Xenofos — On The Break
????, Sea Season
Late Sea season – Between the Lunar villa and Boldhome. [[[s02:session-39|Session 39]]]
After taking care of horses and seeking firewood for cooking Xenofos cautiously approaches Berra.
Berra is hanging around her cousin, although she raises a hand in greeting when Xenofos makes that approach. “Hey.”
“Hi.” scribe stops close by. “I don’t think we have been properly introduced. Xenofos of Saiciae, sworn man of Varanis who is a thane of Blue Tree, but not of the clan myself.”
Danaril just nods in response.
“This is my cousin, Danaril. Danaril, Xenofos is a friend of mine. He’s from Esrolia.” Berra manages the politeness without apparent sign of distress.
“Pleasure to meet you.” Scribe answers turning a piece of firewood around in his hands.
Berra gives Danaril a moment in case he is answering, but her look at Xenofos indicates she has something to say.
Danaril remains silent.
“So. Lord Xenofos.” Berra switches to Heortling now, from Tradetalk.
“Berra of the Sword?” he replies.
“I got an apology to make. When Rajar gets ahead of me, I expect it, and plan around it. I shouldn’t be angry at you for doing the same. I’m sorry.” She says it plainly, with a bow at the end.
Xenofos blinks rapidly. “I… I did not expect that, lady. Apology accepted. And I try…”
“Yeah. It’s a thing to avoid if you can, but it’s not a thing I should be angry about.” She looks to Danaril. “Xenofos is better on a horse than I am.”
Xenofos bows at the acknowledgement.
“When you have time, I’d have a word.” he looks at Danaril in a way he may think is subtle “But that can wait.”
Berra gives her cousin a glance, and then steps away from him. “Be back in under a reed-wick.” About fifteen minutes. Five, if it burns fast.
Xenofos nods to Danaril who barely notes the gesture.
Berra walks alongside Xenofos, politely curious.
“How is he?” scribe asks quietly.
“About as far from good as you can get.” Berra walks confidently, but her face gives away pain. Her cousin would not be able to see the expression, of course.
“I am sorry to hear that” Xenofos answers quietly.
“Yeah, well. It’s all pretty shit, but the White Ladies might able able to help and at least we can get him back one more time.”
“He has been away for a very long time I understood?” scribe says.
“As far as I can tell, there’s a thing called a camp but not the sort where you’re travelling and you stop for the night. A permanent thing. He was in one of those. I don’t even know if he’s still Elmal’s. He doesn’t really talk unless you ask him a thing, and then he just says the least he can. It’s like pushing soup out of a bowl with a fork.”
Xenofos nods. “It can be painful to talk… I know that even if I do not know what he has been through.”
Berra looks up at Xenofos, shocked for a moment and then looks away. “Yeah. I think he’s been holding himself together for a long time. There’s nothing left for the outside any more.” She blinks a few times, rapidly.
“Berra, I am sorry to see you in pain. If there is a way I can help, tell me. Please.”
Berra looks back at her cousin, and then up at Xenofos, anguished. “I don’t know,” she says in a tiny voice.
He turns toward her and takes her hand. “Just remember you are not alone. I will help in this if you allow it.”
His hand catches hers, and she snatches it away, stepping back.
He does not follow, but bows lightly.
Berra’s stare is hard to make out, because it is only there for a moment – she turns abruptly back towards her cousin, and leaves Xenofos behind.
Xenofos gaze follows the Humakti as he rubs his brow.
She does not turn back. Her body language says anger, then confidence. Her expression, only her cousin would see.