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It had only been an hour, maybe two, since the young girl stepped off the ship she'd been stuck on for several weeks. Her walking was unbalanced, she still felt a little nauseous, but more than that she was starving. Her eyes were searching for whatever it was her nose smelled, eventually spotting a vender a ways away who appeared to be roasting things over a spit. The hungry girl walked over to the man, digging out her coin purse while she did so. When she placed her order and handed him some of what little was left of her funds, he just stared at her. For a moment, he contemplated if she was serious or not, but upon noticing just how dirty she was and how distracted with the food she seemed to be, he realized she was very serious. With a soft sigh, he took the money and gave her one of the older pieces of meat, but he assured her it had only been left out for maybe half an hour. She didn't seem to care, though, considering how adamantly she thanked him, especially after he explained that her coins had no value here.

It was winter, but it was warmer than it should have been. At least, in her opinion. She noticed this as she walked away, chowing down on her chicken, walking back south toward the docks. On her way, to the west she spotted a large opening and a small pond within it. No one was really there, except for maybe a few children running around minding their own business. So instead of going back to the docks where it was cooler, she went over to the clearing and seated herself. Her hood was down, her dirty hair fully visible. Everything about her was dirty, except for the cloak, gloves, and even boots. Well, no, the boots were covered in a small film of dust, but she patted it off with ease with her free hand and the boots were like new again. All of the items were black with undertones of different colors. The cloak, when hit with light, appeared to almost have a deep greenish hue within all the black. The same goes for the gloves and the shoes (except the shoes had orange undertones). The blouse of her dress was a burgundy hue, while the skirt was a medium violet, and she wore some sort of leather armor on her upper half, though it was all mostly hidden by the dense cloak.

Despite seeming otherwise calm while within the city, she was still a bit jumpy, which could have been noted if one was paying close attention, but she doubted anyone would be gawking too much so there wasn't much to worry about. She stared at the bone in her hand. That poor chicken didn't last too long.
In a city, most people are busy doing their thing. Even those that are walking around are usually walking toward something or back home. One might measure the enlightenment of a city based on the amount of leisure time its citizens have. For a city to have a large open park with a pond, and yet no one is in the park suggests that perhaps it is left over from more prosperous times. Regardless of whether this is true or not, the result appears to have offered a relatively quiet corner surrounded by the bustle of a city. One might imagine that it is just such a quiet corner that another traveler now seeks out, as he rides into the park.

Immediately and obviously an oddity, this person is not riding on a horse, but a large English Sheepdog. There is a saddle, and small saddle bags but no reigns. The rider is very small, like a small child, but clearly has the bearing and features of an adult, simply smaller. In fact, he has white hair and a white beard with some length to it, concealing his shirt's collar and not much more. His clothes are well maintained, but also well used traveling leathers in various similar shades of brown. A leather cap would keep most of the rain off if it were raining, but for now it is mostly decorative.

He walks the dog up toward the pool somewhat near the woman with the chicken bone and dismounts. The dog takes this opportunity to lap lazily at the pool, clearly not dehydrated but happy to have some water. The man is only barely taller than his dog's head, and clearly it outweighs him significantly. He smiles at his dog enjoying the water, then takes a moment to slowly enjoy the park and take note of all its occupants. His eyes stop on the chicken bone in the dirty woman's hands and an idea dawns in his eyes and on his smile.

“Excuse me miss, I couldn't help but notice the bone you have. Do you plan to eat that, or could you possibly part with it? As you might well imagine, Ruffles here rather likes bones, and it would seem like a terrible waste to simply discard it.” His voice is not deep by human male standards, but still surprisingly deep for one so small. He speaks very fast, but it is clear and understandable, with remarkably precise diction at such a high speed. It is almost as if your ears hear each word correctly, but your mind takes a moment to catch up to the rapid pace before the sentence is clear.
Evelyn didn't notice the man on the dog walk up to the pond, at least not until they were already nearly there and near-about addressing her. She stared at her bone, having stripped it of all meat, and smiled to Wenals.

"Not at all," she said quietly, reaching out her arm with the bone between her fingers. She didn't seem too cautious around the animal, but she had her own reasons for that. She was damn Snow White when it came to nature! During meditation, she'd often open her eyes at the tail end to discover a rabbit sitting nearby, or a fox carefully approaching. This was only a couple of things, however, and it wasn't too important to go over.

She decided to make conversation. Might as well try to seem at least somewhat normal, right?

"What brings you here, sir? If you don't mind me asking...?" she asked, a little smile pulling at her lips. Her face was very young, maybe about fifteen at best, but the way she spoke and how she behaved suggested she had an old soul. Like she had experienced some things that wizened her.
"What indeed? Such a simple question with so many answers. Do you mean what mode of transportation did I use to get here, to this park? Then it would be Ruffles, my trusty steed. Do you mean how did I come to be in this land? Then the answer is much more complex, likely beyond your ken. Perhaps you were instead querying me on my motives for being in this land, or city or park talking to you, or perhaps all of the above. That would be a lengthy answer indeed. If indeed your inquiry was so pervasive, it seems slightly incongruous with a first meeting. Oh, perhaps it is simply a variation on hello!" This little bearded man speaks so fast, it is difficult to interrupt him. He does seem to like his last option, and holds out a weathered and tiny hand in greeting.

"My name is Wenals, this is my able steed Ruffles, and it's a pleasure to meet you young one. What brought me here was the pool and the thought of your bone for Ruffles." He takes the offered bone and flips it to Ruffles with a practiced gesture, for which he is clearly prepared, as he catches it and begins chomping at it right away.
Evelyn just stared at the man, a genuine smile stretching across her face. Oh how he reminded her of Mortimer, her late mentor, the court wizard. A sort of sadness seeped into her nostalgic expression, although it lasted but a moment before she opened her mouth to speak.

"I was asking more about what brings you to this town. I hear people ask that to strangers more often than not, and it's usually a mundane conversation-starter, but it's still rather friendly. I like your response," she replied, stifling a small giggle. Her eyes caught sight of that hand and she grabbed it gently, giving it a very limp-wrist shake. "And it's a pleasure to meet both you, Mr. Wenals, and your beautiful companion. I'm Evelyn of Ca-" she stopped herself abruptly, shaking her head. "Evelyn. Just Evelyn."

She couldn't tell anybody where she came from, the paranoia clutching tightly at every bone in her body, screaming at her not to or consequences would be endured. She was the daughter of the duke there! She didn't know how well-versed people were in the affairs of England, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

((OOC note: It's a compleeeteeely fictional version of England, so I highly doubt it'll be too accurate! I'm sorry! Haha.))
Wenals is not strong, but he is also not limp-wristed. He clasps Evelyn's hand in his own smaller one, then places the other hand on the other side for a two handed shake of the fast and vigorous sort, clearly an energetic creature, especially for one that looks so old.

“Hello and well met Evelyn, Just Evelyn, that's an odd name, a little like a palindrome, but different.” he offers a half of a wry smile as evidence that he is well aware of her name and is just having fun with words. “What brings you here, madam? If you don't mind my asking? It would be a little odd if you did mind a reciprocal question, especially when it seems to be most of the purpose in asking in the first place. I mean it in the sense of wondering how someone of such bearing, noble unless I miss my guess, would find herself all disheveled on a park bench in a foreign land, gnawing on chicken bones? This place is a little different, but humans everywhere are pretty much the same, I've always thought of that as an odd phenomenon, but unless I miss my guess again, I'd say you're a little young to be wandering about on your own, especially without a guard or at least a guide. Begs the question, wouldn't you say?”

If he paused to breath somewhere in there, it was so fast as to be unnoticeable. It's a good thing he's very precise with his words, otherwise it would be impossible to tell where one ended and the next began. He lets Evelyn's hand go somewhere around the bit about gnawing on chicken bones, which is a blessing because he was beginning to risk shaking her teeth loose. Ruffles makes quick work of the chicken bone, and starts poking Wenals with his nose, looking for more.
Evelyn just watched the man as he babbled, although she could only get shaken blurs considering how much he was shaking her hand. It wasn't as severe as it sounded though, as she was easily able to point out every distinguishing feature on his face and outfit, but what she saw was twitching a bit. After he let go of her hand, she went back to attempt to reconstruct what he said in her own mind, only to feel incredibly nervous. Noble? Young? Alone? Her fingers toyed with their twins, noticeably acting on that nervousness she felt. She looked down and thought for a moment.

"You're observant," she said quietly, attempting to add a chuckle in there, but it just didn't sound too right. Too uneasy. "I didn't want to live in the country I was in before anymore. That's all. And don't worry about the noble bearing - that's not quite true. I just got lucky in coming by clothes such as these." Uh. No. You're a terrible liar, Evelyn! She didn't want to explain to anybody that she practiced witchcraft and mingled with the witches. Even a court wizard like Mortimer probably wouldn't accept that. Well, he might have, she was always his favorite. And vice versa, too. Still, she was struggling with a good enough story to cover up the real one. Now she found herself stroking the soft plumage of her cloak, always finding comfort in that. It soaked up heat, but didn't overheat her. It felt as if she was constantly being held by a comfortably warm person, something motherly.
Wenals holds up a hand and offers a slight bow in apology. “My apologies Evelyn, Just Evelyn, I simply noticed how well your garments fit you and presumed they were tailor made for you. What a remarkable coincidence to have found such wonderful things available in precisely your size. I have often wished I were so lucky. Sadly I live mostly in the provinces of humans, who are as you surely know, much larger than I am. Everything I own had to be tailor made, as I am well outside the realm of simple modifications. It is a bit of an inconvenience, but at least it results in a comfortable fit, and some rather long lasting garments. I suspect I have robes that are older than your parents, wherever they are. Speaking of which, do your parents know where you are? Are they worried about you or looking for you? Perhaps they're chasing you and you're fleeing from them, or someone else? Or maybe you're an orphan and simply wandering?”

Ruffles decides that Wenals does not have anymore bones, chicken or otherwise, and huffs disappointedly, with a surprisingly human shake of his head. He then heads over toward Evelyn to poke his nose at her pockets and lick her hands if she lets him.
"It's Evelyn--" she interjected, attempting to correct him when he'd speak her name, but her voice was barely louder than a whisper.

Wow. Just... wow. He could go on and on, couldn't he? Evelyn's lips twitched into a small smile as he began to talk again, her eyes flitting down toward her lap and smile fading when he mentioned parents. She seemed torn between emotions, now. Anger (though not toward Wenals), hurt, longing, sadness... all of those attempted to surface in her otherwise composed being. What was this about fleeing, now? Evelyn's head jerked back to stare at him, almost gently accusing him of knowing, not guessing, too much about her. It was almost a questioning gaze, as if she was asking, "You know a lot, but how?" or some such thing. Never once did she look aggressive or unpleasant, though. Somehow, despite all the negative emotions welling up in her, she remained a gentle, pleasant person to speak with. Perhaps the topic wasn't pleasant, but she was.

"I hm... I can't talk about it right now, sir," she whispered, glancing around at the playing children, then to the folk on the streets a short distance away. She was picking at her fingernails now, evidently nervous but trying to keep her cool. He was a different sort, and she might not be afraid of sharing information with him were they without potential prying ears. "I'm sorry," she finally added. It was a genuine apology.
Wenals offers a warm smile, friendly and even compassionate. “My apologies again Evelyn, I did not mean to pry, I have been told that sometimes I run on a bit without thinking. When I ask too many questions or just the wrong sort of questions it can make humans uncomfortable, which is not my intent. You have clearly been traveling for a long time and have not yet had time to check into an inn. I have a house on the edge of town that I am renting while I stay here, it is human sized and far too large for me, there are a couple rooms I haven't even looked into yet. I was just heading back there, having concluded my business in the market for the day. Why don't you let me treat you to lunch, and you can clean up a bit before we eat. It will save you from having to sort out which inn is full of drunkards and which inn is only half full of drunkards. I am no culinary master, but sometimes simple fare is the best kind, especially for a weary traveler. I've done quite a lot of traveling in my time, so I am a bit of an expert on the subject. I've been to the desert, and even scaled an active volcano, not a lot of food up there, and you feel like taking a bath for a week afterward, soot everywhere, not pleasant.”

Ruffles perks up a bit at the mention of lunch, and circles back around to stand next to Wenals, facing the same way. It's almost as if he's encouraging Wenals to hurry up and climb on, so Ruffles can take them both home for some food.
Evelyn didn't mean to ignore that poor puppy! She had only just realized she did just that. My, did she feel terrible. Her eyes focused now on Wenals instead of the dog as he spoke, listening intently. She didn't realize he was going to offer her to stay for lunch there until he mentioned traveling again. On top of the rather generous offer, her interest was peaked by his story of scaling an active volcano! She was smiling wide with wonder, but said nothing of that. She then remembered his offer, and, if possible, smiled a little bit wider.

"Oh, that would-- well, are you sure? Positive? Is that really alright? I can pay you compensation! Even though the coins are worthless here...," she trailed off at the end, her voice a bit lower in tone than usual. Still, even though she was trying to be polite, she was eager and almost desperate for a real lunch. A single chicken wing would suffice, but it wasn't a full meal. It didn't fill her stomach. And this was entirely much better than sifting through inns and dealing with the drunken banter within them. It was so hard to sleep in those places.

My, how the tones of this conversation had changed. Evelyn was now almost excited, whereas before she felt uncomfortable and afraid of her own words. Now she was practically chanting in her head for him not to change his mind. Praying, even.
Wenals climbs up into Ruffles' saddle, settling himself with a familiar ease and patting ruffles on the neck. “I insist, Ruffles is hungry and so am I. Your coinage may not be the same as the coins here, but I have not been to your country, so the novelty outweighs their worth. If you would give me one of each type of coin you have for my collection, I'm sure that will more than cover your stay. As I said before, I am staying just outside of town, it is a short walk from here so we had best be on our way.” Wenals points up the hill, away from the water and docks, vaguely gesturing in the direction of his home.
Evelyn bowed her head momentarily and she smiled. "Thank you again, Mr. Wenals," she said. She got up and walked beside him, and would continue to do so when he began his trek back. She didn't mind walking, especially since she was stuck aboard a ship for a considerable length of time. Her mind was elsewhere, though, during the entire duration of the trip, contemplating flying (even though she could only sort of... glide with the aid of her cloak), considering the risks of blabbing too much to this strange man, things of that nature.

Despite her mind being somewhere far away, her eyes still glanced at anything earthy. Trees, hills, dirt, grass, bugs, birds... all of it. She soaked in each image like she needed them to live, smiling just a little bit when she'd see something she especially liked, but it was faint and disappeared quickly. She looked at peace.
Wenals rides in silence, for about thirty seconds. Then he just starts talking again, as if he has to talk to survive, like breathing. The precise details of what he says are irrelevant, and most of the words are washed away by the deluge of other words anyway. Some of the more recognizable thoughts were things like, “It's been a long time since I've had a traveling companion, even if we're not really traveling all that far, other than Ruffles. I'm sure you can imagine that he's not much of a conversationalist.” “You must really like the trees, most people just walk on by them as if they weren't even there. You could hide a Minotaur behind a skinny tree and most people would never even know, humans are so oblivious to their surroundings.” “Is it a peaceful time for your homeland or are they embroiled in war? Humans are always starting up wars out of boredom, I think most of human nations I have visited have spent more time at war than at peace, astounding every time.” “Do you like lamb? I hope you like lamb, I do and I think it might be the only thing I've got. Of course I have lots of it, and some sides and seasoning of course, but that goes without saying.”

The question of Lamb comes up very near the end of the journey, which could not have totaled more than a quarter of an hour. Having left the main road for a path or perhaps driveway, a few minutes prior, there is now a break in the trees and a short three foot tall wall made from stones. The road passes through a deliberate gap in the wall, which is clearly designed to simply remind people that this is the border, as it could never keep anyone out. At the top of the hill, which is sparsely populated by apple trees, sits a friendly looking house. It has clearly been there for a while, but it is well maintained. Single story with perhaps a half dozen rooms and a porch with some rocking chairs.

“Welcome to my humble abode.” Wenals does not even pause to allow a breath or thought on the subject of lamb. “Well, it isn't mine really, I'm simply renting it from a family that went on vacation. They were very friendly indeed and didn't want to leave the house empty for fear of bandits. Me being so small, they weren't sure how much difference I would make, then I reminded them about Ruffles, he can be very fierce indeed you know, especially if someone tries to take his food. Never come between Ruffles and his food.” Everything Wenals says is in an amused and lighthearted tone, so it's difficult to know if he's serious about Ruffles or not.
Evelyn would likely snap back to listen to the man, and to respond, though her eyes were always focused on the trees and such around her. "I love the trees. They are born and live in the same place that we do. They are pure things, helpful things. They feed us and other wildlife. They offer shelter for small creatures. I absolutely adore trees." "My homeland is not peaceful. Perhaps it is for those who aren't accused of lies and exaggerations. But for the rest, it's a frightening time. I wouldn't call it a war, though." She wound up sighing and mumbling, "...More like a massacre." "I love lamb! Oh, that sounds so pleasant. It's definitely one of my favorite meats. Or maybe it is my top favorite meat? I'm not sure...."

Looks like that got her attention! She bounced from a neutral tone (when she spoke of her homeland) to an excited one when lamb was mentioned. Her eyes scanned the house and she grew eager to run inside, but she controlled herself (barely!) and remained at Wenals' side.

"It's a darling house," she complimented. "I will hand you the coins when we get inside, I'm terribly clumsy when it comes to handling small things while moving." She glanced at Ruffles when he was talked about, a smile gracing her features once more.
Wenals rides Ruffles right up to the door, judging from Ruffles' familiarity with the maneuver, it's something they do all the time. It seems a little odd at first, certainly from a human perspective, but as Wenals unlocks the door, it starts to make a little more sense. Unlocking a human sized door might be quite challenging for Wenals, unless he were sitting on Ruffles for the extra height. Once the door is open, Wenals checks the bottom of his shoes, which are almost pristine since he rides everywhere, pats Ruffles on the neck and goes inside without him. Ruffles is apparently familiar with this plan as well, as he happily goes around the house for some unmentioned reason.

“Keep your coins for after lunch, I would rather select them carefully, and that's hard to do on an empty stomach. Leave your shoes by the door if they are muddy, the rooms are in the back. I'll get a fire started and there should still be water in the attic basin. It's really quite ingenious, the well pump can send the water directly to the attic over the stove, to be heated for use in the house. There is a basin in the washroom you can use to draw a bath, and I'll bet you can find some clothes in one of the closets that fit you, though I doubt they will appear tailor made. I have been using the bedroom on the right, there are two on the left that I've only glanced in that you can choose from.”

The house is clean and spartan, with the wood construction polished and treated, but left unpainted. Everything is human sized, and there are little step stools everywhere. The main room is large and has comfortable looking furniture in it, including the dinner table with chairs at one end, and some chairs just for sitting in at the other. Separated only by a counter is a kitchen/pantry area with an all metal stove that looks like it is set up to heat the rest of the house as well. Past the kitchen is a hallway, toward which Wenals gestured when he mentioned rooms on the left.
Evelyn reluctantly took her shoes off. She stood at the door for more time than she should have, contemplating whether or not she should peel them from her feet. They weren't too muddy, but she didn't want to upset him by tracking in even a little bit of dirt. After a while, she took them off, and walked barefoot. It was the first time in a long time, and memories of the place she ran through sent shivers down her spine. She shook her head and walked closer to Wenals, seeming to have a strange way of walking. She lost all essence of feminine steps, replacing them with something that could have been more feral

The word 'bath' rang through her ears and a smile immediately found its way on her face. "M-may I?" she asked, just a little too excited but also a bit too nervous to speak fluidly. If she got her answer as yes, she would wait until he finished speaking and practically scurry to the bath. She was dirty. Her face, her hair, her skin... even the cloth of her dress and her leather armor were dirty and worn. Not the cloak though. Or the gloves or boots, but everything else was in moderately worn shape.

She would likely be gone a long time. Later, when she would return, she would do so with one of the dresses she found in the closets, along with her gloves on her hands, her cloak around her shoulders, and her original dress moderately wet (though not dripping much) and in her arms. She excused herself and went outside, then draped the dress over a nearby tree's branch. When she returned, she went to find Wenals.

"Would you like help?"
Wenals does offer a yes, in his long winded way “I always like to take a bath after a long trip, I just assumed you would too. You're welcome to use it as long as you clean up any mess you make.” He then busies himself with making a fire and then lamb sandwiches while Evelyn takes her time as expected. Outside, there is a single nearby apple tree, which has apples and a chothes line already attached. It dips down to about five feet high, still far too high for Wenals to reach without a stepladder, which is not nearby if there is one.

By the time Evelyn comes in, there are two sandwiches set on plates at the table, each with a cup of apple juice nearby and a small dish of mustard with a knife in it, just in case. “Not necessary, I hope you're feeling better now, and lunch is ready. I made you a bigger Lambwitch since humans always eat so much more than I do, but there was still plenty left for Ruffles. I know mustard isn't for everyone, and this is rather sharp mustard, so I left it on the side in case you want it. That dress looks like it fits you well enough. Have a seat, we will enjoy our lunch and then we can talk.”

Wenals sits by the smaller sandwich, still quite large in his diminutive hands, and begins to eat at a patient pace. One might imagine he is accustomed to regular meals of sufficient size, and likely has been for a very long time.
Evelyn might not have caught sight of the apple tree until she was readying her dress to be draped over the branch she had her eyes locked on. She was sort of out of it, probably from actually being able to relax, but once she did see it she pinned the dress to the wire and went back inside.

The sandwich wasn't going to stand much of a chance. She tried not to seem overly eager, but as soon as he said the word 'not' she was already seating herself. She wasn't about to take the sandwich without him picking up his first, as she felt it was rude. But once he did, it was fair game. She dressed it with plenty of mustard and probably ate it much faster than would be considered ladylike. Aside for the chicken leg and this, she hadn't been able to eat much meat lately. She would have had to kill her own, and she loved animals too much to do that. In the middle of her eating, she forgot to say thanks, and decided to thank him after struggling to swallow a large mouthful. With that said and done, she continued to eat rather relentlessly. It might have been a bit disgusting, so she tried to keep her mouth covered with her hand while she chewed.
Wenals is neither surprised nor disgusted. One might almost imagine that he saw this coming. Additional proof of his powers of prediction appears when Evelyn finishes her sandwich. He opens a drawer on his side of the table and pulls out another plate, with another sandwich on it, which he must have hidden there before Evelyn came back inside.

“I thought you might be hungry, it's been a very long time since I've been on any long journeys, but I have been on one or two. Especially sea voyages with poor fishermen, and I am a terrible fisherman. I like living in a city with a good butcher, I don't mind paying someone to get their hands dirty for me. Oh, would you like another sandwich? Yours seems to have disappeared.”