Kavdaya Of The Nomads

Kavdaya had her head buried in a bush, her front paws digging delicately at the base of a fir. She’d found a treasure under there. Colic Root, also known as Star Grass. Good for stomach aches, and it had merits of preventing miscarriages. She’d wandered the morning after her encounter with a dark male named Deivad. The Nomadic tendencies were strong, and her paws had begun to itch as soon as she’d finished a breakfast of duck. She hadn’t gone very far, merely a few miles south. The Valley below her stretched for miles, a shallow bowl of grassland with a river winding lazily through it. Elk and bison dotted the valley. Kavdaya had paid them little attention, her eye being caught by various herbs, and soon enough, she’d found herself head and shoulders deep in the bush she was now diggling under. Her thickly fluffy tail waved behind her in contentment. She was doing something the Nomads often did; making caches of herbs in random places, so that if she happened to be in the area near a cache and needed them, they wouldn’t be far away. Perhaps once she joined a pack, she would go about and gather from those caches in times of need to add to her stockpile in her new home. But for now, she would be making small stockpiles of the basics and a few special herbs that she might run across. Her claws exposed the rhizome, or false root, and she gently dug around it, exposing the root more fully, tail waving a bit harder from satisfaction. Finally, it came loose, and she snatched it gently in her jaws amethyst spangled sapphire gaze twinkling with good humor. She began to pull free from the bush, popping free and turning to drop her find on the pile that was accumulating. Thus far, her trip was becoming quite fruitful. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Andréas had been frequenting the South for much of his time in Alacritis, but his ever wandering soul had beckoned him to the West on this particular day. It was remarkably lucky that it had, because it wasn't every day that the spaniard got to see a woman precariously perched with her head... in a bush. She seemed to be digging, and as he neared her (quietly, of course) he couldn't help but stifle a chuckle. It appeared she had found what she was looking for, and he noted with some surprise that it was some sort of root she had unearthed. He watched with mild interest as she turned and let it fall from her teeth onto a pile he could only assume she was collecting. "Hola!" he offered with a genuine smile, knowing that unless she was blind there was no way on earth she would miss seeing the large man standing ten yards behind her. What are you doing with your head in a bush, señorita?" His tail wavered behind him idly as the spaniard looked her over - a cheeky grin on his features. She was cloaked in the purest of white, and stood considerably shorter than he. In fact, even though he was only a decent sized fellow, he dwarfed the girl by six inches or so. His head tilted to the side, offering her a lopsided grin as he waited a response. "Talk"

Kavdaya Of The Nomads

A thickly accented male voice greeted her from behind, and she turned more fully to face the euro male. Despite his height advantage, she showed no fear, instead greeting him with a smile, a smudge of dirt on her nose going unnoticed; when you were a healer, dirt was a part of the whole craft. She took in his form. He seemed to be around her age, and had ‘trouble’ written all over him. Not the kind where she felt she would be forced to defend herself, but the good sort that said he might enjoy getting into mischief. Her brow points lifted, causing the Nomad mark between them to jerk upward as he asked her why she’d had her head in a bush. Amethyst flecked sapphires twinkled with good humor. “Some of the best spoils a healer can find are often hidden within bushes, stranger. This root is a good one.” Her own accented voice, Irish where his was clearly one of Spanish, held happy exuberance for her craft. Talking about healing; her favorite subject. She looked him over again. “I’m finding a lot of good herbs in this land. This is the second cache in the making, and I’ve only been on the continent for four days. I’m Kavdaya, of the Nomads, by the way. Pleasure to meet you, sir...” She trailed off on a questioning tone, one brow point lifting in question at the male, inviting him to continue the introductions, Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

He noticed the mark as soon as her brows arched and furrowed it, piquing his curiosity. He had no such mark to bear with pride, but he wasn't jealous that she did - merely curious as to how she'd gotten it. He knew some wolves were born with markings like this, and others were painted or dyed. Which category she fell into, he hadn't a clue. Her answer came while he was musing such things, and he noted that she wasn't worried in the slightest by his presence. He liked that, for he was certainly no threat unless first threatened. Her voice was as thickly accented as his, though it was lighter - with more of a lilting Irish note. His previously cockeyed head tilted back to a normal angle as she explained she was a healer looking for treasures - including the root she'd unearthed before his eyes. "Four days, eh? I've got you beat, Señorita, I've only been here three." His eyebrows wiggled with mischief as he offered her a nod when she gave her name. Kavdaya of the Nomads. "Andréas Diego Rosales, the Spaniard." At least, he liked to refer to himself as such. His and neck bent low shortly after introducing himself, providing her with a comical sort of bow whilst wearing a cheshire grin upon his face. Seafoam eyes twinkled with delight at the prospect of meeting a woman in this new land. Already he liked it more than his home. "El placer es mio." "Talk"