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[For this, she takes notes in more detail. They may be of little use to her once she leaves this world and rejoins her own, but likewise then, knowing them here will do little harm but to her own preoccupations and musings, and those are hers to put to use as she sees fit.

So. Hydaelyn and Her reflections.

Y'shtola has the very distinct sense that here is something about which he tells much so that he might hide even more. She presses her lips together, and the pen leaves an ink spot or two where she lingers on a thought, but...no. Not yet, at least.]

What do goblins want with the broken remains of Sharlayan? [The colony. Her home.]

[Thancred smirks a bit at the way she says it. He was told she'd been less than thrilled to find them the first time, and seeing her expression now he can well imagine it.]

Well, the Illuminati as always are interested in salvaging things to further their knowledge - but the rest of them are mostly interested in rebuilding what they can and creating a free egalitarian state. A true union of Gobbie and Uplander pooling their braincases and so on. I am told the adventurers who have settled there have had great success in cultivating many of the seeds left behind in the Arboretum. Well... the ones not eaten by the morbols, anyroad.

[He shrugs.]

It has been a few moons since last I visited, but last I saw they had reversed a considerable amount of damage wrought by the Calamity already.

[Rather than express disapproval for the pooling of braincases, Y'shtola takes another bite. If nothing else, it shall serve to politeness her mouth shut until she has a handle on it herself. ...It does nothing to stop the slight fitful breeze, though.

The cultivation of seeds and the resettling of the area ought to be good for it, provided the Calamity did not leave it too unstable in places no one can quite see. Y'shtola's frown and furrowed brow thus take on a new task.]

I am, of course, heartened to hear the best of Nanamo, and that Raubahn thrives despite...the misfortunes that befall him.

[the Warrior of Light, Tataru and Alphinaud made their way to Ishgard. She draws a deliberate breath and pushes that to the back again. The hole in his woven web of a story is gaping, fair waving its tatters in the wind, and the prey excised from it too precious to question, here and now whilst plucking the web for other causes, other costs.]

What can you tell me of your reunion with...them? Us?

[Thancred stalls a moment by having another drink.]

Mm, well I did not actually reunite with any of you for several moons... I must confess I was rather lost, and in the process of seeking civilization I happened across a beast tribe - which calls itself the Gnath - and stayed among a friendlier group of ... outcasts of a sort, who call themselves the Vath, for a time. The Gnath have a habit of summoning their primal deity Ravana regularly, and the Vath told me of certain familiar-sounding individuals who'd been through earlier to slay Ravana at least once or twice. I therefore remained in the area until at last I encountered you, Alphinaud, our warrior friend and Krile Baldesion - who had since awoken from her torpor.

[He pauses for a sip, thoughtful. Though he endeavors to maintain a relatively neutral demeanor, he cannot hide his hesitation before he continues.]

You had rejoined them some time prior, after the tunnel was partially excavated, and - I am told - Urianger found your wand, with which he was able to deduce the spell you had cast and whither you had gone.

[The hesitation again as he studies her a moment more.]

Apparently while the Flow had deposited me more or less in tact on the mountainside, you were still caught up in the Lifestream, in its eddies and currents in the Twelveswood. They enlisted the aid of the Seedseers and through them the Elementals to find and retrieve you.

[All of that, she absorbs in silence. Particularly the end, at which she sits straighter until he is through speaking, only to drop some of the stiff posture - if one did not know her one might think her slumping.

Y'shtola touches the wine glass before here where bowl meets stem, with two fingers. That Thancred emerges from the Lifestream with hardly a change - as he assures, and so she can but presume the injury to his face came about later, and 'twould not surprise her for moons spent in the Dravanian mountains with little company and less protection, and primal-minded beastmen about - quells her worries significantly. She knew, from the way Lyse and Alisaie spoke of him, that the sight of him was no surprise in their present...and yet.

But her lips press together tightly, and she glances down at her notes, then some of the crumbs upon the plate, then her fingers, and finally looks Thancred in the eye again. She sighs, but it is gentle and slow enough to be mistaken for a simple exhale.]

'Twas ever a risk. [That she would go forcibly along with him. That she would not emerge even if she did go. ...That he would face a similar fate.] The Twelveswood is not so terrible a harbor for my soon to be drifting soul. And what singular fortune that they are able thereafter to come to my rescue, such as it is.

[Though it has been some weeks now, the events of that night are as heavy on her mind as if they belong to 'yesterday', and none have been able to mitigate that worry; Thancred, though nearly as removed from it as the others, has gone far down the path of undoing those knots.

Likewise does she think she is, perhaps, attributing catastrophe to places where it is not; 'tisn't like her to let her mind run wild so. Y'shtola takes a sip of the wine and puts on a faint, wry smile.]

Pray accept my every apology for the disruption and further danger to your person, Thancred.

[Thancred gives her a sharp look at her word choice, but her wry smile puts to rest he idea that she has already deduced the further change in his aether, and he pauses with his glass halfway to his mouth.]

Y'shtola... [Shaking his head, he sets the glass down again.] Truly, no apologies are necessary; indeed I should be repeating my thanks instead. Had you not taken that risk, the both of us would instead be rather fetching flatcakes 'neath the rubble. Besides, are not disruption and danger our frequent companions in our adventures?

[Shrugging, Thancred picks up his drink once more.] In any case, I have not lost anything I cannot live without. [And then he finishes off the cup.]

Edited (homophones) 2017-09-02 23:44 (UTC)

[And the sharp look carries its own layers of intrigue. Came she too close to a conversational precipice?

The calm sincerity in his words belies the fierce expression, though, and she finds herself releasing her curiosity until a later time.]

More frequent than the sum of all the others, if memory serves. Courtesy suggests I ought to allow you to question me in equal measure for the interrogation to which I have just subjected you, but I have little and less to share that you do not know already. I am like to pursue further some of what you have shared on the surface, though perhaps I ought not warn you, but at the least you deserve a few moments' respite.

[While she decides whether to ask anything else, and what the focus of the inevitable questions should be.]

[He chuckles a little at that and signals the waiter for another drink. It may be on Y'shtola's dime now, but he's certain he'll pay her back with paying for a meal in the future or in some other way. They've known each other too long to keep careful tit for tat in that regard.]

Thank you, I think. Fair certain am I that I will have questions for you soon enough, but they're more apt to be about this world and your experiences therein than aught else, and I'm not yet familiar enough to know quite what to ask.

Then you may content yourself in knowing that my "experiences" are quite like the sort of ordinary life, such as it is, rarely brushing the daily business of a Scion of the Seventh Dawn. Though the gods of this...this world and her people are very present and prone to swift changes in mood...'tis peaceful. One does not rise in the morning absent the certainty she shall return to that same bed at dusk.

[Which, while not Y'shtola's primary concern most mornings, does come up now and again for all if them, not least because they are called or ordered away upon short notice and with haste. 'Tis part and parcel of the job, as some might say.]

Were the air of amicability not so genuine, and emotions so readily felt or seen such that intentions are less apt to remain hidden, I should wonder at the authenticity of that peace.

[He nods, indeed content with that knowledge.]

Yes, the open display of emotions whether one wishes or no does lend a certain... forthrightness to the place.

[One he's not yet quite sure how to feel about, particularly given his own predilection for obfuscating his true feelings on things. He isn't sure whether their respective control over their emotions will prove a boon or a hinderance here. But that the place is peaceful affords them time to learn, he supposes.]

Well, I cannot say a short break would be unwelcome.

[Except once he's learned all that he can about this place, he'll be at loose ends for what to fill his time with.]

Would you care for some more substantial fare? [Since their plate of small portions is nearly empty and it has doubtless been an extremely long day for him.] Most establishments in the city are sympathetic to the plight of newcomers, especially in matters of food and shelter.

[While he ponders the menu, Y'shtola can scan through all of her notes again, trying not to think of some few particularly heartrending ones.]

[He eyes the menu a moment.]

That is good to hear, and talking is hungry work. Is there aught you can recommend of the local cuisine?

[Y'shtola generally has good taste - aside from fish which they must agree to disagree about - and as she's been here a month that is surely enough time to start to get a sense of what's good and what's not in the place.]

They have a startling variety of seafood dishes, for an island with no water containing it.

[Y'shtola grins, this time. She was not lonely yesterday, or the weeks before, but there are several things to be said about the easy back-and-forth between old friends.]

I've partaken of a singularly comforting stew here in the past. Perhaps it shall catch your fancy.

[So of course the first thing she suggests is seafood - to which Thancred can only sigh and shake his head. Y'shtola please. The stew, however, sounds excellent.]

A good stew is always worth sampling. I will have that, then, and leave the judgement of the seafood to you. Or skyfood, if the fish are plucked from the air in the absence of seas.

[Though not particularly hungry, Y'shtola orders more of one particular item from their shared plate because she knows she ought to eat more than she has today; unless Thancred probes for information, she'll not say much until their new food orders arrive.]

I have been staying at the welcome center, but if our other friends and you agree, we may be able to share a larger residence. Of course, I'd not push such a decision too quickly onto anyone.

[Thancred contents himself with asking a few idle questions about the island's cuisine while the wait, and when it arrives, he remarks that it does indeed smell delectable. Only when she turns the conversation to living situations does he turn a trifle more serious again, nodding as he shifts a vegetable or two within the broth with his spoon.]

A shared house - if affordable - would certainly be convenient.

[They'd all find ways to make due without, of course, but there is a strong appeal to her proposal.]

'Twould be a sight better than four itinerants hoping to pass one another for breakfast.

[Not to mention the...emotional security, so to speak, of having one another nearby. Of knowing where each was likely to be at the end of a day, and thus when to alert the rest if someone did not return. If there was trouble. It is as easy for them to "go home" as it was to appear.]

A more consistent effort toward affordability would be necessary, but not without our reach, I should think.

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do they even have pancakes i have no idea

they do!

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