Skill : 「 None */5 」

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He was listening as well as he could, but Alaric’s focus was splintered as he took notice of the plants she was gathering up. Her voice would string through his ears and his mind would bounce between the story she shared with him and the nagging curiosity from the depths of himself. An herbalist, it seemed. The Crane lightly clenched his jaw, but not enough to be obvious to the other. Healers, herbalists, medics, whatever the fuck they wanted to call themselves—Alaric had a spotty relationship with them in the past. Keres was one, Mauve, Barbosa, Lizbeth… The women he once pined for, the ones that were like fucking drugs to him.

Mmmm, was the reply Ric gave as he finally digested what she’d said. An entire family was taken from another place and thrown here and some-fucking-how their whole ass home came with them. The fuck? He didn’t get anything like that. Ric had jack shit with him as he washed up on the shores of Mythris. At least ya had family and the place ya lived. The rest of us weren’t so lucky, at least, he assumed he was part of the majority.

Alaric’s shoulders rolled in a nonchalant shrug, no point in being pissy about something that happened so long ago. Ya also can’t be sure that your old world would’a been any better, of course he had no clue what kind of tragedies she faced, but she also couldn’t be sure the other world would have been any more forgiving. Nothing was the same, she’d said, but there was no guaranteeing it would have stayed the same elsewhere.

Phia… the man’s lips curled in a grin, eyes bright with mischief as he felt the way her name dabbed on his tongue. Alaric’s head angled downward to watch her, still caught on the whole herb thing. His blood pulsed hotly, as if merely assuming she held a profession similar to his last obsessions’ was enough to rile him. Been meaning to ask, you some kinda medic? Noticed all the herbs you were gatherin’ up, a single brow rose with his question.