<font color=white>I didn't think it was a bad idea%01</font>

I didn't think it was a bad idea,
IP: 66.208.250.154
Posted on October 28, 2014 at 10:32:59 PM by birch

Between her various charges and the people she fought with, Birch had spent the majority of her life in the presence of males. There had been a few over the years that had drawn her attention, and a few that she'd spent time with, but it had been a long time since she'd felt both attraction and genuine interest so quickly. Jacopo wasn't traditionally handsome, but there was a sense of... depth, to him, that pricked Birch's curiosity. This was a man who had lived, who would have stories to tell. Perhaps not happy stories, she thought as she studied the grumpy expression that seemed to be his trademark, but others would likely say the same about her with her scarred face and warrior's bearing. Flirting really wasn't her strong suit, and she was loathe to try out the rusty skills on Jacopo, but... Perhaps she'd have to talk to someone, learn a bit more how that sort of thing worked. But Torram wouldn't be much help - he turned a violent shade of red and developed an unbecoming stutter around girls he liked (the mere mention of Alethea was enough to cause him fits) - and since she didn't know many other people she could talk to about such things, she'd just have to figure it out herself. They seemed to be doing alright just then.

Birch dutifully copies Jacopo's translations down on a fresh sheet of paper, her own handwriting only marginally better than the original. At least she could read her own writing! Her tongue was clasped between her teeth, the pink tip just barely sticking out from between her lips, as she wrote. Learning to write had been a difficult process once she'd returned from her feral state, and had earned her mentor many bruises from items thrown out of frustration, but she'd practiced often to hold her own. Jacopo's comment brought her back to their conversation, and startled a laugh out of her. Her eyes twinkled and, falling back on old habits, she gave him a nudge with her elbow.

"Well, maybe..." she began, her playful pause and the gleam in her eye suggesting she was thinking of something less appropriate, before she laughed again. "Maybe we'd better just stick to Birch for now."

Her head cocked to the side at his next words, her expression open and curious. Many people, in all walks of life, spoke multiple languages, but it seemed a shame to waste his talents on gardening when he so clearly excelled at deciphering impossible handwriting.

"I'm sure you'll run into my charge then," she said. Her tones was exasperated, but affectionately so, as she added. "Torram's a woodworking apprentice, though I have to say I think he likes looking at the trees more than he likes working with them. He's always rambling about the ones at the castle."

She resisted, barely, the urge to roll her eyes at this. She'd much rather be on the practice field, wrestling around with her fellow guards, then looking at trees.

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