Roleplay

@ElphabaThropp

"I believe in equal exchange. I try my best to be fair." He said, curious at her reaction. He watched her face, sympathetic to her bitterness, even if he did not know why or to what degree.

((Yeah-- she has to make sure he's going to do it, right? And to have some adventures, of course.))

@ElphabaThropp

"Sounds easy enough. Let's both sleep on it, and then discuss it further in the morning." Garrett said with a shrug. So he might have to hunt a few things down for her? That really wasn't anything.

@ElphabaThropp

"The cot is fine. I'm not concerned with my own comfort. Your bed is your bed." Garrett assured her. "I do however need to step out for a minute." He said, moving to find his boots, very slowly so as to get used to his limited range of movement. Now that he was slowly redefining his physical limitations, he was comfortable with moving again. Wanting to move around again.

Garrett only put on his boots, so as to make a show of his intention to stay at least the night. He then gave his shirt a quick pat down. He would need to buy a new one in town. This one was now riddled with dried blood stains and a few holes here and there.

When he went outside he cautiously shut the door behind him. He glanced over her garden, as his boots thudded dully on the pebbles in front of her little cottage. The cottage was in good shape, considering. He wondered if she built it herself. The man put a hand on his wounded side, and held it there, as he thoughtfully stood outside, drinking in the fresh air.

She likely disposed of the griffon head. He wouldn't blame her- it was just a shame it'd been worth a bit of gold.

He stepped out because he needed to think clearly about what he was committing himself to. In the cottage, where it was warm and homey, and where she held the control and looked at him with her big blue eyes and slight pout to her lips, he was almost backed into a corner, when it came to his integrity. Yes, of course I'll help you, he sarcastically thought himself saying, I'll always help a lonely figure in need, because I sure don't see anyone else lining up at your door.

Even so, he had met few witches who lived in complete solitude willfully. She was an interesting figure. And despite how she dressed he had the impression she didn't own that same arrogant sense of sexuality a lot of enchantresses put on as a part of their persona. Most of the women in power he had had the misfortune of meeting desired and commanded to be looked upon, in almost exact ways to men in power. Kings sat on their thrones flaunting their opulence, their wives' eyes sometimes shifting to the lesser dressed but tighter bodies in their congregation. And the kings often knew it. They themselves often vied for the lords and lords' wives and daughters, in a sick game of power exertion both monetary and otherwise.

Courtroom drama was awful: and full of power-hungry vassals both magically inclined or not. He had only served as a head-of-game for a king for three months once, on a boon, since their area was being actively ransacked by wyverns: and it had not been fun. It had only taken three months for a young sorceress to catch his eye. A lovely little bright eyed damsel, with thick curls of auburn frosted against her small neck. She'd been an absolute doll.

But an apprentice on the coterie. She admitted to him she was meant to get close and bind him to his own signet ring. After admitting as much he never saw her again in the courtroom- or anywhere even. He could only assume the worst in that case. And he had been quite fortuitous, being swooned by some enchantress with some sense of moral compass. Bootsmen had to be cautious: because it was doubly a bad idea to fall in love with a normal human than it was to fall in love with a magic user. At least a magic user could protect themselves and even safely accompany a bootsman.

There was something nice about a woman with clean hair, though, Garrett had decided. It was a subtle show of power, and not by materialistic means. It was a humble show of power. Gwendolyn had clean, thick hair, vibrant and nearly blue it was so ink-black. It suited her. He ran his rough hands through his own short hair. He hadn't looked at himself in a mirror in at least months. He wasn't sure what he looked like anymore. Probably faded compared to her and her vibrant youthfulness.

Garrett rubbed his side, pushing away any further biased thoughts he had regarding sorceresses. If Gwendolyn tried something, then he knew what to do. If she didn't, then she was doing him a world of good. He decided to walk to the edge of the forest, and appreciate how relaxing it was to move again, and the feeling of his shoulders pushing and pulling against the fabric of his shirt.

He paused in the forest for a half minute, looked around, then walked back to the cottage. The air around the cottage felt different, which was unsurprising. She likely had a spell on it, probably to keep it clean and safe. When living next to marshland it was common to have mice seeking warm shelter in ones home. Yet her house was immaculately warm and mousefree.

It probably didn't hurt she had a cat too. But those skilled in magic were never exceptionally practical- why would they be? They had no use for practicality. Not like a silly old-fashioned bootsman like him.

Oh god, he was really in for it, wasn't he? He let out a soft pitying laugh to himself. He'd already given his generous word. And well, he decided as he went to open the door and let himself back in, at least she was beautiful.

He had the distinct feeling this wouldn't be a fairy-tale by any means, though.

@ElphabaThropp

Garrett was an early riser. He slept only a few hours, and habitually rose again, to go outside and look for firewood. She had a small axe, a little rusted from disuse, but a few minutes with his stone he used to sharpen his game hook and one of his swords rendered it functional again.

He tied a bit of cloth under his clothes around his midsection, so as to put pressure on the wound while he moved around. It was a good deal more comfortable.

And then he set to chop some neat and small blocks of firewood, thinking he ought to do something with himself at least.

@ElphabaThropp

Garrett loved the misty qualities of most early mornings. The moisture in the air was cool and damp, and the air hardly moved around him. There was a calming stillness he had some sort of satisfaction in breaking when he set a rough block of wood down.

In part this was not only his way of waking himself up, but his way of feeling more comfortable after spending however many days it was in not just an unfamiliar house but with an unfamiliar woman. He expected her to peek out the window at any moment, after he split this log.

He did so.

@ElphabaThropp

Garrett loved the misty qualities of most early mornings. The moisture in the air was cool and damp, and the air hardly moved around him. There was a calming stillness he had some sort of satisfaction in breaking when he set a rough block of wood down.

In part this was not only his way of waking himself up, but his way of feeling more comfortable after spending however many days it was in not just an unfamiliar house but with an unfamiliar woman. He expected her to peek out the window at any moment, after he split this log.

He did so.