The price of a fire…

Players: Rajiv, Paxerin
Summary: Holdbred Pax finds that sharing traveler Rajiv’s fire has a price – and that she should beware groups of ravenous-looking riders!
Time: Day 13 of month 6 of Turn 198 in the 4th Interval, and it was really more like 2PM instead of the game-time 12AM – honest!

Barn

Though of solid construction, this rectangular barn is obviously unfinished, lacking even a hayloft. Not a lick of paint has been applied to it, and the floor is packed dirt. Currently, no stalls have been constructed and the interior is mostly empty; farming and beastherding tools are arranged neatly on one side, which construction tools are in more disarray on the other.

The season is early winter; it is around midnight and no stars are visible. Today's weather is cold, the temperature close to the freezing point; breath is visible and the air is nippy. Strong winds blow through the air. The sky is completely overcast by thick clouds.

Rajiv - 20 Turns, 1 months, and 20 days
Rajiv has straight dark brown hair textured with sun-bleached streaks that falls to his shoulders though is often tied back with a leather thong. His brooding dark brown eyes peer over an aquiline nose and a dark fuzz lines his cut jaw. He is around 6 feet tall with a wiry frame that is tanned brown and often shiny with sweat. He wears a brown leather jacket, though it's scuffed and scratched as though quite worn and old. Beneath his jacket is a green and brown plaid woven shirt, sleeveless, and around his neck is a long chain with a silver star charm at the end. His pants are pin-striped, two shades of grey, though at one point they may have been black. The pants are faded at the knees and backside, worn thinner there. He wears a gold band on his right hand, first finger.

A sweet smell of smoke and incense permeates a few feet from Rajiv.

Paxerin - 19 Turns, 1 months, and 21 days

Generous freckles inexorably define this country girl, heavily peppering her wide down-turned nose and spreading out to round cheeks. Sun has brightened the otherwise dirty blonde locks that frame Paxerin's rectangular face, the soft waves ending somewhere between her femininely pointed chin and sloping shoulders. Beneath a broad forehead her sparse brows curve gently over narrow hazel eyes, and her thin-lipped mouth is most attractive when set in the even-toothed smile that she so often wears. Her frame of five foot seven is slight and spare with a small bust and narrow hips.

Paxerin's wardrobe tends to be simple and functional, typically colored in muted blues and earth tones. Trousers are almost always favored over skirts or dresses, and often are made of coarse linen. Though she does have one proper belt, she's just as likely to tie off a thin strip of scrap leather to hold up her pants. Summer's short cotton tunics are covered with slouchy cable knit sweaters for colder weather. Besides those basics, her favorite wardrobe pieces are a chocolate leather duster and a black felt wide-brimmed hat. And boots - her feet are hardly ever seen outside a pair of sturdy leather boots of some sort.

Wind blasts in from outside as Paxerin enters through the rear barn entrance, sweeping her short locks into a jumble before her face. The girl quickly strides inside, turning her shoulder to shove the door closed behind her. Her shoulders visibly rise up and back down as she takes a deep breath, reaching up to push her windblown hair from out of her eyes. Beginning to unwind her scarf, the apprentice turns and walks further into the barn, a smile on her face as she glances around at those present.

The travellers, amidst their daily activities, collectively look up towards Paxerin as she lets in the cold air. A fire plays in a pit of dirt near the center of the barn-- far away from the walls-- and three of the teenaged travellers stand next to it, chattering along. Four or five children frolic around-- playing tag--watched by groups sitting in circles of chairs having their own conversations. Near the back a curtain blocks off an area of cots. The entire barn smells faintly of spice-- as well as the people. Rajiv stands as well by the fire, alone for the moment, rubbing his hands together.

Paxerin heads in a fairly straight line towards the blaze, pausing to grin down as a pair of tag-playing children dart past her. By the time she reaches the blaze her scarf lies open, the cream-colored ends dangling down her torso and showing decided signs of being chewed on by something with green slobber. Stopping a few feet from Rajiv, she stretches out her cold-chapped fingers towards the fire. “Mind if I steal some of your heat?” she asks with a smile, tilting her head to slant a sideways glance at the traveler.

"Only if you give something back in return," Rajiv remarks, raising an eyebrow at Paxerin while the rest of the travelling community forgets about the possible excitement of the herder apprentice to continue routine chatting. He spares a glance to her slobbered-on scarf, nonchalantly rubbing his hands together again. "What brings you here?"

Paxerin’s eyebrows loft, her mouth quirking up at a corner. She seems to be unflustered by the barn-dwelling community’s attention or lack there of, instead focusing on Rajiv. “Just now?” She answers the second query first, raising a shoulder in a half shrug. “I just came in from the pens clipping goat hooves, so my hands are all sore and freezing.” She flexes the scuffed fingers demonstratively. “I thought I’d warm some life back into them. Although I didn’t realize I’d have to barter for it… What sort of something do you mean? I might not be able to pay...” her voice lilts half playful and half concerned.

"Herder?" Rajiv appears to be taking a wild guess, lowering his hands from in front of the flame to cross them. "Well, if you can't pay, you can at least make a trade. Where are you from? What's your name? My name is Rajiv, and I'm part of the travelling group-- obviously. How long have you been at Connell? I haven't seen you around." One of the children, about four, stops by Pax and tilts her head to the side, red curls dangling. She's being nosy.

“Yes – just recently from Beastcraft Hall up north,” Paxerin confirms. Her gaze drifts to the red headed girl and she smiles warmly and begins digging in a pocket. “I’m Paxerin – I’ve just been here a little over a sevenday, so I’m still just finding my way around.” Looking back to Rajiv, she produces a chipped off tip of dragon claw about a finger length long. “I haven’t really been here long enough to have anything much of value. Maybe this would suffice?” She holds the vaguely opalescent claw tip out on her palm towards Rajiv. “I found it in the pen this afternoon.”

Rajiv looks immediately intrigued by the claw, plucking it from Pax's hands with a delicacy, as if he might shatter it. "Quite a nice reward for working out there." He fingers the claw a few moments more, then eyes the broad end of it. "Holdbred?" Almost a random question, though the claw is clamped more tightly in his hand after he asks.

Paxerin draws her hand back rather quickly as the traveler takes the claw, rubbing her palms together briefly before presenting them once more towards the fire. Maybe her hands are really that cold – or maybe she’s just uncomfortable with the brush of Rajiv’s fingers. She doesn’t comment on the claw finding, though perhaps a brief tip of her shoulder serves as some sort of response. “Yes, I’m from Keroon Hold originally, although my mother was a Beastcrafter as well.” There is a barely perceptible uncertainty as she stares into the flames. “And you? Have you… traveled all your life?”

"No, actually," Rajiv admits, crossing his arms again though the claw is still in one. "I lived on a farmhold near Southern Boll until I moved to Ista, and joined up." He doesn't say just how long ago that was, simply watching Paxerin with more interest even as she seems to pick up a bit of nervousness. "And we are certainly not travelling right now, though once we get a boat and on our feet again, I'm sure the mood will take the fortune teller and we'll be off." As if he had strayed from his original topic, he returns to the subject of holds-- or lack thereof. "Never stayed in a Weyr, I take it? Nor lived with any weyrfolk. And as an apprentice, I suppose you have rules..."

“Apprentices do have rules,” Paxerin agrees readily, nodding her head. “Studying and classes certainly don’t mix well with the sort of life that goes on at a Weyr, after all,” she elaborates, a sort of wrinkle-nosed look of distaste flickering across her features. Her hands draw back from the fire and she begins to idly roll them up into the slobbered ends of her scarf as she gazes curiously back at Rajiv. “I suppose you can’t travel /all/ the time… although surely both South Boll and Ista would have more favorable weather right now!” Her voice rattles on in amicable chatter.

Rajiv simply smiles, a bland smile full of ambiguity. "My advice, then, is-- if you notice a group of riders collecting, looking particularly ravenous, go somewhere else. It would probably be the best thing for you." He uncrosses his arms, flopping them to his sides in a more relaxed position. "And I go where ever the old lady decides. She has a knack for finding spots for us. Connell Settlement is a fascinating place, anyway." He raises up the claw, glances at it for a moment, and then hands it to the redhaired girl-- who is now standing beside him. The girl takes the claw and immediately dashes to show her friends. "It was nice meeting you Paxerin, I hope we see each other again." With this and a nod, he heads towards the cot area.

Paxerin’s eyes widen slightly at his advice, chin nodding ever so slightly. “Alright – thank you,” she stutters in a bit of an embarrassed fluster. Hazel eyes watch as he hands the claw over to the young girl, and she’s back to grinning as she waves vaguely at the young man’s back. “A pleasure to meet you, Rajiv – I’ll see you around.” And with that, Paxerin herself turns away from the fire and heads in the general direction of the beast crafter’s tool storage area.