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 Posted: Thu Sep 18, 2008 11:17 pm
Arbutus had come home to a mess.
This was one of the few times he'd been able to make it back from work over the last couple of busy weeks. His meager shelter was still in tatters, his little “herb garden” wasn't in the best of shape, and Locust was looking particularly chubby for a creature who'd spent the better part of a week “minding the plants”. Figures though... comparing what the poor creature's perception of “minding the plants” was with his, he should have known better then to have left the little fellow amidst temptation.
The state of things aside, Arbutus is now hard at work attempting to restore some order to his nest. Its crude lean-to like fashion is all he's ever been able to manage amidst the slender, interlocking branches of his home trees. Sure it may look a little sloppy, but the location is great!... and it's quiet. It's always quiet here.
Breathing deep of the crisp night air, he Willfully shoves a collapsed cross-branch back into place. It's nice to be home.
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Posted: Sat Sep 20, 2008 5:38 pm
Catchfly didn't like leaving his territory, particularly to visit a Sentinel he had never met before, but there wasn't much else he could do. He had heard good things from one of his regular customers about Arbutus' herbs, and had gotten directions. It was really rather nice of her, Catch reflected as he ghosted through branches, following exactly the directions he had been given. Ever now and again, he called out to ensure he wouldn't be chased, and to make sure he didn't surprise anyone. There was nothing he hated worse than being surprised.
He saw the shelter and the Sentinel working on it and took a deep breath, calling out with something close to friendly cheer. Or as close to cheer as he could manage. Landing far away, he sits quietly, sweeping his beak through his feathers with a strangely jerky, if precise, motion and then shifting to allow the mus on his back to scramble down onto the branch.
Hopefully, he hadn't interrupted anything important. It wouldn't be good if he were to upset this particular Gatherer.
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Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2008 11:25 pm
The battered nest's reassembled frame is nearing completion as Arbutus hears the distant call of greeting. “What's this now?” he mutters quietly to himself. Ruffling his feathers free of twigs and dust, he gives them a quick run through with his beak before stepping out from the jumble of branch and bark that is his home.
Returning the caller's hoot with a brisk reply in kind, Arbutus settles himself on a well worn branch of his home's many tangled limbs. From this position, Arbutus is able to see a fairly clear view of the trees surrounding him and the distant Sentinel further back. He's pretty sure he shouldn't have been expecting anyone tonight... but oversights had been known to happen, so he'd best see to what his guest has need of.
On the ground below, Arbutus can hear Locust skittering around beneath him as he wrestles with the invading weeds overgrowing the hobby plants. Arbutus can't help but chuckle. Poor little mite, he'll have to help him deal with those later.
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Posted: Wed Sep 24, 2008 7:14 pm
Giving another friendly hoot, Catchfly rouses his feathers and shakes his wings idly, giving a shallow smile. "Good evening, and good hunting," he says after a hefty pause, taking time to muster the words but letting them escape oddly rapid-fire, as if he has no control over the way they are said. And truthfully, he doesn't. Language tends to escape this particular apothecary. And that is the reason for Racket. Catchfly looks at the little mus and nudges it gently with his Will. The little yellow beastie looks at him, then back at Arbutus.
"Hellohello!" it squeaks. "Cometotrade, maybe!" it adds after a moment, and Catchfly inclines his head, signature worried expression returning to his bright teal eyes. The mus preens its whiskers and looks at Catch. He looks at Arbutus and hoots softly.
"Catchfly," he says by way of introduction. "Apothecary."
"And I Racket," the mus adds, scrambling up Catch's shoulder. "You's gatherer, aye? Customer mentioned, said good herbs from you!"
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Posted: Mon Sep 29, 2008 1:32 am
“Same to you, and welcome!” he replies as he gestures with a wing for them to approach. Arbutus pays little notice to his guest's cryptic introduction, but he's a little surprised; the visitor's companion strikes him as a bit... impertinent, for one so small. Speaking out of turn as it did, Arbutus half expects him to be chastised for it... but no matter, its master doesn't seem to mind.
“Indeed I am...” he answers, directing the response towards Catchfly. “... the name's Arbutus.” he offers cheerfully. “You say you're looking for herbs? What've you in mind? I've had a nice growth of chives here recently... got a couple shoots of late garlic too...” Arbutus pauses to allow his guest space to reply, grinning amiably.
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Posted: Tue Sep 30, 2008 1:01 pm
The herbs Arbutus offers make Catchfly tilt his head in careful consideration. For the most part, chives were not useful to him. They had a nice flavour, he supposed, but garlic bulbs had far more benefits than chives. And this Gatherer was offering garlic. And since Arbutus did something different than most Gatherers, well...it would be quite possible that this was the freshest garlic Catchfly would get. He liked garlic. It was useful for little ailments and other things. "Samples?" he asked, and then sighed slightly. He sounded so impolite.
Inclining his head, he gave another vague smile and fluffed his wings, glancing down at the mus. The little creature gave a slight nod and then looked back at Arbutus. He was trained to deal with situations like this one, certainly. "Have any garlic samples?" it asked quickly. Catchfly nodded toward the mus, making eye contact with Arbutus and indicating that it would do his business for him.
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Posted: Tue Oct 07, 2008 2:11 pm
“Garlic samples?... Mm, sure. Only fair I suppose.” Indicating for his guest to wait a moment, Arbutus quietly chuckles to himself as he drops from his perch, angling towards Locust and the little “garden”. Sampling garlic, huh? Didn't he mean, “free garlic”?... you can't exactly replant half-nibbled bulbs. Ah well, it was about time he harvested them anyhow. If this customer didn't want them in the end, Arbutus figures he could always offer them to the clan, so as not to waste them.
Further more, now that he thought about it... what exactly is it about his nature that always seems to attract the attention these unusual people? There was that cryptic masked-one a while back, and the pitch-black scout what talks to himself... and now someone so overtly nervous, he gets his mus to speak for him? Why can't he just have a “normal” conversation with- wait... Arbutus releases a low sigh as he lands nearby his chubby mus.
Shuffling over to a patch of tall stalks, he carefully digs down around one and then pulls upwards amidst a small shower of dirt. A sharp whistle brings his mus scuttling over, who then takes the offered bulb and clambers up Arbutus' back. “Mind your manners, Locust. We've guests.” he states before taking off again. Seems Locust wasn't the only one in need of reminding sometimes.
Landing a respectful distance away on his guest's perch, Arbutus lets his mus climb off his back before speaking. “Here we are, one very fresh sample.” At a nudge from Arbutus, Locust very carefully carries the relatively large bulb towards his master's guest. “Here.” the chubby creature squeaks, stretching tall to lift the heavy bulb above his head.
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Posted: Thu Oct 09, 2008 10:58 am
Watching Arbutus go about gathering up the garlic, Catchfly nods quietly to himself, inspecting the territory with a fiercely sharp eye. Not everything is as ordered as he would have expected, but the fat little mus seems well-kept, and Arbutus seems to know everything's place. Even if to Catchfly it seemed a bit disrupted, perhaps this was just the way of things. Not all Sentinels were as meticulously organized as Apothecaries had to be, after all.
Arbutus return garners a smile from Catchfly, but he returns to full business mode a moment later. Taking the bulb from the mus, he lifts it to eye-height with his Will for just a moment, before fundamentally dropping it to the branch and curling a talon around it. Leaning down (weak-Willed, Catchfly could certainly not hold something that might be a stretch for many normally-gifted Sentinels) he sniffs it and then lifts it, testing the weight. He is reluctant to break it open, but he likes what he is seeing so far.
"Good stock," he says, looking Arbutus straight in the eye and giving him a nod from one seasoned professional to another. "Very good." Shooing away Racket, who seems much more interested in the sharp-smelling bulb than any little animal should be, he clicks his beak at the mus, who inclines his head and grooms his whiskers.
"Maybe can do some trading?" Racket calls out, scampering straight up to Arbutus' talons and cocking his head at him. "Can has lots of stuffs. Medicines, lots of. Poultices for sore wings, peppermint for sore tummies!" He grins here, giving Locust a mischievous one-mus-to-another glance. Catchfly laughed softly. He had never met a mus not prone to overeating.
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