The Nomad's Trip to the Market

[fluffymcsnuggles]

[Refs]

Oh so he lost his clan then? Hm. She's lucky she still had her sisters at least. Well, now she doesn't since she's nowhere near them. She's fine on her own. She was being stifled at home. She needs this.

Must be hard to be the last left alive. "At least you're still alive to carry on the name right? Or whatever may be left of it." To Morgan that still has some value. Knowledge and wisdom that are passed down is something to treasure and protect even if it can get tough.

"We all have our weak points," she says with a shrug. Can't be good at everything after all. Even her. But you'd be hard-pressed to find Morgan admitting to her faults. "You can only improve with practice though. That's up to you whether or not you think it's worth it."

Morgan is dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge and that alone. She knows she has a long way to go but one day she was going to be just as strong as her mother and her sisters. "Traveling helps me learn more and practice some of what I've already learned." Still keeping it vague, damn her.

[Sparky]

[Refs]

    A grunt escaped the big man's lips in response. Not that he was attempting to dismiss her, more that he agreed but didn't really know how to respond properly to kindness. "I guess. The mask is meant as a memorial to 'em. It's called a death mask. I was taught that we wore 'em during funerals as a way of mourning, and so that the spirits wouldn't feel alone as they passed to the next life." There were a few more specifics to that, such as wearing veils or releasing birds to act as guides for the dead. But those weren't important when it came to the mask right now. 

    Locke had no idea if the stories behind the masks were true, or if they were just superstition. Magic was a powerful force in the world, and some spells directly attacked the soul. So perhaps there was a chance that there was a bit of validity to the clan's teachings. If that was true, then perhaps they were the ones mourning him now. Death masks were worn to make sure the spirits of the dead didn't feel alone when they journeyed off, but no one had been alone when they travelled that day.

    Maybe they had their own masks in the afterlife, so that Locke wouldn't feel so alone.

    Then again, if that were true, he wouldn't feel that way so often. Death was a mystery, and he didn't know if anyone aside from the gods actually knew how it worked. The big man wasn't sure if he even wanted to learn the truth behind that. The wind continued to rustle the trees up above, giving the world a quiet bit of background noise to relax to. 

    "You're not wrong..." He mused, focusing on Morgan's little snippets of advice. True, he would never get better if he didn't at least try to practice or improve. "I just wish I had some sorta teacher or whatever. Someone who could guide me a bit until I got my own footing or whatever. Y'know? Sorta like... trainin' wheels. Something to help until I'm able to ride by myself without 'em."

    Locke shrugged his shoulders, an act that looked slightly exaggerated on a guy as big as him. "Maybe I'll find someone later on down the line. For now, I know enough to manage." As long as those letters didn't get all jumbled up in his mind. When was he going to leave anyways? Sometime soon, probably. The big man was enjoying the chance to talk to someone else, but he also didn't feel comfortable sticking around in one village for too long. The wilderness felt more comfortable than towns by now. Lot quieter, more peaceful. Locke felt as though he had more control out there as well. 

    Off towards the pond, a couple water fowl fluttered down and landed on the surface. Locke watched them for a few moments, and then straightened up off the tree he'd been relaxing against. As the distance off it grew, the metal fragments collected and began to reform, only to be stopped half-way. Still halted by the tree. 

[fluffymcsnuggles]

[Refs]

Hm. A mask to wear for the dead? Normally in that sort of tradition, a mask is used to scare off or trick the dead. Maybe she'll have to do more research on this clan, if there is anything to find that is. Libraries only hold so much knowledge after all. Besides, it is usually more powerful and impactful to learn directly from the source of knowledge than a book. But sometimes a book is the last thing you have...

"That's interesting. I've never been to a funeral," she admits. She hasn't been to many celebrations. Save for the holidays she and her sisters celebrated together and birthdays. No weddings or funerals, there was no need. Her sisters would run off and go while she was stuck at home. Those stories always made her envious as a child.

She nearly snorts at his excuses. "If you understand any letters at all you don't need a teacher. You need a dictionary. Reading is the best way to practice that muscle and it's fine to make mistakes or not fully get what you're reading yet. That's what re-reading is for." To her, this is all seemingly obvious. But she has yet to comprehend people may not have the same education as her. Which was extensive but frankly unusual. Morgan could offer to teach him, but she knew she would be an awful teacher. She hasn't got the patience for that sort of a task.

Morgan watches the waterfowl float down to the surface of the pond. She lets her gaze get lost and wander their natural surroundings. Funny how someone so full of rage and passion can also find moments that are equally tranquil and calm.

[Sparky]

[Refs]

    Interesting. He'd never heard anyone call a funeral "Interesting." It rang hollow inside his chest, like a dull pang. Having to burry all his loved ones, the people the young man knew growing up. Family. Friends. Mentors. Never at any point during the process would Locke have ever called the situation Interesting. 

    "It's not... and you're lucky you haven't." There was only one time the nomad remembered going to a funeral before that day. It'd been the death of his nana. She had looked so peaceful surrounded by flowers in her coffin. Locke remembered thinking then that it looked comfortable. Like she was sleeping. The big man remembered watching them close up the coffin for the last time and asking his mother when he would see her again. "Some day." had been the answer. 

    Grief over what happened hung over his head for as long as the man remembered. Thinking about it, he didn't know if he knew anything aside from Grief and Anger. That was just his personality now. If there was anything more to the guy, then Locke really didn't know what that was. Who he was now had been shaped by loss. He didn't know how to read because no one was around anymore to teach him. He didn't know how to properly interact with people because he was by himself for years. And he was so, so damn angry and bitter over everything. 

    Locke shook his head out. Pulled himself out of those thoughts. Morgan didn't mean anything by her comments, she was just a socially awkward bean. Just like him, but baby mode. Well, maybe not age baby but... you know what this is getting out of hand. To summarize, Morgan is SMALL and ADORABLE and is BABY without actually being a baby. Just tiny.

    Of course if the big man were to say that out loud he was going to probably have a nice new hole where his throat once was. And while the free operation sounds like a nice idea, the guy also prefers his throat with no holes in it. So he was keeping his mouth shut. 

    "Mmm. I guess you're right. It's just a pain in the ass not knowing what's going on when I'm trying to teach myself. I don't even know how to say words like Boo... Buh...bub-on-ice. Bubonis...? Bubonis Pl...plah... plaaah-g...g-you...." It was obvious the young man was taking the phrase 'Sound it out' to heart as he tried piecing "Bubonic Plague" together in his head. "Buh...bon...is... plah...gyou.... Buhbonis plahgyou. That. I don't know what that word means, I don't know if I'm saying it right, I'm not even sure what evil prick came up with it. I just know that some weird mage was carrying a rolled up piece of paper with that on it." 

    His brows furrowed behind the metal mask. "There's more that I don't know either, and then sometimes I'll be reading a word and letters will be all jumbled up in my brain. You know? You probably don't know." With an exasperated huff, the nomad threw his hands up. "I shouldn't be saying this stuff to you anyways, it's weird and unnecessary. Hmph... sorry..." 

[fluffymcsnuggles]

[Refs]

"I guess so. I was always told that even if a person is gone, the love they had for us is still there..." She murmurs, though it tastes bitter on her tongue to say. It's the only comfort she has, the only way she can hope to feel the love of a mother she never really knew. Ironic that her birthday is also her mother's funeral.

It's not like her sisters hadn't been to funerals. They had gone to plenty of those. Though neither of them seemed terribly sad about it. Well, Morgan could always hear Gwen cry somewhere but Joan seemed to roll with the punches as always.

"...Bubonic Plague?" She said with a raised brow. Yeah wow, that was a fucking disaster. There is a tiny snicker that slips from her lips for a moment but she maintains her facade. "It's just a word for a disease. That must have been a medicine person more likely- or historian who knows." All sorts have similar information, even if it didn't make sense sometimes.

She gives a shrug as he begins to back peddle and drop the subject. "It's fine. Reading can be difficult. I'm sure I haven't seen or understood every word out there," she says trying to sound somewhat comforting. But all she did in her spare time was read so... She just simply cannot relate.

[Sparky]

[Refs]

    With a hefty grunt, the big man waved off her counter towards the plague man. "Nah, there was a bounty on his head, guy kidnapped and used a bunch of villagers to test out disease magic. I don't really know the specifics too well, and I couldn't exactly get any answers from a crushed head. Buuut, he had papers on him and even though I have no clue how to understand 'boobonic playg,' the people who it matters to probably could." 

    While it wasn't by much, Morgan's words did help ease his thoughts a bit. The idea of his clans love still reaching him was a bittersweet one, but he liked the idea of his mother and father's love still being there. Maybe, in an abstract sense, it was the lessons they passed onto him. Their teachings and their advice. That thought actually got the young nomad to smile. Added bonus was that Morgan wasn't even trying to make him feel better too!

    Happy little accidents. 

    "Y'know, you're not bad." The woman likely wasn't a saint, and there was probably things about her that made her genuinely terrifying, but so far, she wasn't bad. Locke took another sip out of his canteen and pocketed it again. "I hope whatever adventures you have while you're on the road are good ones, and you find a bunch of historical shit. You know, for all your studies and stuff. And thanks for like, being cool and shit."

    It sounded a lot like the was getting ready to leave. Truthfully, he didn't know. Part of him wanted to hit the trail again while the sun was still high. Save daylight. At the same time he wasn't in a rush to go anywhere, and Morgan was kinda nice to talk to. Well, when there was something to talk about it. The two of them both seemed to be pretty bad when it came to actually talking about stuff. For a fleeting moment, the big man considered inviting Morgan to join him on his path across Avalon. 

    That thought didn't remain for long. She may very well have been an adult, but his path wasn't a clean one. There was a purpose for his pilgrimage and it was one that was covered in blood. With how nice the girl had been to the nomad thus far, Locke found himself not wanting to get her mixed up in that sort of anger. 

    Stretching out, the metal mage climbed back up to his feet. The spires that floated on his back fully reformed, their appearance only slightly different from how they had been moments prior. Simply a byproduct of the reforming process. Locke quietly extended a hand out towards Morgan. An offer to help the girl back to her own feet. When he first entered the village, the young man had never anticipated running into someone he'd enjoy talking to. Looking back, him turning around to catch her was a stroke of luck in its own way. 

[fluffymcsnuggles]

[Refs]

"Oh a plague mage. Huh... never heard of that before. Well-" Joan has used some nasty diseases for curses. That woman has no issue torturing people it's scary. Morgan's just lucky Joan cares about her. Her eyes widen with interest slightly at the mention of a crushed skull. OH? An interest in the macabre? Unsurprising considering who raised her.

She blinks in shock at his sudden sorta compliment. She's not bad? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Did he think she was bad? What made her bad? Bitch. She has an expression that quickly flashes between confused, angry, and processing. It all fades away though when he thanks her.

"I...uh..." she looks away now over the edge of the pond. "Thank you I guess and you're welcome?" It seems like she's not used to receiving praise. Her sisters weren't exactly the kind of people to dole out compliments. Not like Morgan did anything to get them anyways.

Her gaze flicks back to him when he offers out his large hand. She reaches up and takes it into her own. She is reminded just how small she is and she does not look pleased. She pulls herself to her feet and lets go, dusting off the grass and dirt from her skirt.

[Sparky]

[Refs]

   The look of interest that crossed over her face at the mention of a crushed skull was more than a bit concerning. But if she was interested, who was he to judge? Locke shrugged his shoulders a bit and began to speak again. "It's... kinda easy for me, honestly." Locke lifted his right arm as he spoke. Cracking sounds filled the air around them as metal seemed to burst from his skin, gathering and condensing until the shape of a massive metal fist smoothed itself out over his arm. To emphasize it a bit further, Locke flexed the metal fingers in a squeezing motion. But enough demonstrating. The metal cracked and crumbled away, instead collecting into an orbit around the mage. 

    It didn't surprise the big nomad how light Morgan was. The girl was practically a toy with how short and light she was. But, he was slightly surprised to see a displeased look on her face from being helped up. That left Locke wondering if he'd unintentionally done something wrong, or if doing so was somehow a sleight against her. Almost instinctively, the big man backed up and lifted his hands, palms facing the young woman. 

    "Sorry, didn't mean to offend." Now he felt a bit bad. And awkward. Mostly awkward. This was probably his cue to start making an exit, lest he start upsetting Morgan even further. Clearing his throat, the nomad rubbed at the back of his neck. "Right so... I guess like, unless you have something else in mind that you might need me for, I think I'm gonna start making my way towards... wherever I'm headed next." 

    The hand left his neck and instead rubbed at his chin. "Gotta have to find a bounty or somethin to give me my next goal." Or maybe he'll just go back into the woods and figure it out when he figures it out. Escort missions were good for getting a free meal and an easy destination though, as previously discussed. So it was obvious where Locke's preferences laid. 

    Seeing the big, scary looking giant look so nervous and awkward never stopped being a strange sight. And while yes, he is limited to being on good behavior in the village, and being nice to a small bean, something more angry was more fitting. Maybe if Morgan had been more rude, or less adorable and intimidating. Or maybe if Locke wasn't terrified of the opposite gender and small, angry, cute things. 

    You know, come to think of it, Morgan had a lot of things working to her advantage against him.

    All that aside, Locke had no idea how to actually end the interaction. If Morgan wanted to keep him around for a bit he wouldn't complain too much. More people to talk to. However, he didn't bank on those sorts of things. Instead, he shifted his weight from side to side for a moment, and let out a small sigh. "Right. It was... nice getting someone to talk to like this. And I hope our paths meet again in the future. Thanks. I'll see you around?"

[fluffymcsnuggles]

[Refs]

She sat up excitedly as he began to display his magic before her. She's never seen anything like it. Far different from her sister's and their schools of magic and techniques. "..Woah..." she whispers in awe. "How'd you learn that? Is it a thing your clan taught you?" There is a clear thirst for knowledge in her eyes as she asks the question. One thing that will never fail to get Morgan excited is magic and the promise of knowledge.

She raises a brow at his apology and shrugs. "Um... it's ok? You didn't offend I just-" she lets out a sigh and looks away. Her cheeks flushing slightly and her eyes narrow into a glare as she speaks once more. "I realize I'm very small and the world is big..." she admits, her fist clenching as she does.

"I mean- you could point the nearest inn out to me. Or lead me to one.
I could go camping again but," she shakes her head. "I just don't want to if I can sleep with a roof over my head you know?" Internally she debates offering him a room. He too was a wanderer after all. She wasn't sure how well he would take the offer though.

She gives a small awkward nod at the farewell. ...Right! Uh... see you then?" She's never really had to goodbye to a stranger or anyone that wasn't her sisters. This feels weird. She's not gonna hug him though, that seems a little too far.

[Sparky]

    

[Refs]

    There was a pause before Locke left. Instead, he seemed to mull over her question. It would be rude of him just to leave her behind and not at least take Morgan somewhere she could rest her head at night. What kind of person would he be then? Besides, it looked like she still had more questions for him too. As long as the young woman wasn't actually mad at him, then... yeah he could stick around for a little bit longer. 

    "C'mon, before I go I'll take you back to an inn I spotted." It was genuinely adorable seeing Morgan get all flustered about being small. Locke wasn't going to say that shit out loud, but it was still really cute. Her being all "angery" about it honestly only made it come off like that way more. "Like you said, you'd rather have a roof over your head than camp out. Right?" 

    Contradicting that flustered little glare he'd gotten, Locke instead quietly returned it with a smile. Only the second time this entire outing the big man actually cracked one. While it was something that should have felt warm, there was also a sense of something... lacking. Missing from the equation. It felt as though the nomad was sincerely trying, but it was only half-hearted. Difficult to show. 

    "Anyways..." Locke shrugged and turned, waiting to see if Morgan was going to follow again. The girl was welcome to walk beside him so she didn't have to talk to his back, but he had a feeling she was just going to use him like a social snow-plow again. Which was equally fine. "...the special type of metal magic was passed down through the generations of my clan. It's something we're innately born attuned to, but mastering it is a completely different beast altogether. It takes years of practice from the moment we take our first steps. Starting small with little chunks of metal, then slowly manipulating the world and our own bodies to create it from ourselves.

    Then it's all working backwards, strengthening our own bodies and minds through meditation, until we can manipulate metal at a near constant state." Locke jerked his thumb back towards the metal spires that floated off his back. "The way the spires form are an expression of the mages own strength of will. The size, number, and refinement all show a mage's strength, skill, and control. In that order." Two large, well refined spires, with two smaller, spires below. In common terms, Locke would be considered at the level of an Arch-mage just from power and elemental affinity alone. Not the strongest around, but still powerful enough to give most anyone a run for their money. 

    "Legends said the pro-jen-aytor of our clan, and my great, great, great, great, etc. grandma was one of the greatest. She could encase herself in armor made from her own body, and so the story goes, many people even confused her for a metal golem or other constructs. The spires that came from her body were like smooth spines, and nearly a dozen ran up her spine. She wasn't a warmonger, though. The teachings that she passed down through our bloodline told us to respect the world around us and to act as shields for those who needed it." Locke stopped and worked his jaw a bit, a flush of anger running up his spine. They were a peaceful clan, they minded their own business, didn't bother anyone. 

    And they got exterminated for it. 

    "Anyways... that's all there is to that." Locke quietly muttered. "The inn should be somewhere around here... come on."

[fluffymcsnuggles]

[Refs]

Morgan nods along and begins to follow after him. As predicted she continues to use him as a barrier from all the other people. She's gotta take advantage of it while she can. "Right. I could pay one for you too if you wanted," she said, trying to act casual about it. She had the cash to spare. Still, a part of her was telling her not to go crazy spending it. What's wrong with a little bit of polite generosity? Gwen would have done it. Ugh, why is she thinking about her?

She listened quietly to his explanation. Leaning on every word. She notes that she'll have to write it down in her grimoire somewhere. Something to try and look into herself perhaps. It was certainly worth learning about other affinities, even if she had no control over them.

She looks over his spires and nods seemingly impressed by his strength and skill. Of course, there could be more of those but she doubted a bunch of big metal pillars everywhere would be practical for moving about. She lets out a low whistle upon hearing his lineage's impressive feats and smiled softly at their compassion.

"Those are some pretty amazing skills. Glad they're not totally lost to time just yet," she says. Though it made her wonder how much magic was created and ultimately lost due to the needless deaths of others. Perhaps jealousy and fear were driving factors.

[Sparky]

[Refs]

    Locke paused at her offer. Hesitated. The nomad looked back over his shoulder towards the girl and seemed to chew on her suggestion for a time. He wasn't versed in the subtleties of interacting with people, or with friend making, but the fact that she was offering something like that was weird to him. She knew he was fairly comfortable outside, so it wasn't some sort of attempt at charity. Right? Maybe it was a friendly gesture of 'hey, stick around for a bit and let's hang out and be friends' or something. That was probably too hopeful.

    It would be rude to turn her down, though. 

    "Uh... sure... I mean, yeah I guess I wouldn't mind that?" Clearing his throat, the nomad shrugged again and continued on, paving the way through the crowd. That was... really odd and out of nowhere. But also, everything with Morgan had been really odd and out of nowhere so this was like... the norm? At least for her, that is. Gods, maybe Morgan was just as awkward as Locke was? Maybe she too was bad at being around people?

    Fuck, that would be nice. Lot easier to deal with someone who had similar circumstances than actually being around someone who thought they were perfection incarnate. Not that she thought of herself like that. Or. Hm. Well? Okay maybe that last part was up in the air, the puzzle solving process was still being worked on here. They weren't too far from the inn now, soon enough he wouldn't have to think too hard on all this weird enigma of a girl. Though saying that considered she wouldn't somehow linger in Locke's thoughts, filling his nightmares with her terrifying yet tiny presence. 

    Why was it that the small ones were always the ones filled with such rage?

    "It's... nice that you think of me that way." The nomad replied, changing the line of thinking away from potential nightmares. He worked his jaw for a few moments before continuing. "I... well, my end goal or... rather if I somehow live past my current goals and meet someone I can find peace with..." Locke sighed as he tried to reorganize the thoughts bouncing around his skull "...I suppose I'd like to, no, I dream of being able to rebuild my clan. Start with my own family, carry on the bloodline. Try to teach the same things my great whatever grandma founded our clan upon. Defending those who need it to, being proud of yourself, being at peace with the world and all that jazz. I know..." 

    The man's breath hitched slightly, but after recollecting himself, he continued again. "I know that a lot of the... books and papers and all that are still in the clan archive. Sealed away, guarded, protected. So, I could... hopefully gather those, start again. Before everything, I had a good childhood. I was loved, cared for. I want that for any kids I may or may not have in the future. Weird shit, I guess, but I don't want my bloodline to die with me." 

    "I'm all that's left of them. Their memories, their teachings, their love. If I die without passing that on, without carrying on that torch then... we all die forgotten. A-and..." The big man wavered visibly. There was a shake in his shoulders, but it was quickly fought back down. "...And that scares me. It makes me... sad. And heartbroken too. But mostly just scared... I don't want to be forgotten- no, no that's not right."

    Locke sucked in a deep breath, clenched his fists and grit his jaw. The shake was back now, but this time it had a different feeling to it. Slowly the skull faced man shook his head. Side to side. Side to side. Side to Side. "That's not right at all. Being forgotten is one thing, but I don't want everything my clan built, everything we worked towards, I don't want us to be remembered as monsters. Bandits culled by some fucking heroes."

    His shoulder's heaved, metal fragments cracked and splintered from his arms. Big hands hung at his side, white knuckled and dug into his palms. His breath came out heavy, labored. "Some proud pieces of shit who didn't even think to check if they were in the right location for their shitty fucking bounty." Passerby's spotted the big man, and began giving more space. Where as before it was hesitation, now there was genuine concern. Fear. Locke hated it. "I can't let them be the ones to rewrite our history. I refuse." 
    
    Squeezing his eyes shut, the nomad continued to shake. Slowly the anger died away. Mixed with fear, with anxiety. Then finally emptied out into a dull emptiness. And a realization of what he'd just said. How much he'd not just shared, but overshared. The metal fragments chipped away and crumbled as Locke looked around wildly, then back to Morgan. "I-I apologize. I said too much. I should... uhm... I should go, shouldn't I? I should go." 

[fluffymcsnuggles]

[Refs]

"It's just an offer. You don't HAVE to," she says crossing her arms. He doesn't seem the type to want to be at an inn anyways. Geez. She lets out a small huff and mentally counts out the money she had. The inn, not better be overpriced. Then again, Morgan has no concept of what a regularly priced item is. In fact, she doesn't even realize that she's technically considered wealthy. Technically. It's her sisters' money after all not hers.

She had to admit she found the Nomad curious. Mostly for his mask and magical abilities. What happened to his clan was a tragedy, but not like she could do anything about it but feel a little bad. No one really wants pity when they talk about the dead. Least of all her.

Morgan began to listen quietly as Locke spoke. And kept speaking. And kept going. Wow ok, he sure is talking a lot. She attempts to try and take in what he is saying. There's a lot to unpack there and Morgan isn't sure if she wants to open up that box. She is not a person to go to for sympathy she's really awkward about it. The one time Gwen lost a partner- those were some rough days. All she could do was try and take care of the household chores while her sister was in her feelings about the loss. Words of sympathy just aren't her strong suit. To her actions always speak louder than words and she's already pretty fucking loud.

The emotions he wore displayed seemed like just the cracks under the surface. Revealing the boiling magma of rage that lurks just below. At least Morgan doesn't hide that she's angry all the fucking time. For good reason? Eh, not really.

When he began to stutter and backtrack. Morgan held back a smirk. Clearly, he was panicking from saying too much. It was nice to know he was somehow comfortable enough around her to say all that. But why was he comfortable enough around her to say all that? Seriously? Her of all people... Guess confessions to strangers are fun. Not to her though. She can't risk a stranger running their tongue off. Especially with her sisters' on her trail. Especially with JOAN. ...She begins to feel sorry for any poor bastard that's going to come across Joan.

That says a lot.

She gives a shrug at his suggestion to leave. "Only if you want to.  I'm not going to stop you either way," she replies. She looks unbothered by his info-dumping. "Though if there is a vault filled with your people's teachings, maybe a good way to learn reading would be through that. Kill two birds with one stone. Just a thought though." She learned reading by taking her mother and sisters' grimoires. Well- not Joan's. Joan had a good reason not to give her grimoire to Morgan. Her magic was not appropriate for her age at the time. Now though she definitely could. But should she? Probably not.

[Sparky]

[Refs]

    She wasn't... mad? More than that, she actually seems... amused? Or if not amused, then at least greatly unbothered. Locke studied Morgan with those amber eyes, trying his best to get a read on her in any way he could. The big man hesitated and rubbed the back of his neck, head tilting away from the girl as he thought it all over. 

    "...Alright then." He muttered after a lengthy pause. Confusing as she was, nervous as he may be, it didn't seem like he needed to leave. So... at least he had that going for him. Clearing his throat, the nomad continued. "Ehm, I am sorry. I didn't really mean to dump all of that, that's really abnormal for me. I guess it was all just... bottled up for a bit too long and finally the cork popped or somethin'..." 

    Silence dragged on as the young man clearly fought to find his own mental footing again. This clearly was not an easy task for him. Eventually, however, he managed to sort some small piece out inside. "With the vault, I... I don't know the exact location of it. Or how to even get in, I was never taught that. But I guess, in the end, the only way to figure it out is to... well... figure it out?" Locke shrugged "One day, when I finally find a place to settle down again."

    "P-probably should stop with this sappy bullshit, so c'mon. The inn is close." Locke's current honesty, truthfully, wasn't a normal thing. It wasn't that he was just miraculously comfortable around Morgan, it wasn't that there was even anything special about her aside from the fact that she was in the right place at the right time. Confessions were not fun, they were not easy, and the big man hadn't even intended on letting slip everything he'd bottled up and sealed away for the past decade or so. Maybe he was desperate for a friend. Maybe he was desperate for interaction. Maybe it really was just too much for the bottle to take and something finally popped the cork. 

    Locke wasn't smart enough to figure that out on his own. 

    Instead he quieted himself and went back to what Morgan needed him to do; Look intimidating as he pushed a path towards the local inn. Less time spent running his mouth. Probably better for both of them. Not just to save Morgan from things getting overwhelmingly awkward, but also just to save the poor Nomad's sanity. And try to salvage some semblance of an image. The whole gentle giant thing was not meant to be what he was going for, but this whole day was a really bad indicator of that. 

     By the time they reached the inn, however, Locke was back on track to salvage his original image. At least until the people he pushed through saw the tiny girl marching proudly behind him. Even if people still looked at him with fear, there was a curiosity among the gazes now. 

    "Here we are." His hand extended towards the Inn, The Lazy Cheetah. The building was just as quaint as all the others in the village. Nothing really stood out or set it apart aside from the slightly larger size. It's sign had a sleeping cheetah with a mug of some sort of foamy drink in an outstretched paw. Locke looked back to Morgan and jerked his head towards the door. "After you?" 

[fluffymcsnuggles]

[Refs]

Once again she shrugs. She's not going to question why he said all that. "It's fine. Your secrets are safe with me. I don't have anyone to tell them to," she said. Morgan isn't a snitch. Both of her sisters taught her the value of holding her tongue and keeping a secret. Secrets are usually there to keep people safe, as annoying as that is. The secrets could be annoying sometimes, like Morgan's inability to leave the manor ground she grew up on. It was for safety but they never dared to explain what the manor kept them safe from.

Why is she even thinking about that right now? She can only nod along to his words. Unsure of what else she could say or really add to the conversation. "You probably will one day." Well- so long as he doesn't die before then. A bit morbid already thinking about the death of an acquaintance. Considering what he does for a living, death was always near so... Ok she's going to stop thinking about this.

She looks around the village and notices some people in the crowd are taking notice of the pair. On occasion, if a gaze seems a bit TOO curious she'll send an icy glare their way. It very much gives rich kids with intimidating bodyguard vibes. A bit more of a reasonable sight that some small young woman following after this towering intimidating figure.

Morgan looks at his outstretched arm and nods. Great, she's gonna have to talk to the innkeeper and give a fake name. She'll just give herself the name of a flower or something. Her name being on an actual record might be a bad idea. She walks inside and looks around the quaint little in.

"Hello, how much for two rooms for the night?" Morgan asks, her voice saccharine-sweet- unlike her normal speaking manner. She knows when she needs to play up the cute innocent lone young woman act. It helps others underestimate her which is an extremely dangerous thing to do.