Clianthe (Or Lake to anyone who didn’t want to be beaten to a pulp) narrowed her eyes as she watched a certain ginger slip out of sight. It was almost insulting that she thought she could sneak off like that. Brushing the falling snow out of her hair, she stands and follows after her.
When she catches up, the ginger girl is leaning against the outer wall of the fortress, trembling with her head pressed against it, face hidden. The alert the girl of her presence, she smashes her shield against the wall, scaring the shit out of the other girl. Lake bangs the shield against the wall a few other times, knocking off the newly-forming ice on the front.
“A bit cold fer someone like ye, ‘in’t it?” She asks as she smashes the shield another time.
“It’s cold all the time around here, Lake.” The ginger mutters darkly, hand moving to wipe away tears. “Why the hell did you follow me? You should have stayed to drink with the others.” Lake grins and turns to face her, reaching into her cube, fishing for something. From the cube, she produces a wine skin and tosses it at the girl.
“Ah, but what fun’d that be? I don’t drink with boys preten’in’ to be men. I already drank a few o’ the losers there un’er the table!” She winks, “Ye may look cute Noamie, but I kno’ you got a hella a tolerance there! Figured ya’d give me a bit mor’n a challenge ‘n what they could offer me. Besides,” she walks closer and puts her back to the wall, sliding to the ground as she searches for a second wine skin in her cube, “Ye happen ta be my favorite drinkin’ buddy.”
Noamie stares at the wine skin in her hands. “There is no cause for a drink tonight, I’m afraid. I would not be a very amusing partner for you.”
“Aaahh, shaddap!” Lake reaches over and yanks the girl to the ground. “And drink! Ye need it- ye can lie to meself, ye can lie to the boss, ye can even lie to them han’some strangers ye like to attract—“ here Noamie looks over at her in shock, starting to blush in embarrassment—“but ye can’t lie to yerself! Ye need a drink- it’s the answer to e’erythin’ bad!”
Noamie raises an eyebrow in suspicion. “Everything you say? I find that hard to believe, my friend.”
“Bah, most e’erythin’- I use it all the time when I’m healin’ folks.” She chuckles. “Ye’d never heard such whinin’. Daevas? Bah, more like a buncha’ immortal babies! A couple o’ scratches won’t hurt em.”
“You are the worst!” She huffs and unscrews the cap to her drink. “No legion is ever going to want you if you keep that up- you’ll be guarding this caravan for the rest of eternity.” Lake just laughs and raises her skin for a toast.
“Aye, an’ I’ll drink ta that! Somebody needs to keep you idiots safe. Not everybody can be a hero an’ go head on with the balaur.” The two sit laughing, taking the occasional drink and making fun of each other when they’d choke on it.
Lake stops and waits for Noamie to raise the skin to her lips again before she speaks again, a smirk forming on her face. “Sooo…how’d ye learn that new dance today? E’rybody thought it was pretty interestin- though I’m sure yer ma woulda been furious fer somebody at yer young age movin’ like that.” As expected, Noamie’s eyes go wide and she spits out the wine, sputtering and coughing. Before she can stammer up an excuse, she plows on, “An’ that boy I saw ye with later! Sure looked rather nice, probably showered ye in tha prettiest lil’ trinkets—ah, I prob’ly shouldn’ call him a boy any longer- ye prob’ly took care of that fer him, didn’t ye—“
“LAKE!!!” In a flash, the wine skin in the ginger’s hands smacks Lake directly in the face, emitting a loud cracking sound. “H-how DARE you even s-suggest that I—“ Growling, Lake brings a hand to her nose, wriggling it around and producing more cracking noises.
“Damn girl, when’d ye git that arm strength?” Shrugging, she picks up Noa’s wine and takes a chug from it. “Seriously, if yer gonna dance like that, then I’m allowed ta’ make fun o’ ye like that!”
“I’m working,” Noamie sneers, “unlike someone I know. If I keep this up, we’ll attract more and more people to our shows. A little bit of…exotic flare to my act never hurt anything.”
“It’d hurt ye,” Lake replies bluntly. “Yer already a lady of tha night, with that unusual hair color of yers and that outfit, ‘n those lil bells all over ye.” She looks her up and down and smirks. “Not ta mention that body.” Noa pouts and crosses her arms over her chest. “Seriously Noa, I’m jealous- I’m about a couple hun’red years older than ye and ye already got a bigger rack ‘n I do.”
“Lake, you also stopped growing hundreds of years ago! And you don’t give a rat’s ass about how big your boobs are,” she sneers in reply. “And, if you’re suggesting anyone would assault me, I’m not concerned about that. That’s what you’re for, isn’t it?” She holds out her hand to her.
“Sorry missy, but I’m a caravan guard, not yer personal lil slave.” She chuckles and takes another swig from Noa’s wine skin. “An if yer gonna be lil miss sassy, then I get ta keep yer wine.”
“But you offered it to me.”
“That was before ye broke my nose, you lil’ brat!”
“You were asking for it!”
“No sweetie, you…oi, where you goin’?” She exclaims as Noamie suddenly stands.
“Wherever a certain chanter I know isn’t!” Noamie huffs, turns on her heels, and stalks off towards the woods. This time, Lake doesn’t follow her friend. She sits silently, takes another swig of her drink and brings a clawful of snow up against her nose.
