deercountry | Sun rises, night falls, sometimes the sky calls...

"Aside from mushrooms, not much has managed to thrive," she said. But before he could get downhearted, she held up one finger. "But. Most of these samples were from mostly before we arrived. Which was after the planting season. These seeds had already been sewn in the native soil." She pointed to a small pot of dirt from Cassandra. It was grainy, weak, and sort of gray.

A sharp contrast to the pot of rich, lush soil beside it.

She pointed to that next.

"This is the soil from my orchard. From the roots of my trees from Deerington. By all logic, none of my trees should have survived half of what Deerington threw at us. But they did. And I think it was because of magic. Magic which might be in the soil."

It didn’t solve their lack of seeds but it was something.

“So if we could find the crop seeds then you’d be able to use the soil you have here… that might work at first but we wouldn’t be able to take much before you’d need to put more soil in.”

Hm. That could be a problem long term.

“We could try hydroponics. And I know the ground in Ache and Feed is more viable. Dean Winchester grows all kinds of herbs and flowers.”

Ariadne had no idea what 'hydroponics' were.

She just smiled slightly at the mention of Dean's herbs, but said nothing. Whether he knew the nature of those herbs or not was absolutely none of her business. And since she was still a little mad at Dean, she decided to change the subject.

It was for the best.

"You should speak with Varian," she said. "He took some soil samples a few months ago, in the hopes of isolating whatever it is in my soil that's allowed the trees to thrive." He had a personal interest in the matter. Given that his partner was kind of a plant person.

But once again, that wasn't Ariadne's business to discuss. No matter how fond she was of both Varian and Fern.

“Fern, right?” He’s familiar.

“That’s a good point. I wonder if he’d be able to manifest crop seeds… is that weird?”

It feels weird. Then again, beggars can’t be choosers.

“Are you using any particular fertiliser?”

'Weird' was a word that had lost pretty much all meaning for Ariadne. And she imagined that she wasn't the only one. So all she could really do was shrug at his first question.

The second, at least, was easier.

"I've been setting up some compost," she said. "I didn't have anything when we first got here, but the orchard didn't seem to need it. I'm just sort of assuming that if I want to plant anything beyond my trees, I'm going to need it."

A pause.

"I know that some farmers use animal waste for that sort of thing. But I'm not much of a farmer. More of a gardener, if that makes sense?"

Aha, well that is a problem he can solve.

"It does. But you're in luck, because I am a farmer."

A phrase Raleigh Becket never thought he would say in his life. If you'd told home back home that he would end up farming he would have laughed you out of the damn room. And yet here he is.. and he's happy.

"We raise chickens out in Feed. I've got sacks of chicken manure, you're welcome to have some."

"If you think it would work, I'd be more than happy to give it a try," she said. She'd always admired farmers. Truly. And a part of her thought it would be a wonderful life to make. But the thing about farming was that it was a job that was somewhat repetitive in nature. Tasks followed the seasons. And the seasons cycled over and over again.

That wasn't Ariadne. Ultimately, she was too energetic. Spontaneous. Creative, perhaps. Being stuck in a routine would be confining, eventually.

Or possibly make her think a little too much of the life her parents had carved out for her.

And anyway, with so many plants, it would be hard to name and befriend all of them. Season after season.

"Is that what you did back home?" she asked. "Farming?"

See the kicker is those are all qualities you'd use to describe him, too.

In his defense he hasn't been a farmer for very long. Just since coming here and he wouldn't say he was even particularly good at it. But the hens seem happy and they're laying like they should(?), so he supposes he's doing something right. Time will tell.

Honestly, he just likes being left alone and playing with chickens while tinkering with power tools in his workshop. He's a simple man.

Raleigh snorts softly and shakes his head, shifting his weight and hip checking the table while he fishes out a few pieces of paper wrapped candy from his pocket. They old fashioned, brightly colored boiled sweets, but he thinks they're a classic for a reason and selects a blue one before offering to Ariadne. Go on, take one.

"Not at all," he chuckles.

"I was a soldier for a while and when that didn't work out I went into construction."

He isn't sure if he can count his last stint in the military. After all, it wasn't military anymore. By that point in the war it was humanity's last, desperate stand.

Edited 2022-01-16 02:01 (UTC)

She accepted the offering slowly. It smelled of sugar, which was something she found she missed. There hadn't been any in the forests of Deleo, but growing up in Valeria, she'd taken a shine to sweets. Sugar got rarer and rarer as the siege of the Red Dragon gained strength, but she'd always managed to know a few ways to sneak them.

Never this color before. She turned it over in her fingers, looking intrigued. What could possibly turn anything blue? No fruits that she could think of. Only a few sorts of flowers that, so far, she hadn't seen in Trench.

"A soldier?" she said, her eyes flicking up to him. "I'm surprised. I'd think it would make you inclined to be a hunter around here."

Raleigh chuckled and shook his head again, the candy clacking behind his teeth before he tucked it in his cheek. He's a fidgeter.

"No, I think my fighting days are over. Rode hard and put away wet."

Which was mostly true. He would fight to protect himself, his loved ones and his property, but he didn't feel the need to go out looking for trouble. Trench was full of hunters, they didn't need a busted up old has-been like him.

"I teach, though. Or I did in Deerington, there towards the end."

Rode hard and put away wet? What in the world did that mean? Had he drowned a horse or something? Horses were far from Ariadne's favorite animals, but she couldn't imagine something that awful.

It had to be a figure of speech.

She really, really hoped it was.

"Wh-what do you teach?" she asked, trying to set aside the terrible images of horses in the water.

N-no- Airy. He is the horse.

Raleigh furrowed his brow, watching her try to process something and not understanding what the confusion was.

"Self defense," he answered slowly.

"Sorry, did I say something wrong?"

"I..."

Thirty-five languages, thirty-six if you counted Elven handspeak. And she still struggled with some of the most basic sentences.

It was further proof that the universe--or multiverse--had something of a sense of humor. She could appreciate that, of course. Laughter was important. She just wished that the joke would be on someone else, every now and then.

"'Rode hard and put away wet?' Is...is that an idiom?"

"Oh- it, yeah it is."

His turn to be embarrassed. He forgot himself, sometimes. If it was any consolation Raleigh had several languages as well and yet here he still was struggling with his first.

"It means you haven't been taken care of very well."

A hard ridden horse stabled without care was left exhausted and uncomfortable, but he meant it in an even more abstract way.

"I'm a little beat up from service is what I meant."

But who liked bringing up their disabilities in a first meeting.

"Ooooh."

Her expression immediately turned to one of sympathy. Not pity, of course. Because she knew there was nothing worse in the world than being pitied. She was only sorry to hear that he felt that way.

"Well," she said, "in that case, perhaps you'd also like to sample some of the tea mixes that I've been experimenting with as well?"

Nothing like tea for a weary soul.

Raleigh perks and gives a soft, lopsided smile before nodding.

"I'd like that, thank you. Nothing with caffine, please."

He jiggles his hands to demonstrate being fill of energy, a nice way to say I'm Baby and Very Caffeine Sensitive. He's got a hard enough time sleeping as it is.

"You know.. I bet if we worked together we could start some serious agra-form here in Trench. I think we're here for the long haul and I dunno about you but I'm starting to get sick of mushrooms."

"This way."

With a nod of her head, she led him to a spiral staircase in the corner of the great room. It wound up to the second floor, which was Ariadne's apartment. A small space, with a large canopy bed on one side and a practically-untouched kitchenette on the other. In between was a low, wooden table. Surrounded by an assortment of pillows in various jewel tones. Ariadne had started decorating her home with mobiles of found objects: pieces of glass and metal and ribbon. Casting sparkling colors all over the room in the mid-day sun.

"I'm afraid," she said, walking over to the kitchenette, "that I'm not entirely sure what you mean by 'caffeine.' Is that an herb of some kind? I've never heard of it before, so I doubt think it's in any of my teas."

Raleigh follows and takes in Ariadne's personal space with the same degree of awe in which he saw her shop. It's graceful and colorful and curated whilst still being inviting and comfortable. He loves it.

"Huh? Oh- It's uh- the chemical in plants that give you energy. I don't mix well with anything that keeps you going, you know?"

"Oh, you mean like coffee?"

When she didn't know a word, it always helped if she was able to identify the idea of it. The notion. It made her feel a little less silly. She wasn't educated, but she wasn't stupid.

And there was the language barrier.

She shook her head. "Don't worry. This is the kind of tea I usually dream to calm down, not get hyped up."

He nods as she speaks- yes exactly like coffee. One cup in the morning has him wired until the next morning. He's so sensitive wah. Not to mention a downer when he is constantly refusing hospitality.

"That sounds perfect. What's in it?"

She started taking jars out of her cabinets in the little kitchen. She didn't keep much in the way of food, but herbs were an interest and a specialty. And while she couldn't cook, she certainly knew how to dry them. Unfortunately, she didn't have matching cups. So out came a short, stout blue mug, along with a high, narrow purple one, with a cracked handle.

"I'll make a blend with spearmint, lemongrass, tilia, blackberry, hawthorn, and rosebuds," she said, adding a pinch of each ingredient to each of the mugs as she spoke. "It would be better with chamomile, but I haven't been able to find much of that here. Not yet, anyway."

And even better with orange blossoms. But Trench didn't really have the climate for oranges.

She started to fill her kettle with water, before carefully lighting the stove with a long match. Ariadne hated fire. It was a necessary evil, but she always regarded it with a certain amount of wariness. And she was quick to put out the match, as soon as the stove blazed to life.

Raleigh watches with interest, taking stock of all her ingredients. It's interesting and something he's devoting himself to knowing better now that he has the time. Now that the world isn't hanging on by a thread.

"I have chamomile.. but no seeds. Can we do anything with that?"

"There's plenty you can do," she said. "But without seeds, you have to keep in mind that you'll only be able to do those things a few times, before you run out. So I would recommend saving it for the most medicinal purposes, until you can find a steady supply."

There would always be new ways to make tea.

She leaned back against the counter, gesturing to the pillows around the table. "You can sit down, if you like. I don't need to stand on formality."

Well. Technically. But he meant like.. some cool way of magically reverse engineering the plant back to a place where it could produce seeds. Maybe just a lofty dream.

"Oh- sure. Yeah. sorry. I'm used to being the one in the kitchen," he says and offers a gentle laugh before moving to do as instructed.

A beat.

"What if I fed the chamomile to Fern and he could make the plant...alive again? Is that a thing?"

She frowned thoughtfully, grabbing a rag off the counter as the kettle started to whistle. "I'm not sure if that's how it works or not," she admitted. "Fern says it's related to his moods, possibly the people around him?" She picked up the kettle, carefully pouring the boiling water into each mug. "I suppose you'd have to ask him but...it's possible."

Sometimes, it felt like anything was possible in Trench.

Which was exciting. And also a little terrifying. But mostly exciting.

Ariadne liked possibilities.

"I'm sorry, I don't have any cream or sugar," she continued. "But hopefully, this will have enough flavor." She blew out the stove, then picked up both mugs, carrying them over to the table. Raleigh got the purple one. She kept the blue for herself, folding her legs beneath her as she sat down on the other side.

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Sorry for the delay!

No worries :)

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