Before the caravan party had reached Black Brush Station, X'ache had given Tobias a quizzical glance after the Miqo'te had caught scent of the lavender coming from the Midlander. If the glance was noticed, it was left unchecked as Tobias continues to fiddle with the few stray strands that plagues him, trying in vain to manage the unruly mane.
       As much as he might have wanted to meet with Kiearia's outlook, the irritation of his hair that flutters about toils him. It was Kiearia's sneeze that brought his attention back to his surroundings and to stop fussing with his head. However, by the time he gives up on taming his hair and glances at her, the Miqo'te female would have already engaged in a conversation with the other woman. The black leather gloved hands slips back onto his lap as he catches bits and pieces of the small-talk amongst the women, decidedly staying voiceless as most of the other men did....
       Closed eyes slowly open as his body sways but a little from the sudden halt of the cart, then peers down quickly under the spot Kieaira sits. If Tobias had fallen asleep or not was anyone's guess, but now he begins to rummage through the various pouches strapped to him after the driver headed off.
"Oi, hurry up with the stuff! Again I do most of the haulin'! I only asked for bit of help if any felt to volunteer and get us on our merry faster, but you! I at least get to boss you around for the time bein'!" the driver calls out after he grabs one of the three remaining crates.
"Of course." was murmured from Tobias as he continues to search for something in one of his pouches.
"And don' drop anything!"
"I will do my best."
"Oi! Make sure you grab the right crates too!"
"...I will do my be-" his gritted response cut off similar to the first time the two men had a chit-chat.
"Don't be gettin' anything wet neither!"
"By the Twelves man, I am dry!"
"Well then hurry up! And why the Seven Hells does it smell like lavender in there?!" Blondie-Blue Eyes says over his shoulder as he already was making his way towards the merchant again.
"Errrgh..." Tobias squeezes his eyes shut and rubs at his brows before he finishes searching through the pouches.
       If he found what he was looking for would again be anyone's guess as he produces a small, thin vial from one of the belt pouches. It's contents were mostly vacant, save for but a little bit of liquid. "Oh..." he utters under his breath with a surprised expression. Tobias puts two and two together and stifles a laugh before he looks over at Kiearia. If the Miqo'te woman looks over to the Hyur with the midnight-hair, she would see the vial cradled between two slender fingers and lips mouthing out a silent 'Sorry' before a smile appears with a shred of embarrassment on unblemished features.
       Lorielle. The Elezen woman with the brown braided halo on her crown and lovely mixed eyes was cast another glance from the Hyur after he looks away from the woman Miqo'te. He recalls the two having just a smidge longer of wordless exchanges when their gazes first touch; she did not look away from him nor he from her until that miniscule jump she did tears her look apart. Silent communication between the two would again be his choice. This time, however, it was not with downcast eyes as Tobias looks to her squarely, an ease about his expression, though genial still yet to be determined.
       Whatever the case may be for his silence, the Hyur brings his legs up and closer to his chest as he leans backwards against the edge of the caravan until he rolls himself backwards in exit. He made sure to keep himself tucked and tight as to not accidentally kick Kiearia as he rolls out of the wagon. Deft in movement and landing, Tobias strolls casually to the opening of the wagon where there were two more crates to haul. He slips another nod of his head to Seeker Daca'li as he approaches the Miqo'te and grabs one of the crates. Two down, one to go.
       Fortunately for Tobias, he was dressed more appropriately for the terrain than in comparison to the Elezen lady at the very least. The heaviest burden was the tight fitting thigh-high black leather boots, though effectively keeping any sand from invading his feet or legs due to his short white breeches, hardly breaking a sweat from the sun.
       As much as he might have wanted to meet with Kiearia's outlook, the irritation of his hair that flutters about toils him. It was Kiearia's sneeze that brought his attention back to his surroundings and to stop fussing with his head. However, by the time he gives up on taming his hair and glances at her, the Miqo'te female would have already engaged in a conversation with the other woman. The black leather gloved hands slips back onto his lap as he catches bits and pieces of the small-talk amongst the women, decidedly staying voiceless as most of the other men did....
       Closed eyes slowly open as his body sways but a little from the sudden halt of the cart, then peers down quickly under the spot Kieaira sits. If Tobias had fallen asleep or not was anyone's guess, but now he begins to rummage through the various pouches strapped to him after the driver headed off.
"Oi, hurry up with the stuff! Again I do most of the haulin'! I only asked for bit of help if any felt to volunteer and get us on our merry faster, but you! I at least get to boss you around for the time bein'!" the driver calls out after he grabs one of the three remaining crates.
"Of course." was murmured from Tobias as he continues to search for something in one of his pouches.
"And don' drop anything!"
"I will do my best."
"Oi! Make sure you grab the right crates too!"
"...I will do my be-" his gritted response cut off similar to the first time the two men had a chit-chat.
"Don't be gettin' anything wet neither!"
"By the Twelves man, I am dry!"
"Well then hurry up! And why the Seven Hells does it smell like lavender in there?!" Blondie-Blue Eyes says over his shoulder as he already was making his way towards the merchant again.
"Errrgh..." Tobias squeezes his eyes shut and rubs at his brows before he finishes searching through the pouches.
       If he found what he was looking for would again be anyone's guess as he produces a small, thin vial from one of the belt pouches. It's contents were mostly vacant, save for but a little bit of liquid. "Oh..." he utters under his breath with a surprised expression. Tobias puts two and two together and stifles a laugh before he looks over at Kiearia. If the Miqo'te woman looks over to the Hyur with the midnight-hair, she would see the vial cradled between two slender fingers and lips mouthing out a silent 'Sorry' before a smile appears with a shred of embarrassment on unblemished features.
       Lorielle. The Elezen woman with the brown braided halo on her crown and lovely mixed eyes was cast another glance from the Hyur after he looks away from the woman Miqo'te. He recalls the two having just a smidge longer of wordless exchanges when their gazes first touch; she did not look away from him nor he from her until that miniscule jump she did tears her look apart. Silent communication between the two would again be his choice. This time, however, it was not with downcast eyes as Tobias looks to her squarely, an ease about his expression, though genial still yet to be determined.
       Whatever the case may be for his silence, the Hyur brings his legs up and closer to his chest as he leans backwards against the edge of the caravan until he rolls himself backwards in exit. He made sure to keep himself tucked and tight as to not accidentally kick Kiearia as he rolls out of the wagon. Deft in movement and landing, Tobias strolls casually to the opening of the wagon where there were two more crates to haul. He slips another nod of his head to Seeker Daca'li as he approaches the Miqo'te and grabs one of the crates. Two down, one to go.
       Fortunately for Tobias, he was dressed more appropriately for the terrain than in comparison to the Elezen lady at the very least. The heaviest burden was the tight fitting thigh-high black leather boots, though effectively keeping any sand from invading his feet or legs due to his short white breeches, hardly breaking a sweat from the sun.
