Ah, there it was. Softer tone, choked words, and verbal confirmation on Finnian’s silent suspicion on the matter. He figured as such, and he cocked a brow with a silent exhale. Difficult it was to relate to what must be going through Arston’s head, that didn’t mean Finnian couldn’t give him some bare minimum decency. No clue on how to diffuse anxiety of all things himself, even when his own decided to claw up his back under choice circumstance, but…
“You got that right. They’re not going to bite as long as you don’t shove them or insult them to their face. Only then they might.” Cue a brief, amused huff of air through his nose, “Ah, people. I don’t mind the crowds myself but…well, just stick close, but not too close.” They didn’t need any accidental bumps or into the wrong sort of Hunter or merchant loaded with goods. The results wouldn’t be pretty, simply put, knowing how touchy those in more populated areas could be. With a slow wave of his hand, and with his helmet yanked from the crate it was once placed upon, Finnian led the way forward. There may be a bit of a walk to the tavern, but a little conversation could mask the time it took to their destination.
“Hey, like I said, I don’t mind. I think it’s only fair to lend a hand to our kindred sort when they need it, especially since it sounds like you’ve been gone from these parts for a while.” Finnian paused, and a smile crept across his lips, “Ha, now that’s a fitting choice of word for me to use. See, my closer associates refer to me as the Kindred Hunter. Not the most eloquent of things, but it’s stuck.” That did send quite a hypothetical question sailing through his head; how far did his title and word of deeds spread? Ah, it didn’t matter much, but sometimes upon mentioning his title in passing, a couple rare heads would turn. Quite a fulfilling feeling to be recognized if he were to say so himself.
“Anyway, things tend to slip when you’re away from routine, no?” A better conclusion to Finnian’s former point before he changed gears. Come to think of it, this reminded him of something, or rather, someone. A shot in the dark it may be for him to ask this as filler. Still, he wouldn’t get a chance again to talk to another Hunter from the New World anytime soon, would he? Finnian pressed his lips firm after some internal debate. He may as well go for it. “You know, I’d like to ask you more about the actual details into this New World stuff and whatnot, but…I have to get this out there first. You wouldn’t happen to be with the Fifth Fleet, would you?”
“Just a little bit,” he replies. “Routine there is so much simpler, you kinda forget social norms.” That, mounted atop his other mental roadblocks, resulted in a recipe for disaster, one that not many others from the Fifth would’ve thought of. But it was native to their Sapphire Star, and he was the only one fit for the return trip along with this hunt... So of course, it had to be on Arston’s shoulders. “You sorta forget what it’s like to talk to strangers when everyone around you’s familiar in some way.”
At the next question, he nods. “Yeah. Although I don’t know how easy that is to guess, aside from... some strange armor from a monster nobody’s ever seen before. I have no idea how they let me get away with that one.” He flashes a smile, shrugging. “But-- I think that name was brought up at our round table before. In passing, but I’ve definitely heard that term.” It wasn’t all that unlike his own, in a way; the Huntsman had uttered it when the Commander suggested even calling the fresh ‘hero’ what they do. “Either way, if you live up to your title or not, I appreciate you helping me like this.”
“I mean, it’s not like everyone here’s gonna flip around when they hear ‘Sapphire Star’. That’s something exclusive to the New World,” as he spoke, he paused, wondering how much he could give away in regards to the statement. Of course, he couldn’t give away the presence of the oddity in the Everstream, but Zorah--
“Well, being the Star that guided Zorah Magdaros away from the Everstream gets a few peoples’ attentions, but it begins fading away because there’s so few new people coming to the New World in the first place.” Realizing he’d already spent enough time talking, Arston sighs and motions his index and middle fingers rather clumsily on his right hand, pointing in the direction Finnian mentioned. "Given how it’s away from the others on my ship, it might be better to walk and talk there. We’ll part ways when I sidle up for that quest.”
