CHULANE
My attendance at the Kraai had become a fairly regular occurrence; it was warm, it stocked good drink, alcoholic or otherwise, and one could socialise if they wanted to. I enjoyed the hum of the busy environment, sometimes engaging in conversation and laughter, other times letting it flow all around me. It was the most interaction one could ask for during a time where the outdoors was potentially life-threatening due to the bitter, bone-biting cold. I was a bit of an ambivert, prone to introverted behaviours where I enjoyed and needed my alone time to recharge and process my thoughts, but also enjoying some social activities when comfortable and with familiar faces.
I had been here since just before the lunch rush, joining some acquaintances for a meal before sitting back at the bar to grab a drink. As I pulled up a stool, I noticed Weaver arrive with some interest, remembering with a wry grin our first meeting - she had been witness to me spectacularly failing to gather some planks of wood for Loren's healer's college building.
Watching the woman behind the bar reach for a recipe book, I can't help but notice the wrapping on her wrist that might indicate a wound being healed by 'traditional' means - I was surprised, as I learned more about this world, I learned that magic was rampart, and I had faith that had Weaver approached Loren for assistance the healer would have aided her without question.
"Hey Weaver," I say friendlily, smiling as I hoped to get her attention. "What's going on with your wrist?" I gesture vaguely at my own, attempting to mimic the position of the wrap on it, concern crinkling my brows as I await an answer.
I had been here since just before the lunch rush, joining some acquaintances for a meal before sitting back at the bar to grab a drink. As I pulled up a stool, I noticed Weaver arrive with some interest, remembering with a wry grin our first meeting - she had been witness to me spectacularly failing to gather some planks of wood for Loren's healer's college building.
Watching the woman behind the bar reach for a recipe book, I can't help but notice the wrapping on her wrist that might indicate a wound being healed by 'traditional' means - I was surprised, as I learned more about this world, I learned that magic was rampart, and I had faith that had Weaver approached Loren for assistance the healer would have aided her without question.
"Hey Weaver," I say friendlily, smiling as I hoped to get her attention. "What's going on with your wrist?" I gesture vaguely at my own, attempting to mimic the position of the wrap on it, concern crinkling my brows as I await an answer.
The only true wisdom is in knowing
you know nothing
you know nothing
