<img style="avatar" src="http://i.imgur.com/D01nHYr.png" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]Bajazet's features didn't seem capable of changing, simply painted on her face in stoic display. There was scar tissue and damage to the veneer, but in the jumble of youthful flesh, one could see she had little issue keeping her opinions to herself. A blank stare often did enough to entice violence, but far less often than one containing malice might. <font color="e6cd19]"Do you wish I leave you then?"[/font] While waiting for his answer, bare feet continued to keep tabs on the messages being scattered throughout the area, all of which pertaining to who he may have been, and what it was he was doing this far out. They asked if he was alone, if he was looking to trade, and inevitably, if he looked contagious. Bajazet didn't known the answer to the latter, but her walking stick struck the sands with an indecisive quip about doubting as much.
Slowly she backed from his immediate reach and motioned with her head towards the distance, where maybe through the twilight bath of midnight blue, he could see the outlines of her caravan. <font color="e6cd19]"You may come, but walk slow. No aggression."[/font] Explaining nothing more, Bajazet led them towards the other scouts who kept their distance while studying his cloaked figure. One clicked angrily, and in turn, she clicked back with something of a hiss. It left the male scout scowling, but he didn't keep them from closing in on the now parked collection of merchants. Their arrival was met by the old man who drove the caravan, and he seemed flustered at what Bajazet offered him concerning what had happened.
"Why'd ya bring him here then?! If he ain't got nothing to trade, what am I suppose ta do with him?" The old man was far more animated than Bajazet, his hands flailing when he spoke, fast and wild in their motions. "An' what if he infects us? What abou' that much?"
<font color="e6cd19]
"He is not contagious."[/font] Bajazet found herself reassuring the old man just a few yards from where Cauldo had been told to wait, digging her stick in the dirt while she spoke. <font color="e6cd19]"I will keep him at a distance for now. You will see." [/font]Glancing back to the fully covered stranger, she added. <font color="e6cd19]"Not contagious."[/font]
Unconvinced, the elder huffed and pointed to the back of the camp where the animals slept. "Then ya stay that way until we know for sure. Gotta be outta yer goddamn mind if you think I'm gonna let him near the wares!"
<font color="e6cd19]"Fine, fine."[/font] Bajazet dismissed his words. <font color="e6cd19]"At a distance."[/font]
"Now go take him outta my sight! Goddamn bleeding hearts always pickin' up strays! No better than dogs-"
She ignored the rest of the rant in favor of trailing to her new acquaintance, who received a solemn shrug. <font color="e6cd19]"You may come."[/font] With the words came more traveling, off to where they had been directed, which was among settled oxen and antsy horses. Bajazet brought two bundles with her so they had bedrolls to use, and she set one at his feet before scooping together supplies to start their own fire for the night. When the dark came, she would need it to keep a watch on their surroundings. Even when the rest of the camp was sleeping, the scouts took turns ensuring no one was able to run them down in the dead of night.
When the fire crackled and ate at driftwood and dried tumbleweed, Bajazet finally sat at it's edges and motioned he was free to do the same. Something skinned had been propped over the campfire to burn, and Bajazet fixated on it's condition for a time before speaking again, obviously used to silence in her camp.
<font color="e6cd19]
"Do you have a name?"[/font]
BDRP Admin. Writer. Villain. Personal Blog.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
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