's face goes pouty at her ill-concealed giggling, affecting a stern expression that is too adorable and unsure to be of much effect, especially with his puffed cheeks. Evie nonetheless pulls on the most innocent expression she can at the look, miming zipping her lips even as their edges begin to curl helplessly in want of a smile. The company is appreciated, and in the small amount of time he has been lingering nearby, he has proven himself to be a curiosity. Amusing, at least. And when he offers his name, she files it away neatly, just as she does the flinch that is prompted when she offers her hand. Evie does not comment on it outwardly, not wanting to ask about old traumas, but her insides flinch in tandem with the man. She is a healer at heart, perhaps always meant to be one with how the magic had curled inside her from birth. Knowing anyone has been hurt enough for such a reaction makes her heart ache.

"See? Now we're not strangers," she says with an impish grin instead, because she'd rather be a warm flicker of fire for him to sit near than a flame that burns and reopens old wounds. He at least deigns to give his hand, and she shakes it gently, used to old manners drilled into her young head that tell her never to shake like a man. But his grip is gentle, though his hands have prominent scars that Evie refuses to let her eyes linger on, determined to see past them and keep the faint smile on his mouth as long as possible. It softens him, makes his anxiety a little less noticeable, and it reminds her of Amalia in a way that makes her crumple. Perhaps she'll learn the story someday, and her mind is already flitting through scar salves from her cabinet in her apothecary, but she bites her tongue to avoid asking.

"Not everyone thinks so, but thank you," Evie admits, a small degree of her own shyness coming through at his fumbling sincerity. Evie had been chastened countless times for her dirtied hands and darkened nails. It had created an anxiety about her cleanliness that her parents happily enforced, and to be fair not many people wanted to shake a dirty hand. At least Peter didn't seem to mind.

He's quite for a long moment, and now it's Evie's turn to try not to shuffle awkwardly. Her notorious confidence is a charade at best, and one she's reluctant to wield when he seems so tentative. So when he speaks she jumps a little, and turns her head to where he's gazing out across the water. "Ah, the shrine?" Best to clarify, since she's not exactly sure of the area or which god the shrine is devoted to. "No. They don't generally...respond to me." Detailed enough to be an explanation, but vague enough to keep her race a secret. It's a burden she hates bearing, but her tongue can never seem to free itself from the chains that have wrapped it up for years. "I was thinking about skipping rocks," she says instead, lifting the smooth rock she'd been fiddling with and showing it to Peter with a shy grin, laying it on the flat of her palm. "I'm terrible at it, but it's a good stress reliever."
be the love you never received
the love you've always wanted
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Peter Launceleyn
Thief / Assassin ☆ Devil's Advocates
Age: 26 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 7
Played by: Johnny Offline
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Posts: 258
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#8
Peter
the seasons are turning into goodbyes I can live through


Not strangers. Technically, Peter can’t argue with her statement, even though he knows that’s not quite true. He’s not going to press the issue, not when it really doesn’t matter. He has no sinister intentions, towards her or anyone else, and she seems to not have any towards him. In fact, Evie seems downright gentle, despite the teasing that maybe wasn’t. And she doesn’t mention his flinch, or ask about his hands, which makes the urge to hide them after they’re done shaking a little easier to quell. ”There’s... more impro... imprare... there’s worse things than... than um... dirt.”

Peter lost his train of thought near the end of his words, an embarrassed flush rising along his throat and cheeks at his stumble. He’d been doing well before that. His hands move in his lap, trying to work away some of his anxiety before it finds a way to trip his tongue again.

Evie seems confused by his question, just as he’s confused by her answer. ”No, no... shrine. They don’t... I just... I talk, and no one answers.” Peter shrugs, God’s had never answered him in his old home, why would they here? {aY}”I mean... meant... mean? I mean the lady, in the water.” He gestured towards the pool, as if that will help clarify. ”I saw her. But, when she was sick. Not healthy. Then... then she was.”

Blue eyes turn to look towards the crimson pool, trying to imagine a rock skipping along its surface. ”There wasn’t really... wasn’t... there wasn’t water like, where I come from. It was all... sand. And dirt.” He turned to look at Evie again, head cocked in a silent question.
Peter is very heavily scarred, most noticeably on his hands

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Evie Wordsworth
Apothecarist
Age: 27 | Height: 5'5 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 2 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 16 - Luck: 9
Played by: Brit Offline
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Posts: 103
MP:
#9
Evie
A laugh escapes her unexpectedly at his comment, nodding to herself and inspecting the small lingering traces of dirt still on her hands. "I suppose you're right, but you'd be surprised how many people shriek like they've seen a monster," Evie huffs her laugh between her lips, mist coiling against her mouth in the cold air. She'd certainly heard her mother's earsplitting wails of fury enough times to be conscientious of the presentation of her hands. Though he may understand that, with his own scars so prominent on his hands.

It's a good thing she asked, because Peter's words cause a wave of understanding over her face. Her tongue freezes in her mouth, throat constricting, but she forces herself to remember the love on Amalia's face, the understanding and support. The bridge she was tentatively building with Sam. Works to force the words from her mouth, though she's sure they come out raspy and hesitant. "Are you Abandoned too?" One little word, a single syllable, and yet it's a revelation she can scarcely stomach. Tying herself to him, to a race that so many hate. Even if he's not, at least Evie can sympathize with standing desperately before a shrine, an altar, and receiving nothing but silence.

Except a lady in the water sounds far more interesting, and the woman turns and stares eagerly at Peter, soaking up this new information. "She lived in the water?" How? Magic was powerful, but the energy expenditure wouldn't be feasible to breathe underwater that long. "What was she like?" Were there physiological differences? Her curiosity is fully activated, which makes it difficult to think about skipping rocks again, but she slowly holds out her chosen rock to Peter at his confession.

"I can teach you? It's very relaxing." He seemed like he needed that, and maybe she could give him something that would help him in the future.
be the love you never received
the love you've always wanted
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Peter Launceleyn
Thief / Assassin ☆ Devil's Advocates
Age: 26 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 7
Played by: Johnny Offline
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Posts: 258
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#10
Peter
the seasons are turning into goodbyes I can live through


Her laugh, soft and breathy, draws a more proper smile to Peters lips. He doesn’t quite understand what exactly is funny, it sounded so strange to him. There were more important things to worry about, weren’t there? He does look down at his own hands though, conscious of the patchwork skin covering them. There are definitely more important things to worry about than dirt.

There is something almost desperate in her next question, something that pulls Peters brows together and keeps his gaze locked on the crimson pool they’re sitting by. He hasn’t made a big deal about hiding what he was, hasn’t really seen the point, but this seems important to Evie. Seems like something he shouldn’t take lightly. ”I am. Do... do you want to see?” He offers, remembering that Rexanna had when they’d talked about it. His gaze moves back towards the red head, gauging her reaction, hoping he’d offered the right answer.

The interest in his words (not a story, not really) is a surprise, and Peter shifts now, letting himself relax, and grow more comfortable. ”I th-think she did. She had uh... fish parts.” He gestured to his own legs, trying to fill in the gaps in his explanation non-verbally. ”She was... she was sick, and then she wasn’t.” Truth be told, Peter still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened that night, he just knew she had recovered. It was really the only important part.

Peters inconsistent memory is interrupted by Evie holding out a smooth rock, then offering to teach him how to skip it, an offer that he nods to almost immediately. He’d never say no to learning something, even something as impossible sounding as skipping rocks.
Peter is very heavily scarred, most noticeably on his hands

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Evie Wordsworth
Apothecarist
Age: 27 | Height: 5'5 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 2 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 16 - Luck: 9
Played by: Brit Offline
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Posts: 103
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#11
Evie
His words sound so simple coming from his mouth, and yet they have a gravity he cannot possibly understand. Her heart feels as if it will rabbit from her chest at any moment, trying to hide the trembling of her hands as she nods jerkily. A desperation in her eyes, a need for kinship, for understanding. Trying to conceal it, but woefully unable to. Though she may be a proficient actress, this is her one weakness. Her Achilles heel. And this is a test, to see if she can ever tell anyone of her cursed nature in the future. "Please," she says softly, not wanting to come off as rude. Both terrified and curious of what powers the man might wield.

It's easier to laugh off her anxieties, the tremendous weight on her shoulders, when Peter gestures to his legs and says 'fish parts'. One hand rises to clasp over her mouth at the outburst, but her shoulders shake and her eyes are bright with ill-concealed mirth. "Fish parts?" she giggles from behind her palm. "You have to be more descriptive! She could have had a fish head for legs! An...eye catcher perhaps," and here she dissolves into helpless giggles at her own ridiculous play on words. Only once the spasms of amusement calm does she drop her hand back to her lap, trying to get her breathing - and propriety - back under control. "I'm glad she's no longer sick though. It seems we all have been lately, either from the weather or the Blight."

It's not the happiest thing to think about, so Evie is delighted when Peter nods, happily handing off the stone and plucking another from the ground. She levers herself off the sand, gesturing for Peter to follow her as she walks down to the waters edge. "Now, the best way to do this is to put the motion in your wrist, and try to throw horizontally instead of up or down. You want to skim it off the surface of the lake, not drop it in. And to throw it quickly, so it has a nice burst of speed." Here she slows her gestures, showing the snap of her wrist in slow motion before turning and whipping the stone out at the lake. It skips cheerily three times before disappearing, the ripples spreading out before dissolving into nothing. Turning, she grins at Peter and gestures for him to try.
be the love you never received
the love you've always wanted
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Peter Launceleyn
Thief / Assassin ☆ Devil's Advocates
Age: 26 | Height: 5’3” | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 7
Played by: Johnny Offline
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Posts: 258
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#12
Peter
the seasons are turning into goodbyes I can live through


Peter hesitates, looking Evie up and down. Her muted, manic energy is putting him on edge. There’s pressure on him now, some kind of expectation. He always hated to disappoint, but this wild feel especially bad. Instead of responding with words, he just nodded, just as shakily was she had, and tipped his head out towards the water, gesturing for her to look. The surface of the water rippled, then bulged out, the feeling strong enough to make Peter turn and look. Well. A geyser had shot up, like a sea monster rearing it’s head. At least he wasn’t going to disappoint. ”It’s... I don’t... usually it’s smaller.”

It’s all he can do to just shake his head and smile along with her while she laughed. It was hard to not smile was she was laughing, as long as he could keep the idea that it was with him and not at him. ”Yes fish parts! A... a tail!” He wiggles his fingers over his thighs, mimicking a tail again. Evie sobers though, and he does along with her, mimicking her tone. ”I’m glad... glad she is too.” The spirit, the Undine had been too pretty to waste away from sickness.

The invitation to move was gladly accepted, Peters knees starting to cramp just a little. Blue eyes focused on the movements she started to show him, and he nodded along to her instructions. ”How... do you know I won’t uh... cheat?” He tried a joke again, then wound up and threw the stone, skipping it twice before it sunk into the water. Wrinkling his nose at the sight, he turned back to Evie, eyes downcast and looking for a second stone. ”I guess... you know by that.”
Peter is very heavily scarred, most noticeably on his hands

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