Avis closed the door behind her and, shaking off her slippers, headed immediately for her table where she'd deposited the letter before retrieving the towel. A little scowl was directed at the monstrosity of papers that greeted her anew, but that expression soon turned to a low chuckle as she sat herself and read Xavarian's writing. It was quite clearly a good substitute for his somnolent company - none of his previous letters betrayed the same scattered nature. The elaborate symbol that he'd signed the letter off with had her intrigued, and she spent a few minutes turning the paper at angles and copying it on a fresh sheet before she figured it out.
Then she reread the letter again, leisurely this time, leaning back in the flimsy-looking but otherwise sturdy chair with her bare feet on the table, soles skimming the surface of some of Jigumundo's more important documents. (If he ever knew...) His mention of the 'map' had given her an idea, too, and quickly she straightened and righted herself, pulling yet another sheet of paper from the slowly dwindling stack Xavarian had provided. Quill scratched across paper for a few excited lines before it came to an inevitable pause.
For the next few moments Avis had a lengthy mental tussle with herself. The work could not be ignored a day or two more - but another part of her persistently piped up with excuses for executing the plan. Should not one strike when the iron was hot, especially if that metal was inspiration itself? Finally, though, she steeled herself to take the (questionably) wider choice. Besides, if her instincts proved correct, she would have more than one good reason for venturing into Lower La Noscea again. She retrieved the address that the Professor had given and gave it another once-over before settling her quill, once again, to a far less exciting task.
Work first. Then play.
A full two days passed before Avis's return. She was considerably worn out by this time from solitary, lilybell-picking romps around on the La Noscean highlands - one of which had actually involved chasing down a number of crucial pages scattered by the strong sea winds. How had she allowed herself to be persuaded (by her own whimsy, no less) that completing a final report before a favored sea view, without the wonders and ingenuity of tabular support, was an intelligent decision? Well, at least that was one personal experiment ticked off the list.
After all that, there'd been the rather shocking state in which she'd found her employer when she paid his favorite establishment in the Mist a surprise visit.
So it was with a rather preoccupied air that Avis, now freshly unloaded of reports, wild flowers and gift, approached Xavarian's door. She lingered there for a few moments without doing anything at all, considering. It was afternoon. Too early for duskwight-pestering, too early for sleep - despite her tiredness. There were things to be done yet, questions to be asked. She bent and slid the three simply-folded pages under his door, and the mild worry apparent on her features sent her right back out the Inn.
She could only hope that the letter enthralled him sufficiently, that they actually posed at least a little bit of a challenge for him.Â
Then she reread the letter again, leisurely this time, leaning back in the flimsy-looking but otherwise sturdy chair with her bare feet on the table, soles skimming the surface of some of Jigumundo's more important documents. (If he ever knew...) His mention of the 'map' had given her an idea, too, and quickly she straightened and righted herself, pulling yet another sheet of paper from the slowly dwindling stack Xavarian had provided. Quill scratched across paper for a few excited lines before it came to an inevitable pause.
For the next few moments Avis had a lengthy mental tussle with herself. The work could not be ignored a day or two more - but another part of her persistently piped up with excuses for executing the plan. Should not one strike when the iron was hot, especially if that metal was inspiration itself? Finally, though, she steeled herself to take the (questionably) wider choice. Besides, if her instincts proved correct, she would have more than one good reason for venturing into Lower La Noscea again. She retrieved the address that the Professor had given and gave it another once-over before settling her quill, once again, to a far less exciting task.
Work first. Then play.
***
A full two days passed before Avis's return. She was considerably worn out by this time from solitary, lilybell-picking romps around on the La Noscean highlands - one of which had actually involved chasing down a number of crucial pages scattered by the strong sea winds. How had she allowed herself to be persuaded (by her own whimsy, no less) that completing a final report before a favored sea view, without the wonders and ingenuity of tabular support, was an intelligent decision? Well, at least that was one personal experiment ticked off the list.
After all that, there'd been the rather shocking state in which she'd found her employer when she paid his favorite establishment in the Mist a surprise visit.
So it was with a rather preoccupied air that Avis, now freshly unloaded of reports, wild flowers and gift, approached Xavarian's door. She lingered there for a few moments without doing anything at all, considering. It was afternoon. Too early for duskwight-pestering, too early for sleep - despite her tiredness. There were things to be done yet, questions to be asked. She bent and slid the three simply-folded pages under his door, and the mild worry apparent on her features sent her right back out the Inn.
She could only hope that the letter enthralled him sufficiently, that they actually posed at least a little bit of a challenge for him.Â
[sub]Avis Inkwood | Qara Qalli
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journal/tumblr[/sub]
