familiar images [OPEN! for anyone]

[Kat]

Ripley understood that plants were important, for food and in some instances for medication, but he never found them entirely appealing. He found dead plants appealing, if he was treating someone with them or if he was eating, and he never minded potted plants, as he had been forced to tend to his master’s small medicinal garden when he was younger and less useful in other tasks, but Ripley had never had much experience with large agricultural plains. The fact that he considered the Eyrie gardens to be a large agricultural plain demonstrated his naivety about the issue; the world of farming and growing was mysterious to Ripley, who was completely unaware of his agricultural ignorance. Today, though, Ripley was taking the opportunity to expand his horizons and embrace the lush beauty of plants. Sitting on the side of the pond, on a small swatch of fabric to prevent his pants from being soiled by dirt, Ripley sat with a book propped up against the backs of his legs, so that the man was curled over his body, intently reading a dense book, one written about human anatomy. The task was menial, Ripley already knew every page of the book, but he needed the comfort of familiarity in order to sort out his constant, pestering worries about his choices and the stress of his mounting excitement over the upcoming hatching. Ripley had never believed that he could be excited about a non-medical event, but suddenly, the allure of the Eyrie had captured him in a frenzy of unfamiliar emotion.

The man was not enjoying his adventure into outdoor reading. He found that the area near the pond was rather buggy, and he kept bitterly swatting at the air in order to prevent the bugs’ decent on his exposed skin. In some ways, the man’s tizzy was comical; his body language expressed such a strong distaste for his situation that he almost appeared pouty and thus childish. The gardens were still more pleasant than his bedroom, which was not his own space and not clean enough to please the surgeon, and the more time he spent in the room, the angrier and more upset he became. He did not need the added stress the chaos of his sleeping quarters—he needed a way to modulate his emotions so that he did not become visibly upset again like he had the other day. Ripley turned a page in the book, connecting the action to a large sweep of his hand in the air, so that he could lazily scan another familiar image of information he knew well enough to recreate.

The more time Ripley spent outside, however, the more pleasant the experience became. The flowers which surrounded him were pretty, a lush carpet of color and life, and the water by which he sat seemed refreshing, cool, and clear. Even though the thought of wet, muddy feet horrified Ripley, who was not found of mud, let alone mud on his body or on his clothing, the appeal of the water kept drawing his attention away from the well worn pages of his book of drawings. A part of him wanted to drip his hand into the water, to let his fingers drape across the filmy surface of the pond. The rest of him found that idea repulsive, which only prevented the action and not the conception of the idea. The large man sighed, his body shaking for a brief second, before he turned another page, waving the bugs away a second time. Ripley wished he could enjoy the silence around him, embrace the fact that he was finally alone and not working on menial and pointless chores or boring but necessary lessons, but no matter how long he stared at his book, he could not pull his attention away from his worry, his excitement, or distractions.

[Fox]

The towering rock walls of the natural canyon cradling Eyrie had been a marvelous sight when Leannan had first arrived in the cliffside city. She had been fascinated by the beauty of the northern Pohonian forests, entranced by the majesty of the caverns meandering deep into the canyon walls, and truthfully nearly went into a squealing fit over the heated bathing pools interspersed between living quarters. It had all seemed like heaven, and the young woman had for a while indulged in simply being a teenager; exploring Eyrie from the its northernmost point right down to the closed, rocky other end of the canyon. After a few days, though, the novelty of the place had begun to wear a little thin, and with the only view of the sky sandwiched between the red canyon rock, it hadn't taken much for Lea to feel more than slightly trapped. As a girl who had grown up under the sprawling blue skies and open landscape of Itnala, this place, as beautiful as it was, had become oppressive and she had quickly become frustrated by the seeming lack of open space. If she had been able, Lea would have been perfectly happy to scale the walls if only she could reach a place where she could see sky again, but the young midwife was bound not just by her candidacy and her own pride, but by a secret, irrational fear that she might lose her chance to stand for the hatching of the Lady Eceph's clutch.

So far, the closest that Lea had come to finding any place that soothed her constant feel of imprisonment were the interwoven series of gardens that took up a good portion of Eyrie's northern end. That was why, on a morning that would have been perfectly suited to sleeping in- the girl did not relish another obnoxiously cheerful, rainbow-streaked wake-up call- Lea found herself out wandering through the greenery; slowly and seemingly without an aim. Truly, though, she was headed for a small pond that she had stumbled upon the other day on just such a meandering foray through the gardens. It was at times like this that she felt strangely useless; there were no patients here to advise, no practical use to which she could apply her trade. A midwife was not needed in Eyrie; not yet at any rate. Bleakly, a sigh floated past her lips. Leannan the midwife she was no longer, and Leannan the Candidate was still a new person to her. In the hustle and bustle of chores, lessons and more chores, she hardly knew up from down any more, much less had time to sit down and puzzle things out as they would be, all going well, for the rest of her life.

A sudden stinging sensation on her arm made Lea flinch, her arm shooting out in an instinctive reaction to crush the tiny, blood-sucking insect to death in the place where it had thought to have a free meal. Blinking, she looked at the small smear of blood on her hand. Well. There was an indication that she was getting closer to her goal. It also meant that Lea had best be prepared. The smallest of frowns creased her forehead as the young woman turned to veer off the path, eyes on the ground as she searched for what she was sure would be around somewhere. She made quite a picture; a soberly-dressed young woman in a simple shirt tucked into pants and well-worn boots pacing through the bushes and shrubbery looking like she was on a hunt for some ingredient for a witch's brew. It only got worse when Lea spotted what she was looking for and pounced on it with a grin and a loud "Aha!" and resurfaced into view after a few moments with grass stains on her knees and, of all things, a handful of long stems with dark green leaves clutched tightly in one fist.

She continued on to the pond with a spring in his step and what sounded like a cheery little tune emerging from her throat. Then, as she stepped past a disguising hedge, the woman came up short as if she was a puppet whose strings had just been yanked backwards. There was a person here, in the place where Lea had least suspected that she would have company. Force of habit pushed a smile onto her face. "Oh." she said, surprise lifting her eyebrows high. "Hello."

[Kat]

While he might not have been absorbed by his reading material, Ripley’s attention was focused enough on the pages that he did not hear the other person approach. The woman’s voice surprised Ripley, enough so that he sat up, startled, to his full height, no longer stooped over his body. He tensed into a position of stiff formality which represented the carriage with which he was most comfortable addressing strangers. Because of his position, his shirt was slightly wrinkled, the lines creasing at the point where his waist bent so he could read. Ripley closed the book he was reading, glancing briefly at the page number before he did so, before he turned to look at the woman. His brown eyes scanned her over, and he had an odd feeling that he knew her, and that the fact that he could not recall who she was and where he knew her from was humiliating. Ripley guessed she was a candidate, as he did not see a Simourv anywhere nearby, and the girl lacked the typical clothing of a rider, but Ripley felt that her candidacy was not from where his feeling of nagging familiarity heralded. He did not mean to stare at her, but he was frustrated with his feeling and his inability to remember. His memory was extremely good; he almost never forgot faces, but for some reason, he could not place this one. Not only could he not connect it to a name, but he also could not place, even, from where he knew the woman.

Other than his annoyance at being unable to name the woman, Ripley thought she looked interesting, or at least extremely acceptable. She was dressed in a sensible and clean manner, attributes Ripley found impressive in any individual. The woman was small, a slip of a person, pretty and cheery looking. The woman’s smile made Ripley feel obligated to smile back, and his lips turned upwards into a small grin. He wondered if he should stand, but then decided that if he did so he was not entirely sure he could justify the action. Ripley, instead, tightened his smile and raised a hand in the form of a casual wave.
”Hello.”
Ripley began, as he tried to decide how to respond to her intrusion. He did not mind her distraction, even though he should have been interested in his action. He had been distracted since he began, after all, and the distraction of the girl seemed like it might be more interested than wistfully staring at the water in the pond.
”I didn’t expect anyone to come out here.”
Ripley added with a small shrug of his shoulders. He had come to the gardens to be alone, but now that someone had intruded, he found that he preferred the thought of company to his lonely brooding.

And because he liked the thought of talking to the girl, Ripley nodded his head, before he turned to make eye contact with the girl again.
”I mean, because it is uncomfortably hot out. Not that pleasant for gardens.”
Ripley responded with a small sigh. The hot, mugginess was unfortunate, but the situation was more appealing than remaining in his dirty room. The comment, though, was less of a statement of his thoughts, and more a means to extend the conversation. He especially wanted to probe the woman enough to figure out from where he knew her face. Ripley would be delicate about his questioning; he was a man of tact, and he did not speak inappropriately or out of place.
”Are you a candidate as well?”
Ripley questioned; he figured they could discuss their pasts from there. The girl had probably been a patient at one point, or a vender in Sayaie with whom he had worked. He just needed to alleviate that awful nagging feeling which made him feel rather guilty and a bit like a failure. Ripley disliked when his memory failed; it was one of his greatest assets.

[Fox]

When the man started in surprise at her greeting, Lea couldn't quite help the responding amused twitch of her mouth. It was plain that he had been absorbed in the book she could see propped on his knees; there was no other way that he could have missed the sounds of her approach, especially since Lea was fairly sure that she had been making enough noise to easily alert anyone who wasn't half-deaf. The man straightened from his slouched position, and the young woman blinked to notice that, even though he was seated, it was still plain he was tall. He was dressed very sensibly, and was obviously quite studious if the size of the book was anything to go by. Lea was also vastly amused to see that he was sitting on a small square of cloth to avoid getting his clothes dirty. What was the point, she wondered, of coming outdoors and then being so finicky about your clothes getting dirty? It wasn't even that muddy on the banks of the pond; at most he would come away a little damp around the seat of his pants. The young woman's scrutiny halted, however, when the fellow turned his head to look at her. Her eyebrows drew downwards ever so slightly as something familiar in his face struck against a chord of her memory; something in the set of his brown eyes, the boyish shape of his face- even though he was plainly older than her- and even, no, especially, those ears.

She was certain that this man was not from Itnala. Itnala was a small place where everyone knew everyone, and a stranger could not go unremarked. But then, how could she know him? The facts clashed jarringly with the sense of familiarity, almost recognition, that surfaced at the sight of him, but the answers were just. Out. Of. Reach. It was incredibly frustrating. Forcefully smoothing the frown off her face, Lea renewed the smile in response to his wave, and took the gesture as permission to sit, not particularly caring if it wasn't. She plopped herself down on the bare earth a few feet away from him; a distance that was carefully calculated to be companionable but removed enough not to be intrusive.

Didn't expect company? Neither did I, laddybuck. "I didn't expect anyone to be out here." Lea replied genially, beginning to methodically strip the leaves from the stems she still held. This near to the pond, the insects were worse than she had yet seen them. Out of the corner of her eye, the young woman scrutinised him as subtly as she could and found the results unsatisfactory. She was absolutely sure that she had met him before. But she didn't know where and she couldn't remember his name. Plainly, he was a candidate; none of the riders really went anywhere without their simourvs, and there were none in sight. If she couldn't see them, then it was almost certain that there were none in the immediate vicinity; it was kind of hard to miss a creature the size of a large house. "But for gardens, better to be hot than too cold." she countered, raising an eyebrow. "If they get enough water, plants will survive the heat. Cold, though, will kill them off in an instant." And then where would they be? Likely without potatoes or carrots or any sort of vegetable at their meals. After a moment, she relented. "But yes, it is uncomfortably hot today."

Absently, Lea looked out over the still water while her hands worked, rolling the leaves between her palms to crush them. An appetizing smell wafted up from the fragile greens, as Lea rubbed the her bundle over the backs of her hands. Rosemary was a natural insect repellent; the midwife always made sure to have a pot of it growing on her windowsill at home, not just for the lovely smell and potential flavouring for food, but also because certain blood-sucking insects carried diseases that brought fever and sickness to healthy folk but could also cause a woman to lose her baby, and possibly even her life in the process. It was best not to take chances. A question, posed by the Mysteriously Familiar Fellow, made her glance at him. 'As well'? Ah, then he was a candidate. "Indeed I am, good sir. I don't believe we have met." By this, she meant, in their capacity as candidates, but she couldn't quite keep the slight tongue-in-cheek tone in check. "My name is Leannan. Would you like some rosemary?" Completely heedless of how strange a conversational leap that was, Lea offered the man the extra two sprigs of rosemary that she had picked, a pleasant, blank smile on her face.

[Kat]

Ripley was glad when the woman sat. He had meant to invite her with his wave to join him, and it was much more promising for a continuing conversation if the woman was seated. Ripley watched the woman begin to interact with the plant with interest, as she appeared to have a good concept of what to do with the plant. He did not stare at her, but he watched her, holding eye contact for periods of time, and dropping it only to scan the woman down with his gaze in an attempt to place her again. Why she was causing him so much difficulty, Ripley could not tell, and the more he watched her, the more sure he was that he knew her. Any thoughts he had that he might just be wrong about having known her previously disappeared the more he looked at her. It began a matter of where he knew her from, not if he knew her, and the problem irked him even more than the bugs which buzzed around his body, or the sticky heat which wrapped around him.
”I needed to get away from the stress of everything.”
Ripley explained as a reason for his presence. He referred not only to a negative stress, but also to the toll the mounting enthusiasm for his position caused him and his emotional control. Although upon first meeting the man, he came across as a stern and cold person, Ripley was actually quite passionate and emotive. He learned to control his emotions, because he had learned that emotions conveyed weakness and fragility, especially in relation to his work, which required extreme emotional control. The man had to work, though, to prevent himself from being overwhelmed by his passionate capacity. He had gotten really good at it, but the candidate life was seeping into Ripley’s mentality and infecting him with enough tension and stress to degrade some of his control.

Ripley listened to the woman discuss the temperature outside, and he nodded in agreement. He knew the gardens were very important, even if he, himself, did not want to work in an agricultural manner. What she said was also true, and he needed to acknowledge her realistic sentiment.
”I suppose you are correct, and the gardens do provide us with fresh food.”
Winter was always such an unfortunate time for food, as everything was leftovers from the peak harvest times, preserved in some way, often with sugar, salt, or fermentation. The food became tiresome quickly, all too salty or sweet and unpleasant in texture.
”But I do wish it was a little cooler out. It would make my reading more pleasant.”
Ripley added with a small shrug of his shoulders. He was not a person who spent much time in the outdoors, and so he was not used to dealing with unfavorable conditions. Ripley liked being outside when the conditions were comfortable and perfect, but otherwise he found that he preferred being in the controllable inside. Ripley was a man of control—he liked having control and was comfortable with control, and nature was the ultimate uncontrollable force.

When the girl said her name, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and Ripley’s eyes blazed with understanding and recognition. The girl—he did know her, and in those few seconds, he knew exactly from where he knew her. He gasped slightly, as the force of the recognition struck him, before his face turned into a satisfied and victorious smirk, one that showed his pleasure at having connected the face with a name and with a situation.
”You’re the daughter of the surgeon Nathanael, no?”
Ripley questioned, relishing in the pleasure of solving a mystery which had been pestering him.
”We’ve actually met—around eight years ago, I’m Donovan’s apprentice—“
Ripley paused, his lips twitching into a line, before he shrugged.
”Was Donovan’s apprentice, I suppose. My name is Ripley…”
He trailed off to see if the girl would remember him. Their meeting had been a long time ago, and Leannan had only been ten. When he explained who he was, Ripley spoke sheepishly, his face gaining a touch of pink color. He had not been very nice to little Leannan at the time, and was a bit humiliated by his adolescent self, who had been insecure and obnoxious. Ripley hoped that he had grown into a much better person, but no matter what, he was forced to accept his wrong-doing in the past.
”And I suppose I will take some rosemary; it will repel bugs, no?”
Ripley questioned as he took the sprigs. Even though he knew the purpose of the plant, he had no idea how to utilize those properties. He held the plants awkwardly, before he shrugged his shoulders and smiled sheepishly.
”What do I do with it?”
He questioned, as he began to rub the plants between his thumb and forefinger. His large hands enveloped the sprigs, as he tried to expose the scent. The man studied books; he knew what plants did, but he rarely knew exactly how to use them, except in cases where they were medicinal plants he had been trained to use. Ripley’s book knowledge was vast, but his practical knowledge lacked in some areas.

[Fox]

The man was looking at her and at the plants she held with an interest and focus that was astounding. Not many people could harbor such intensity when simply watching someone crush leaves to release the scent, and Lea fancied she could almost see the gears turning in his head. Every so often, he would look up at her face, with the same sort of scrutiny that she knew reflected on hers, and Lea was certain that the hint of recognition went both ways. Curious, she pushed the niggling feeling out of the way, to simply observe him as she would have, had she not been distracted. Judging, by the rather long expanse of leg and torso, he was tall; taller than Lea by far she would wager, and his face when he smiled was pleasant and not at all bad-looking. It was also rather galling to realise that she envied him the dimples she could see even when he wasn't smiling. "I guessed..." she returned absently, her warm tone making the words seem understanding rather than smug, for Lea did know what he meant by stress. A soft sigh slipped past her lips, as she reflected on the fact that if the searchrider had not found her, it was certainly likely that she would still be stuck in the rut she had been in prior to becoming a candidate; useful, but without any other goal in her life. Here, she had that goal, at the cost of not knowing how to be of any use.

Shaking herself back to alertness, the young woman set her small bundle of crushed herbs on the ground beside her, nodding in agreement to the man's statement. It amused her, though, to observe that plainly the man did not relish being out of doors if he found that he couldn't concentrate in this heat. Lea had lost count of the many times that she had gone out to garden in the high heat of summer with only a broad-brimmed straw hat to fend off sunstroke. It wasn't that unpleasant out by most standards. "It's not that bad, though." she responded conversationally, her eyes gleaming merrily at the chance to poke fun. "The heat wave's hardly even begun. Surely a fellow like you isn't such a city boy that he can't take a bit of heat." To diffuse the comment, Lea grinned crookedly, conveying without words that she meant to offense. As she looked at him, though, her eyes happened to fall on the book on his lap, specifically to the title, visible if she tilted her head a little bit to the right. What she saw set off that niggling feeling of familiarity again. He was reading a book on the human anatomy? Why? There weren't that many young men who would bother to pick up such hard-going reading material. Unless... He was a surgeon? Lea's eyes widened and she had the ridiculous urge to snap her fingers, even though her efforts never actually yielded anything close to a snap.

"Nathanael is my father." She agreed, an answering grin pulling at her lips. A face flashed into her memory that was similar to the one she now looked at, but rounder and younger, and a good deal shorter. The name still escaped her, but she remembered him; the apprentice surgeon from Sayaie, who had been generally quite unpleasant, and most definitely a spoilsport, to ten-year-old Leannan. The triumph of a mystery solved was quite heady. Ah, Ripley. Donovan's apprentice. That was his name. "I remember you. It's quite a small world, isn't it?" Lea replied to his introduction, her grin slowly taking on a wicked twist. "You were quite an... obnoxious boy, if I recall correctly." Plainly, though, he had matured over the eight years between then and now. He was actually quite pleasant to talk to, and the faint blush that she could see on his cheeks honestly just made her want to laugh. But then again, she hadn't exactly been the nicest of girls either; well she could remember being a bossy, know-it-all little brat, so there wasn't much she could complain about.

"Rub them in your hands to release the smell and some of the oils. You're going to have to do it harder than that." she instructed, her voice taking on a maternal, teaching tone, though her lips still twitched with suppressed amusement. "Ideally, we would use a pestle and mortar to crush the leaves, then boil them in water to break it down and get the full value of its properties. Not difficult to prepare, very useful for keeping away the insects, and pretty decent as a perfume too. Some people prefer to use dried leaves, but they end up smelling musty and rather dead." Lea paused, then realised that she had, without noticing, gone off into a short lecture on how to prepare rosemary. It was easy for her to be passionate about her work, and it often showed in how animated she would become when discussing treatments and illnesses and even problems like breech birth. Herb lore was an interest of hers that was mostly very useful in the little things, like providing comfort during a pregnancy. Still, it didn't really excuse dumping information on someone who probably didn't want it. "Sorry." she muttered, contrite, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "I get a little carried away sometimes." Which was rather the largest understatement to be made in a decade. But who was counting?

[Kat]

Ripley was a city boy, certainly, and he nodded his head and smiled widely at the girl’s comment. He, of course, knew how to live in heat, but in the hotter months, Ripley usually kept to the indoors, not because he could not stand heat, but rather because his profession kept him inside for long periods of time. He had the luxury of having one of the few jobs on Pohono which could be preformed indoors, and he relished in his luck. He grinned to show that he did not mind her comment; he was not at all insulted by it, because it was simply true. In many ways, he was a wimp, at least when it came to interacting with nature. Ripley had the ability to deal with all sorts of gore and violence, but dirt and mud left him bothe3red, and his weather tolerance was sensitive.
”This city boy usually reads indoors.”
Ripley admitted with a small shrug of his shoulders. People developed tolerance to certain body stresses. Ripley had developed, for example, a rather high pain tolerance from when he used to practice stitching and cutting on his own body, but his tolerance for bugs and heat were minimal. He could admit this flaw, because he understood that he was being rather soft-skinned.

Ripley watched the recognition build on Leannan’s face, and he smiled. He imagined that she felt similarly to him—very satisfied to find the answer to the mystery of the other’s identity. The recognition grew on Leannan’s face so obviously, too, and Ripley watched her slip through the phases of the realization.
”Yeah, I guess it is a small world. I never thought I would run into you again in a capacity which was not medical.”
Ripley announced as he glanced over her with new, understanding eyes. She was pretty, although she looked similar to how she had when she was little, although she had remained small. Ripley guessed he stood over a foot taller than her, and she was also very thin and lithe—pretty, too, which was not an adjective fifteen-year-old Ripley would have used to describe the ten-year-old girl who he had so resented at the time. He should have known she would have turned out nice looking; he had that kind of luck.

When Leannan described younger Ripley as obnoxious, the older man’s face became redder, enough so that the tips of his large ears turned the color of watered-down blood. He lifted one of his hands to rub one of his now-hot ears, almost as if he was trying to mask the color.
”I’m sorry about that. I was an awful kid. I hope I’ve matured since then.”
Ripley explained with a small, embarrassed shrug of his shoulders. As he spoke, though, a light-hearted smirk twitched across his face. As a fifteen year old, Ripley had found Leannan a know-it-all, bossy snatch of a girl. She had not been very pleasant to be around. Of course, her hostility towards him was probably his fault, as he had disregarded and dismissed her from the second he had met her.
” I remember that you were rather bossy and annoying, though, if you don’t mind me pointing out.”
Ripley added. He spoke light-heartedly, and his light tone expressed the fact that he did not mean to insult the girl.

Ripley followed Leannan’s instructions, and he rubbed the plant harder, so that he could smell the oils which were released. He had a soft hand usually, except when he needed to add more pressure, which he currently employed. He enjoyed listening to her explanation, it was useful information, and it she seemed so excited by it. It was refreshing to find someone who was passionate like he was about knowledge. It was a powerful tool, more powerful than any weapon Ripley knew.
”It’s alright; I understand.”
Ripley beamed at the girl, a bright and genuine grin which illuminated even his oft cold, brown eyes. He was really impressed by her animation and her excitement, and he hoped that she might provide him with more information at another time. And Ripley, well, he understood being excited about one’s work; he could be enthralled when discussing anatomy and stitching, scalpels and blood. They were wonderful, living topics, and he could never know or understand enough.

[Fox]

Leannan wasn't sure what reply she had been expecting from the older man, but what she got wasn't it. In fact, it was so unexpected that the response startled a laugh out of her, albeit one that made Lea's hand shoot up to cover her mouth. As she subsided from the short burst of mirth, the young woman reflected with amusement how much eight years had changed Ripley. The angst-y fifteen-year-old that she remembered from so long ago would never have admitted such a flaw, much less stooped to making fun of himself because of it. She felt almost like she had to give him brownie points for at least trying and being out here in the first place "Then you're smarter than I gave you credit for." Lea replied, shooting him a crooked grin that made her brown eyes gleam warmly. "City Boy." Briefly, her nose crinkled in a teasing face, having already decided that that should be his new nickname. It was certainly apt, if his general attitude towards the great outdoors was any indication, and miles more amusing than Ripley, as nice a name as it was. And she couldn't deny that reading indoors, sprawled out on the cool hearth of her own house, was a very tempting idea in the heat. Lea could stand the heat pretty well; but that didn't mean that she wouldn't take whatever chance she got to get out of it.

Leaning back, the young woman braced herself on her hands, tilting her head up to stare into the blue sky above. Or, at least, what they could see of it. The blue stripe was nothing compared to the landscape of Itnala, and Lea was surprised by how much she missed the place. "Neither did I." she mused absently. Oh look; that cloud looked like a bird. "But I rather hoped I wouldn't run into you again at all." Immediately after the words left her mouth, she shot into a straight-backed position, eyes wide. She shot Ripley an embarrassed, slightly guilty glance, red flushing her cheeks. "I didn't mean that! Or- well- I did at the time, but I take it back! You're much nicer now than you were then and- oh, I'm just going to shut up." Lea could feel the heat that was rushing into her face, and she rubbed her cheeks vigorously, as if that could stave off the flow of blood. In truth, it would probably only hasten it, but Lea was past the point of caring about the little details. On occasion, her mouth tended to run away with her, and it was mortifying whenever it happened because she tended to say the first thing that came to mind, unflattering or not.

Her face was still red as Ripley apologised, and then it was her turn to laugh somewhat sheepishly. Yes, she had been a rather unpleasant specimen of ten-year-old girl, and well she knew it. She knew she had been rather spoiled as a child, and now that she had grown up a little it was both amusing and embarrassing to look back on the times when she had been at her worst. "Touche." she responded, raising one hand half-heartedly in the old gesture for a fencer's acknowledgement of a hit. "I hope I've matured a bit too. Not too much, though." Lea grinned, her face the epitome of mischief. "After all, you know what they say; See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil... Have no fun!" Her light-hearted tone and open grin were an invitation to join in the mutual tease; they had both been guilty of that at one point in their lives, and perhaps now that they were both past it they might look back and learn from it. They might maybe even have a little fun along the way.

As Ripley crushed the plants in his large hands, Lea didn't even notice the soft, contented smile that slid onto her face. It was a look that was almost maternal, and soft; born of a genuine love for her job. Probably, under any other circumstances than the ones that had forced her so early into the role of midwife, Lea might have been content with her lot and her role in the cycle of life; helping the next generation into the world one squalling infant at a time. But as it was, being forced into it so young had robbed the girl of a chance at a normal childhood and adolescence, and she couldn't quite help but resent that a little, especially when she saw so many other girls her age so carefree and unburdened by the responsibilities that had so shaped Lea's personality. Reflecting on it, the smile faltered, and suddenly the eighteen-year-old looked far older than her years, and weary. When Ripley spoke, she looked up at him and couldn't help but think that, while it was plain that he understood her enthusiasm and love for her work, he didn't know the half of it. With any luck, he wouldn't know; nobody would. "Thank you." Lea's voice was graver than the two words warranted, before she visibly shook herself back into her smiling, happy persona, behind which she was safe. "So, City Boy." she began, shooting him a wry smile. When all was said and done, though, Lea did like talking with him. "How have the last eight years of your life been?"

[Kat]

Ripley’s mouth pulled into an amused grin, as Leannan teased him. He was in a pretty good mood, and he did not mind being teased, certainly not about a valid problem with his person. Part of his acceptance had to do with Leannan’s attitude, which seemed to be very playful and quite kind in her jokes. He could tell that she did not wish to be nasty or mean to him, which helped him accept the jokes at their word and not some hidden, passive-aggressive intention.
”I’m smart enough to understand the benefits of shelter. It’s a survival instinct.”
Ripley explained, clearly over-exaggerating his dislike for the outdoors. Reading outside was definitely not a matter of life or death, unless he managed to get a bug-born pathogen, which, in this buggy environment was not a completely impossible possibility. The thought of bugs, even in a not-so-serious manner, made Ripley swat at the air again, hoping to chase away any more parasites set on draining his blood. What horrible creatures insects were. Ripley was not exactly sure why they had to be such a bother to humans. The number of people he had treated for reactions to insect bites was unfortunately large, and with respiratory reactions, there was little that could be done.

Ripley could not help but to laugh at Leannan’s reaction, not because he was laughing at her, but because the situation was quite amusing. They had both disliked each other quite a bit and now, many years later, all the rivalry between them seemed so petty and so silly. He laughed because he empathized with her reaction, her need to express the way she felt as a child with her need to insult him. Ripley was grappling with the same delicate issue, and it was insane and amusing.
”I didn’t want to see you again, either.”
Ripley replied, the humor dripping from his tone. He felt the need to ensure that he understood how she felt, and that he was not at all insulted by her comments. His grin broadened, and his dimples became permanently fixed on his cheeks.
”You’ve barely talked to me, though; I may not have changed one bit.”
Ripley added, but he knew that he had changed dramatically, and that the change was obvious even from this interaction. Fifteen-year-old Ripley never would have given the Leannan the time of day, let alone laughed at the jokes she made at his expense.
”But I think you are much more mature. You aren’t trying to tattle on me.”
Ripley added as he raised one of his thick brows to emphasize his point.

In the pause that followed, Ripley noticed that Leannan went from smiling to a more somber expression, which in turn made his brows crinkle into an expression of mild concern, He hoped that he had not insulted Leannan in any way. He would be mortified if he had accidently upset her. He hated when he upset people, as he disliked the thought of hurting someone else, even with his words. Luckily, her positive expression returned, and so Ripley smiled himself.
”Oh, dear, do I have a new name?”
Ripley quested, even though he did not mind the name, really, as it was true and he could not deny it, especially surrounded by candidates from much less urban areas and lifestyles than himself. He seemed to be one of the most urban even, of the candidates from Sayaie, as his life had been void of the agriculture
and hunting lifestyle Pohono seemed to require. When she asked about his past eight years, he shrugged. They had gone exactly as he had expected them to go until he was searched. They followed the path of a surgeon’s apprentice perfectly. Of course, he could wax on about all the ways he had helped people, all the knowledge he had learned, but he did not have the time or the energy for that, as it would take hours.
”Bloody.”
Ripley replied, his lips twitching with his own joke, which was also very, very true.
”What about you?”
Ripley then questioned, as he his eyes sparked with amusement and interest.

[Fox]

Ripley was exaggerating, clearly, but Lea appreciated his conversation more than she would admit. The memory of the taciturn boy he had been was still clear in her mind's eye even after so many years, and she doubted that people changed that much ever. He was making an effort, perhaps because he was interested in the conversation, and she thought it was rather nice of him. Plus, he didn't seem to mind her teasing him, when before she probably would've gotten snubbed at the very least for her efforts at making light of an uneasy situation. "And yours are extremely well-honed, I imagine." The woman rolled her eyes at him, calling the bluff good-naturedly. It was understandable though; insect bites were infernally irritating, not to mention potentially dangerous. Lea had seen enough of her father's patients and helped to prepare enough vats of soothing salve that she would never dare underestimate the power of the insect. Even the smallest ones could cause severe discomfort in a human being.

She shrugged sheepishly, not at all insulted by the return comment to her own. Lea was under no illusions that she had been all that nice of a companion, after her initial, somewhat stilted, attempt to make friends had been rebuffed. Hardly surprising that he would not have wished to meet her again under any other circumstances; after all, neither of them could have known just how much the other would change in the years to come. "May not have changed?" Lea echoed, disbelief and amusement ringing in her tone. "You're talking, smiling and laughing. It's hard to believe you're the same person that I met then, frankly." And Ripley really should smile more often; he wasn't normally at all bad-looking, but when he smiled he looked warm and open and the dimples in his cheeks were truly quite cute. She leaned forward, her body language screaming mock-confidentiality. "You should smile more, even." Lea added with a grin and a wink. "It makes you look rather less like a very large statue and more like a pleasant human being." Shifting back again, her grin only grew wider at the mention of her tattling on him, even as she looked slightly sheepish. "That was once. And to be fair, you were being horrible. So far, though, you haven't given me reason to tattle, so I'll let you off the hook for now."

On a normal basis, Lea was quite an easy person to befriend. She was open and quite friendly- even if she did tend towards a penchant for making fun of others. Sometimes she did alienate other people like that, but it wasn't like she really cared too much if their skin was too thin. Therefore, it was always a pleasure to find a person who could take her teasing at face value for what it was; simply a way to try and lighten the atmosphere and make people feel more at ease. "Indeed you do!" She chirped, clapping her hands together in front of her chest. "City Boy is so much more fitting than 'Ripley', after all." The grin was replaced by a no less cheeky smile, and Lea pulled her face into an exaggeratedly smug look. A moment later, she subsided, though the gleam of mischief remained in her brown eyes. She could well understand how he might be so unused to the outdoors. Their professions were much alike, after all. Midwives and surgeons worked from their homes; they didn't need to go out into the fields every morning to till and sow and harvest. Surgeons especially had little time to be outdoors in the sunshine. At least Lea had managed to take time every day to tend to her herb garden, though that was really the extent of her outdoor exertion. Speaking of which. "Me? The same. Only with a few more bodily fluids thrown in." The young woman had long since been desensitized to so many of the topics which would render another person writhing in discomfort. It was why she rarely went into the details. But hey, Ripley was a surgeon; if he was still put off by the discussion of such a field, Lea would be very, very surprised. "I've been midwife for about three years now." She said blandly, shoulders lifting in a non-committal shrug. The look and raised eyebrow she shot him said plainly, 'And you?' without her even really having to open her mouth.

[Kat]

Ripley nodded, in a dramatic manner.
“Extremely.”
Ripley reiterated, repeating the word with a small, lopsided smirk. He was enjoying this game, in his own way, as his interactions with many of the other candidates had been limited to work or study. Part of the issue was that the candidates were kept rather busy, but Ripley himself had only made a limited effort to get to know the people around him. He had been too focused on his duties as a candidate and his former studies as a surgeon. Now, as the time continued to march steadily towards the upcoming hatching, Ripley regretted his actions, he regretted not embracing his position as a candidate and meeting more people. He supposed that when, if, he bonded to a simourv, he would have a lifetime to get to know the other candidates who would be riders, but he felt that he would never again have the chance to meet then under the pretences of being a candidate.

Ripley understood what the girl said, as even he had to admit that he was an awful adolescent. He tried not to think too much about his early years of apprenticeship, before he had been enough suffering and death to burst his overwhelming ego about his skills. The more Ripley progressed as a surgeon, the less egotistical he became. It was a byproduct of the bad side of the profession, the side filled with pain and death, that acted as a constant reminder of human imperfection, of the power of mistakes, which could become a matter of life or death. At fifteen, Ripley thought he was infallible—at twenty-three, he was well aware of his capacity to make mistakes. He, of course, tried not to make them, tried to be as perfect as possible, but he knew that he was imperfect.
”Oh, now, I did all those things at fifteen—just not in front of you.”
Ripley replied, even though he knew that he had changed dramatically since that year. He rarely smiled and laughed now, honestly, even if in his current mood he was smiling more than he usually smiled. When Leannan pointed out that his smile, Ripley paled, and unintentionally, his mouth turned into a straight frown. He was not upset, but the attention she paid to his mouth made him somewhat uncomfortable.
”I prefer to be compared to a bear.”
Ripley was still sitting, too; Leannan had yet to see him when he was standing, which was the only way to see his full size. He could not comment on his smiling; he was not sure what he could say about his facial expressions, as he barely emoted.
His elusive smile did return when Leannan commented on her tattling, mostly to show that he was not bothered by her comment.
”I only stuck my tongue out at you, and you were asking too many pesky questions.”
Ripley explained with a mock tone of insolence.
But I plan to be well behaved. I don’t want to anger a simouv.”
Ripley added with a small shrug of his shoulders. The simourvs could cause a great deal of damage, Ripley was sure. He would not want to get into trouble.

Ripley shook his head, but he kept smiling. He was not sure how he felt about his new nickname. It was fitting, absolutely, but he felt that it might become tedious quickly. He had to trust that Leannan understood when the joke was old, and when it should be retired.
”I’m actually quite fond of Ripley, myself. City Boy is a touch too long.”
Ripley replied, with another shake of his head. His eyes twinkled with subtle amusement. The surgeon listened with interest to the way Leannan described the past few years of her life with interest. Although he should know more about it, Ripley knew little about midwifery, and it interested him in the way that it was connected to his own profession. He should know more about the field, but it was traditionally women’s work, and not something a male learned. His master, though, knew far more than Ripley, possibly solely because he had been alive a long time and learned through trial.
”Midwife, huh? I don’t know much about that profession, honestly. I know that I should.”
Ripley knew a lot about the human body, and he knew the basics of reproduction and pregnancy, but it practice of birthing babies was intricate and complex. He studied her expression before he nodded his own head. He had not changed, as far as the progression o his life, since she had known him. He was an apprentice then, and he was still an apprentice.
”I am still studying under Master Donovan, but I’m very close to finishing. Or I guess I was very close to finishing until I left.”
Ripley tried not to think about the way he had left his apprenticeship. He had the chance to be a rider, and they needed someone with his skill set in the Eyrie, but a small part of him still felt that he had failed. His master had told him to go, but Ripley almost resented the fact that he may never become a true surgeon. He constantly wondered if he had made the correct choice, if he should have stayed and finished his apprenticeship, but he was here now, and he was too invested in the idea of bonding to a simourv. His plans, though, had been altered. Ripley’s life had been planned for him since he was born. He planned on being a surgeon since before he understood what that meant, and now—he would end up being something else entirely. He was struggling to adjust himself to his new situation, o at least struggling to accept that he would never reach his overall life goal anymore—because that goal was something different entirely.
”I hope I did not make a bad choice.”
Ripley admitted with a small sigh. He was suddenly reminded of why he had been reading outside in the first place, and his positive mood began to dissipate.

[Fox]

Lea felt herself roll her eyes again at Ripley's dramatic take on a truthfully normal reaction of one who wasn't all that used to the outdoors. "I see." He was entertaining, and delightfully genuine in making fun of his own shortcomings; the young woman found it to be remarkably refreshing. She was thankful that, if she had to run into him again after so long, he wasn't simply an older version of that horrible brat that he had been. Egotism wasn't at all flattering on a fifteen-year-old adolescent; even less so on a man of twenty-three. But it made sense, she figured. Medicine wasn't a forgiving profession. Inflated heads tended to suffer under the exposure to the world's woes. Lea had learned as much from helping her father out on occasion; it made her glad that she had followed her mother into her field. Being a midwife was, eight tenths of the time, a happier calling than being a surgeon; attending at births, assisting with newborns, they were so much more cheerful than stitching people up for a living. The only exceptions were when complications arose in the birth, and on those occasions the consequences hit doubly hard because you were dealing with two patients, one as yet unborn.

"Impertinent, aren't we?" Lea commented with a wry smile. With a short huff of amusement, she leaned her elbows on her drawn up knees, the curled position making her seem even smaller of frame than she actually was. Wistfully, she gazed out over the still water, imagining that it was the sea. "We've both changed, haven't we?" She blurted suddenly, her look turning thoughtful. "Eight years ago, things were so much simpler; I could dislike you as much as I wished- and you, me, of course- and that was that. Black and white. It seems so petty now that we think of it, but we were children. Now, everything is just so adult that we can't even accept the explanation that the sky is blue because it's blue. Life got complicated somewhere along the line. Don't you miss it?" Almost as if she were unaware that she had just embarked on a long, nostalgic jaunt, Lea shot a wry, weary look at Ripley, almost hoping to find some sort of understanding. This from a girl who went from child to an adult with responsibilities with almost no transition in between; sometimes it seemed much too unfair. And she didn't even know what she had missed.

Always quick to smile, the corners of Lea's mouth twitched upwards. "But it's fitting." and in her voice was a mocking note of command. Lifting one eyebrow, she mentally filed the name away in her mind, only to be used for special occasions in future if she wanted teasing material. It wouldn't be at all fun if the name got too old too fast. Making a note to remember it, Lea turned to answer Ripley's next comment. A flippant remark that would have over-simplified her practice was on the tip of the woman's tongue, but suddenly Lea found herself saying instead; "If you want, I could show you some of my books." It had been difficult to replace the books that had been in her mother's practice when the koxi attacked, but Lea had spent the better part of two years on the pet project. The most important ones; her mother's journals, had thankfully been safe, and Lea herself had added to them over the years with problems and solutions and any useful bits and bobs that she encountered. In those clothbound journals were a lot of the common- and even some of the rarer- problems encountered by women during childbirth, speculation on what caused them, and possible solutions. If Ripley wanted to learn more about midwifery, then Lea would gladly offer them up; she was not stingy when it came to sharing knowledge. "And how is Master Donovan, anyway?" she asked, a reminiscent smile breaking onto her face at the memory of Ripley's mentor, who had been a nice man as far as adults had gone the last time she'd seen him. Lea's father would surely like to hear news of him; Nathanael had held the man in high esteem when last they had spoken.

When the man in front of her grew serious, Lea found herself sympathising with him a great deal. "You didn't." She reassured gently, and if he had been a woman, and a patient of hers, she would have patted him on the shoulder to offer comfort. As it was, though, Lea didn't think that Ripley would appreciate it. "It isn't a bad thing to follow a dream, sometimes. And who could blame you? Who wouldn't look at the Riders with their simourvs, some of them younger than us, and wonder whether we couldn't be like them, have what they have." A hint of worry slid onto her face, right alongside hope and a tinge of envy. "I know I envy them. But I worry about how things are back home, too. It doesn't mean that I think I made a bad choice. Sometimes, Ripley, it isn't good to always be putting other people first. Especially for people like us." Irony tinged her last words; people who became surgeons or doctors or midwives by choice tended to all have the same problem. Patients always came before the healers themselves. Mostly, that was a good thing, but Lea could see, from experience, that sometimes no good came out of it at all. Softly, she quoted; "Who heals the healer?"

[Kat]

Ripley was not found of himself as an adolescent. At the time, he had believed he was a wonderful example of humanity, but now, separated from his younger self by the wisdom of time, Ripley knew he had been a horrible, snotty brat. Sometimes he wondered how his master put up with him at all, in those years, before he grew into himself and morphed into a significantly more tolerable creature, Furthermore, Ripley disagreed with Leannan’s explanation of childhood—or rather, he disagreed with her conclusion while he agreed with her process. Children did see the world in black and white, they did have a simplistic view of the world, but for Ripley, there was no nostalgia attached to the ignorance of childhood. He lived to expand his knowledge, to learn and comprehend and understand as much as he possibly could. He was more than inquisitive, he was obsessed with learning and growing. He liked that pat of himself that needed explanations. He liked the part of himself that was always attempting to expand his understanding of the world around him, one biological process at a time. And so, Ripley shook his head, his brown hair musing around his face to lie haphazardly in his large, brown eyes and across his forehead.
”I don’t miss it. I mean, I was so naïve, so ignorant, and I knew so little. I think I like myself far better now that I understand more. It makes me less arrogant and more rounded, I think. But them again, I was an awful child.”
Ripley replied as he shrugged his shoulders. He meant what he said, as in his case, with knowledge came growth and development. Ripley, even though he was over twenty, had not grown entirely into an adult. He was stunted by his position; he was still in school, still learning his craft, a long time after most people had to support themselves with their professions. Until he left his apprenticeship, Ripley would remain under the supervision of an elder, and so he would remain somewhere between adolescence and adulthood. But the man was growing into a good person, a decent, responsible, and caring adult, and he kept improving himself with every day. It was a good thing, too, his growth, because he had been a vile child.

Ripley’ face brightened with excitement when Leannan offered to allow Ripley to see her books. He knew so little about midwifery, and he felt that he should expand his knowledge. Ripley was uncomfortable discussing the subject, but he did not mind reading about it, because ultimately, learning about child birth would only improve his expanse of knowledge and make him a better surgeon. He might have to aid in a birth one a day. He might need to perform surgery on a pregnant woman. It would improve him.
”I would love to see your books. I’m afraid my lack of knowledge is limiting.”
Ripley replied, smiling politely, while his eyes sparkled from the excitement of the chance to learn. No one could deny Ripley’s passion for his work. Ripley did not believe in keeping his own knowledge singular. Without sharing information, the world’s ideas became stunted and stagnant.
”You are welcome to any of my materials as well.”
He replied, as he turned to look at her again. Talking about discussing surgical information, about trading medical secrets and knowledge, made Ripley think of his little sister, his little missing Amaryllis, who he had shared information with on a regular basis. Ripley loved his sister deeply, and the fact that he could find no word of her disparaged the man. The likelihood that Amaryllis still lived was very low. In the two years since her absence, Amaryllis had probably been killed by the koxi, a fact about which Ripley tried not to dwell. He felt very responsible for Amaryllis’s disappearance. The man’s face dropped into a grimace, but at the mention of his surgical master, it brightened again, became animated within seconds, and gleamed.

Master Donovan tended to have a brightening effect on everyone. He was a friendly, kind, and animated individual, who tended to spread a seemingly contagious cheer. In fact, Donovan contrasted his solemn apprentice in almost every manner. Underneath the man’s charm, was a hardened and stern individual, but few people saw that side of the man, and to most he was a pleasant and intelligent old man.
”Just as infectiously chipper as always.
Ripley replied with a small, knowing smile. Donovan and Nathanael had been friends, Ripley knew, so he imagined that as Nathanael’s daughter, Leannan would have met Ripley’s master and known the man well. Donovan made an impression, too, so as long as the girl had met the older man once, she would probably remember his temperament.

Ripley was not entirely sure what his dreams had become. He had been obsessed with his dream of becoming a surgeon. He had been determined to meet his goal, and a part of him still wanted it. The other part of it really, really wanted to become a rider, but the dream was new and alien, and it required Ripley to completely redefine himself. It was an uncomfortable redefinition, one that required him to change the way he perceived the world, and it might never be complete. Ripley worried that a part of himself would always wish he had never left his apprenticeship. The regret was almost stunting. It was awkward and unfortunate.
”I just don’t know what I want anymore.”
Ripley replied with a small shrug.
”I don’t want to always regret what I have done. But I think I want it—I mean, to be a rider. I want that companionship. I never knew I was missing it before.”
Ripley replied, and he spoke the truth. From the second he reached the Eyrie, he became enthralled with the concept of simourvs. He wanted to bond, but he also wanted to be a surgeon, and he could not have it both ways. His face turned into a small, sad smile. He watched Leannan for a small second, his eyes becoming glassy and distant.
”I’d like to think I just won’t need healing.”
Ripley explained, and he meant his words. He tried not to think about himself in a situation where he really needed tending to, because he imagined he would struggle with the dependence. He would think that he knew best, that he could fix himself far better than anyone else, and would probably become quite onery. In fact, Ripley imagined that he would be the worst kind o patient.
”It’s much easier that way.”
Ripey’s mouth twitched again, dancing into a larger smile, as he leaned back slightly and positioned his arms behind him to prop himself up off the ground. His palms touched the bare ground, and he pretended that the grainy, dirty texture did not bother him. If he tried to forget about it, perhaps he would.

[Fox]

To tell the truth, Lea wasn't all too happy with her childhood attitude either. Other children had called her bossy, and a know-it-all, and at the time she had not cared, believing them to simply be jealous. Now, though, with a few more years of experience to draw on, Lea blushed every time she thought of the irritating little girl she had been. It really wasn't all that surprising that Ripley had disliked her; it might have been that they were too similar for their own good. "I understand." She conceded, dipping her head in acknowledgement of his differing opinion. "And you were and awful child." Cue smirk. He wouldn't be living it down any time soon. "But ignorance can be bliss, sometimes. Knowing what it feels like to lose someone before their time; that I'm sure anyone could do without." The smirk slipped off her face. Too many children nowadays had lost a parent, a sibling, a friend, to the koxi attacks that so plagued their settlements. It was unsettling and heart-wrenching to see the empty grief on faces that should be young and laughing. "That, no matter what you say. I will hold to." In the glance that Lea shot him, the smile had returned, but there was a hint of steely determination in her brown eyes, saying that she would not budge on this point. Say that it made them stronger, say that it taught valuable lessons; nothing would change her mind on this. It gave strength, yes, but it was an empty type of strength, borne of desperation to survive the flood or succumb. Valuable lessons also, but again, to be taught at such a young age that life was fleeting... It was cruel, plain and simple. Life was cruel sometimes.

Lea couldn't quite help the pleasantly surprised expression that flitted across her face at Ripley's reaction to her offer. She had realised, from his attitude towards learning, that he might enjoy the offer, but the enthusiasm... threw her slightly off kilter. It didn't help that some of her own observations were in those journals she had in mind, and it made Lea a little bit self-conscious that they might be read and construed as fact. But even so, she had offered, and it wasn't as if she hadn't double- and triple-checked her facts before entering it into the precious journals. "Of course. I'll be sure to lend them to you soon." A slow smile spread across her face as he offered up his own materials. She might just make use of that too, if only to garner enough knowledge about the human body to do more than act as nurse. "I might just take you up on that. I'm afraid that a midwife is as yet not really needed in Eyrie." Lea was actually somewhat surprised- from what little she knew of the simourvs rising to mate- that there weren't more unplanned pregnancies happening. But that just meant that the female riders were more careful than a lot of her girls (she referred to her patients, especially the younger ones as 'her girls') had been.

When the young girl had met Ripley's master, she had been charmed instantly, in the way that children sometimes were. She had found it rather difficult to reconcile the kindly master to the irritable, annoying apprentice, but even then had known that that was something that could not be asked. Still, he had made quite a favourable impression, both on her and on her father. Nathanael would be pleased to hear what little he could of his old friend, and would probably find it endlessly amusing that in her candidacy, Lea had met again with Donovan's apprentice. "It's good to hear. My father will be pleased to have news of him." And of Ripley as well, though Lea wasn't about to mention it. Despite himself, Nathanael had also been quite impressed with the younger Ripley's knowledge and Donovan's vouching for him. Of course, his attitude at the time had left something to be desired, but he had been remarkably focused for a boy of fifteen.

Ah, regrets. There was a painful word. Lea didn't like to regret; it cast a veil of unhappiness over memories that would otherwise have been colourful and joyful. For a moment, her face twisted in a grimace, reminded unpleasantly of the period in her life when regrets were the only thing that seemed to exist. Even now, try as she might to push them from her mind, Lea was a worrier; she couldn't think about her life back in Itnala without worrying and feeling a tinge of regret, no matter how much she had wanted out of the dead end life. "Regrets will poison your life. Simourvs are empathic. You don't think they might be able to sense it?" She said quietly, almost without realising she had spoken. Her words held a conviction that came of experience. "You could always help in the infirmary. More practical experience wouldn't go amiss." Then, with a cheery smile that hid all traces of the introspection she was still going through, Lea levered herself to her feet, surreptitiously dusting off the seat of her pants where it had been in contact with the ground. A glance at the sky showed that she had been sitting here chatting with Ripley for longer than she had meant to; really, the midwife had only meant to sit out here for a short while to enjoy the peace and quiet. She still had things to do, books to read, chores to finish. And yet she was rather disappointed to have to end the conversation; it was incredibly refreshing to talk to someone who was knowledgeable about the field of medicine, and it had to be said that Ripley was hardly a bad conversationalist. "Well, looks like I have to be going. Time waits for no one." Lea said, raising a hand in a goodbye salute. "Thank you for the conversation; it's been more fun than I would have thought. See you around, City Boy." At the last, the girl exaggeratedly made as if to tip an invisible hat, grinning, before spinning on her heel to make the trek back to the barracks, hands in her pockets and face lifted to the air, looking as if she had not a care in the world. Leannan resolved there and then that the first thing she would do upon return would be to find those books. Because she rather hoped that she would get to speak to Ripley again; it felt nice to have something in common with someone, here in a world full of strangers. She hummed cheerfully all the way back.