Peek: Distractions and Battles

Lately, Folarn has been feeling a little distracted.  With all that's going on right now, she might be forgiven for it, but she's not distracted by what she might usually be.

The new armor being produced is excellent, and the smiths are really coming into their own with the production.  And thanks to the ingots of the ratkin, the smiths are able to only stop because of fatigue, rather than a lack of material.  That's not what's distracting her, though.  While she appreciates the armor and new weapon, it's somethign else that keeps wandering into her thoughts.

It's not training, either.  Vernew has been throwing herself hard into mastering the new style of spear, and then teaching the intricacies to the other hunters.  Likewise, Folarn is drilling with the other tarantulas to provide a solid foundation to the army.  Some of the drills are in lines, others as small groups, and others still as mixed groups with the hunters and even ratkin as support with their strange bows.

Yet even all the intricacies of fighting as a unit are not enough to keep her mind focused.

Even the thought of an evil dungeon, a Fallen Sanctuary as the High Priestess puts it, isn't enough to capture her attention.  She can focus for a while on the planning, coming up with ways to not only defend her enclave and the Weaver, but the town of Fourdock, but still thoughts drift in and make her lose her focus.

She'd like to tell herself she doesn't have time for it, but that doesn't stop her heart from speaking its mind, drawing her thoughts to Yamik, the lobster wrangler.

Though he's of the hunter caste, Folarn tends to think of him as a weaver, probably because of the long legs.  They make him seem larger than he actually is, even if his actual body is a little smaller than Vernew's.  While Vernew is a hunter through and through, Yamik is much more of a gentler soul, well suited to caring for the cave lobsters.

Yet he also knows his duty, and harvests the ones that are ready, while ensuring the healthiest have a part in creating the new generation.  She only needs to look at his carapace to see he has no compunctions against eating the lobsters.  He clearly has a taste for them, as his pale yellow coloring has been subtly shifting more towards blue thanks to the color of the cooked shells.

She shakes her head to clear it, not wanting to get even more distracted by imagining more of his carapace than is proper.  She scowls at the pot of simmering water as she stands in her kitchen, cave lobster in hand.  This has gone on long enough.  She returns the lobster to the live well in her pantry, and prepares to head out.

Her instinct is to take her armor and trident, maybe even the large stone axe she has hung on the wall, but she fights it down.  This is not a problem to be pummeled into submission.  No... it's like Vernew has said: dress properly for each hunt.  She looks in her closet and warily eyes the sundress that Norloke gave her over a week ago, wondering if the seamstress knew something like this may be coming.  She's no less a mistress of her domain than Forlan is in military matters, or Vernew in hunting.

Grumbling, she dons the dress, hoping she doesn't look as awkward as she feels in it, and makes for the lobster ponds.  She keeps herself focused on moving, ignoring the curious looks she gathers as she goes.  Why does she feel like she's marching off to battle, instead of just walking through the enclave?

She does her best to crush her nerves, and finds they drift away when she spots her target, talking and joking with the other wranglers.  She simply watches for a few moments, a small smile settling on her face, before she realizes the group has noticed her.

She strangles the urge to retreat, and after taking a calming breath, she strides forward.  Her plan shatters in the face of enemy action, however, as Yamik speaks first.

"Hello Folarn.  That's a very nice dress."

Her will has no hope against the forces of the blush the compliment produces, and she finds herself responding awkwardly.  "Uh... thank you, Yamik."

He smiles and stands a bit taller, though even if he drew himself up fully, he'd still have to look up to meet her eyes.  "Did you come to get a fresh lobster?"

She almost nods, but resists the urge to tactically retreat already.  She slowly shakes her head, trying to organize her thoughts, but the unruly things have fully broken ranks and are milling in disarray.

"Would you like to share a meal, Yamik?" she asks, and almost flees at her own idiocy.  Before she can flog her scrambling and routed thoughts for their incompetence, Yamik responds.

"That sounds wonderful, Folarn."

She stares at him for a few moments, before coughing and nodding.  "Would now be appropriate for you?"

He nods and settles back a bit on his legs, all the better to walk around, rather than standing awkwardly-tall to talk.  "Yes, though could we stop by the market?  If we're going to share, I'd like to get something."

Folarn nods and takes a step back, letting him move beside her, and the two make their way to the market.  The rush of initial victory helps buoy her, as well as Yamik's simple presence, but she can't let herself get too distracted.  The initial exchange may have gone well, but the battle is hardly even joined, let alone the war.