Journey Day 20 PM Fireside Jyslin

The steady buzz of nocturnal swamp life is ever present around the campsite, dulling the sharpness of hearing and casting an auditory haze over the darkness. It's noisy at times but stable, and quite a change in timbre and volume from the woods and plains that have served as the group's campsite for tendays now.

Feeling the taste of the timing spell leave his mouth, the green-haired mage on watch pokes at the weak embers of their former cooking fire with his bardiche and casts his eyes penetratingly across the darkness. Still nothing of note. Standing up with the help of his polearm, Syval grunts quietly as his stiff legs protest then lifts a hand to stiffle a heavy yawn. His hand stays up long enough to renew his simplest arcana and once the glittering green glow settles over him, the young man spits a ball of chewed up tree resin into his waiting palm.

In a practiced and half-attentive way, he rolls the wad between his hands while wispy arcane tendrils sweep over its teeth-marked surfaces sucking away saliva. In only a few seconds the "wizard gum" is back to a neat, round, dry, and unmarred shape - apparently fresh and ready for a new use. One last small touch of flavoring magic primes the treat for its purpose, then Syval glances skywards, noting the position of the moon.

Soft footsteps (for his size) approach the camp's only double-tent and the young wizard parts its flap with the edge of his bardiche to peek inside, then floats the gumball slowly, slowly through the air until it hovers over a certain blonde priestess. Then, it drops.

<OOC> Syval remembered his gumball this time. <OOC> Syval says, "Sorry for the delay. I sniped myself thinking about my spell study progress ahead of the scene since that could have affected my set. Activity for another downtime." <OOC> Syval will for the record not be aiming for the face, assuming he finds Jyslin harmlessly napping. He'll go for somewhere safe, like the butt. At contact Jyslin rolls over from her side onto her back, away from the wealth of Andie's hair. Her breathing brings the scent of the flavored gum to her nostrils, and Jyslin gives a soft protestful moan. Then she lifts herself up with her arms extended behind her, only managing to keep the thin blanket over her body by dint of not having yet raised fully upright where gravity would demand it fall further.

Jyslin's green eyes blink open, a mystical silvery cast to the otherwise warm amber backlight reflecting from within their depths. The priestess yawns and then nods towards the mage standing at the flap to the tent. She turns to check on Andie with eyes open, and upon Neosodos. Then she lays back down, ducking beneath the blanket, which ripples and wiggles all about for a bit before the priestess then emerges, pushing the blanket aside and standing hunched over, tying the belt about her waist. She scoops up her boots and a few other objects and then follows to the entrance, stepping outside and closing the flap before following Syval towards the fire.

"Mmmmm." Jyslin yawns again. "Anything to report?" she inquires, just as she lowers herself to a seat by the fire and starts by working her feet into her boots.

Syval's own backlit eyes blink back as the mage watches the groggy priestess silently until he gets a nod. Then the little gumball drifts back up with a point of his hand and slowly creeps its way back out the tent while Jyslin rummages for her clothes.

Once back outside the tent and settling down, the dragon therianthrope covers his mouth on another yawn of his own and gives the priestess a little blameful glare before seating himself as well. "That swamp bugs are noisy and we killed everything hard enough that it's still dead," he answers in a dry attempt at humor. "The forest is glad I think."

Jyslin meets that reproachful look with tolerant innocence, as if wondering just what it is that earned her that gaze, despite knowing it is likely her yawning. She cannot be blamed for yawning, dangit. That's not fair at all! "I imagine the swamp here is very glad for our success so far, and will be even happier after Andie does whatever it is she needs to do. Especially glad nothing decided to make itself known after the fight."

They've been through enough.

"How are you feeling? Anything lingering from the fight?" Troll claws are not the cleanest, after all, and these were hag- and coven-backed trolls, so anything is possible. Jyslin cannot see that it hurts to ask, at least.

Syval smiles in the distinctive soft and confident way that creases his brow ever slightly and makes his eyes more intense, dragon-like, as he assures, "Not physically. Tired from the journey and the battle but between my nature and the healing draught the only thing hurt was my clothes." Which the priestess might notice are fully in their proper state again. No half-dressed dragon-mages tonight.

"It did take me a time to relax after so much action. And how about you? You were cautious after the trolls fled." Lifting his gumball again so it shows in the light, Syval offers it half-floating to the blonde were-tigress. "Here, have some wizard's gum."

Jyslin stretches out a bit more languidly, and Syval can likely hear some pops as things release and twist about. She groans a little at all of that, and smiles. "I was very hyped up and tense, after the right. Especially given the numbers that fled. I was very concerned they might decide to wait until our guard was down and strike again. And even moreso because I know Andie expended a lot of her power to turn the tide of the battle for all our sakes."

Jyslin eyes the wizard gum and shakes her head. "That's yours, Syval. You should keep and enjoy it. All I really need is water and time. Some stretching helped earlier." There's a slight touch of color to Jyslin's cheeks as she mentions that. "Is Honoria doing OK? I know she doesn't regenerate like you and I do." And she knows that Syval cares about the lady knight, and will have paid attention.

The wizard's brow quirks as his dark-adapted eyes spot the subtle color and he chuckles softly. "I have and can make more," he assures before turning to regather his pack. The usual suspects are half exposed from his earlier diversions: his map case, water skin, note slate, and books. "That was wise to keep caution. I've never known trolls to flee, and even less to make clever strategies, but fighting the rest of them would have been... messy."

Tugging the leather buckle of his pack shut, Syval grimaces in a way that's somewhere between worry and exasperation. "She broke a rib and as usual is toughing it out, so I think she would be grateful if you prepare some healing magic for the morning. Nothing fatal apparently, and she asked not to be woken up just for mending. I get the feeling today was more normal for her than it was for us."

The green-haired therianthrope pauses, as if there's more to say, then instead asks, "And how is our witch?"

The ashen-blonde priestess finally reaches down and accepts the bit of wizard gum, sniffing it again and then placing it into her mouth, slowly and experimentally tasting it, then starting to chew through it. Her voice, when she speaks, changes as her jaw and tongue work around the gum now.

"Apparently trolls can and do use strategy, when led by those with more of a mind for it. Like, I assume, hag covens." Jyslin comments, proving it is new to her, too, but that she asked some questions and received additional insights.

Jyslin purses her lip and almost gets up from her seat when Syval mentions that Honoria has broken a rib; only the fact he goes on to explain she does not wish to be awakened for healing keeps her from doing so. "A hard, stubborn woman." she comments, more under her breath than not, both impressed and maybe a little concerned.

"I think both Honoria and Andie are ... better prepared for something like today than you or I." And Jyslin sounds troubled by this. From her perspective she has always been the one with over a decade's experience as a roamer, a warrioress of the wilds, and blessed with the power of the weretigress. She imagined herself Andie's protector and guardian, as well as her friend and ... other, more intimate things. Seeing, today, what Andie is truly capable of doing, what she is able to confront without gawping or being stunned, has forced Jyslin to realize that she herself is little more than a hanger-on. A pawn. A minion. And not a terribly worthy one at that.

The hard ball of tree resin has a sweetness that shocks the tongue at first brush before mellowing out, with fruity overtones and a cinnamon spice. Wetted by saliva, it softens gradually from its rock-like consistency to something vaguely chewable.

"She is, she is," Syval agrees with a smile. "I also think she didn't want to disturb your tent. I only let her go because it seemed she'd had such an injury before. I'm sure she's bandaged herself and... whatever else a person does for that." The young wizard casts a look across their firepit that's a singular mix of grateful and unsure. The life-long therianthrope may be convincing himself as much as Jyslin.

"I'm glad I'm not the only therianthrope in our party," he says across the flickering embers. "Other people are all so fragile... At least with you, seeing you on all four feet after the battle was enough." The gratitude reaches Syval's smile and in his eyes is a small glimmer of fondness and something else. Perhaps if they hadn't been traveling with the rose-haired witch, their night talks up until now would have gone somewhere different. "These massed battles for control of whole regions are a thing of a different time, beyond the turns of fate. I'll take your skills over Andie's to lead us anywhere in the Shaar. Doubly so in the light of the moon."

Jyslin shifts position a bit, then lifts her eyes to gaze at the emerald-haired mage across the fire. She nods a bit, slowly. "I guess I grew up more normal; I don't think about how fragile others are, only more about how resilient I have become. Or how resilient I guess I want to believe I am."

After all, Jyslin could not have won today's battle. That was impossible. No matter how well she feels she may have done, she cannot help viewing her contribution as a mere pittance compared to Honoria, or Andie. It is humbling for her, and a bit terrifying. "I never wanted to be some great hero, changing the world." Her words make it clear that she does not see 'great hero' in herself ... but that she now recognizes she will be drawn into just that level of battle, likely time and time again. And all woefully unprepared.

The roamer turned priestess grins a bit at the weredragon's humor and nods in acknowledgement of the compliment. She appreciates it. "I do my best." She did not speak after the battle, of course; tiger jaws are not made for conversation. So she asks what seems the obvious question: "So, what now, for you? Dead-head back to Delzimmer? Over to Wishwell Village to join a returning caravan?"

"Neither of us is immortal but if we don't over-reach ourselves, well," Syval gestures loosely to the fireside, counting tiger and dragon both. "To say nothing of our stamina. It's fair to say growing up I would have died six times over at least, more since then. We're both favored by Selune and I think Chipira as well. I think our paths are guarded in their own way."

Reaching to his bicep, the wizard brushes his finger along the shimmering blue sapphires of his armband, appreciating it as much now as ever before his sandy brown eyes look back over to Jyslin unhindered by any failing of light. "To Aramis next and then Chipira decides," he responds with the simple confidence of faith. "After we rest here first of course. Honoria needs to visit them. I would like to hunt down the coven's home so no new evil can take their place, but whether we then return to Delzimmer with a pack horse loaded with trade goods, go north to Daer-Calt, or elsewhere I leave to fate."

Syval snorts lightly as he flits his eyes back to the occupied tents before returning to the blonde priestess. "Honestly I'm not sure how I'll even travel with new parties now, it's going to itch..."

"How about you?" the dragon asks the tiger.

Jyslin sighs gustily and shrugs. "Honestly? I get the feeling, as much from what Andie refuses to say as from what she does let slip, that Selune has a plan for me. A big plan. One that I would probably panic about if I knew." Bald honesty there. "For now, I will stay with Andie. Until my heart, my faith, or the very words of my goddess send me elsewhere, I will stay with her. But I do not think she will stay here very long. A week or two at most, I suspect. She came to solve a problem, and once that is done it will all be about trying to time the next leg of her journey to something else I cannot see or imagine."

After a bit of quiet chewing and thinking, eventually Jyslin does speak up again. "I admit, I would like to see Aramis. I have heard so much about the place. But I don't want to impose, and if Andie is called elsewhere, I do not want to be separated." She doesn't even bring up that she suspects if she is ever separated from Andie she might never find her again.

Syval smiles dryly in sympathy and nods at the roamer's assessment. "I agree about Selune's plan, though I think at least she will be good to you, come what may. Your blessed nature is proof enough of her favor... and you were just sleeping with her daughter."

"Maybe in that way I have it easy among us all," the wizard apprentice admits as he fiddles absentmindedly with the hem of his robe. "I may not have known my own nature until recently but I always knew Chipira meant me for something. Now it's just... finding out. I'm certain I could pass half a year here exploring myself and not grow bored, but I don't presume to have the time. That's something for me to do on the way to what needs done."

The buzz of insects crescendo to a peak in volume loud enough that Syval pauses and gives the woods a dry look as he waits for them to settle down. Leaning in, he continues. "I'd like us all to go to Aramis, and I don't think Andie will be so hard to convince. I think the genies she spoke of will bring us together again in three years, but I'm in no rush to separate before then. Especially from a roamer like you, priestess," the mage adds with a ribbing smile that's dampened only a bit by the young man's fatigue. "You aren't even charging as a guide." Jyslin smirks a bit at that. "Mmm. True. We're actually paying you to come along with us." she observes, clearly not having thought about any of that in quite some time. Those arrangements had completely slipped her mind. "Once Andie is done here, or at least once the bonding here is done I'll ask her about Aramis. I honestly do not know. It's ... there are no swamps up there." The Andie Jyslin knows is one that has always been in a swamp, or traveling between them. Their visits to towns or cities have been infrequent and very brief, only just passing through.

"I worry about Selune's plans for me, simply because I fear I may not measure up to what she wants or needs." Jyslin admits very quietly. "That is one of the things that has been freaking me out, since I discovered who and what Andie really is." Because surely a Sister Alvamere would not start a relationship with someone who is not worthy of them, right? And given how important they are, what does a mortal have to be, have to do to be worthy of them?

Jyslin has not internalized the potential alternative explanation. Not yet.

"A Delzmaer does not forget debts, though the handful of gold Andie owes is paltry compared to what else we've made. Don't worry that I won't make right for it, and leave you both plenty of spending money," Syval assures, glad to have lightened the mood if only for a moment.

At the blonde priestess' admission he falls silent again, regarding Jyslin with warm Chipiran confidence, an anchor for her uncertainty that it'll all work out. Scooting around the firepit, the dragon-touched young man raises an arm, wordlessly inviting her in against him.

Jyslin does scoot over and hug Syval firmly. Then she offers, "You should get to bed. Even you need sleep. I'll see you in the morning. Then maybe we can organize some exploration of the clearing, here, while Andie prepares her rituals." Who knows what the trolls and hags might have left behind, after all?

Thick arms cradle the priestess with absolute security against the preternaturally well-built mage, the much younger therianthrope physically and mentally sturdy and resolute. Blessedly his robes don't smell of troll offal - if anything there's a faint whiff of cinnamon and magic. Once they part Syval offers a smile, then chuckles as he bows his head to Jyslin's direction. "I do but it was worth staying up. I look forward to our respite together, and you know I'm always open to talk."

Taking his bardiche and bag in hand, Syval lifts himself back to his feet and looks down at Jyslin's mess of dirty-blonde hair. There again is that mote of fondness in his eyes. "May your watch be as boring as mine, and the bugs a little less noisy," he bids before departing from the fireside and disappearing into his tent.