“We’ll have to see if we can’t make it to the first little town on the map before dark hum?” He smiled, again having corralled her on his shoulder they started off once more. The reached the base of the stairs, Path of a Hundred Stairs. Mosur looked up the path then to the girl on his shoulder.
“Why’d we stop old man? Getting tired?”
Moe’s face twitched a little, “no…It’s just getting dark, not that you could tell.” He fired back becoming a little more comfortable with her humor.
“Oh getting dark? You’re not going to let that hold you back are you? Never held me back before..are you afraid of the dark or something?” She smiled wider with each sentence she spoke prodding at him.
“No,” he commented bending a little and setting her down from his shoulder. It was a little sore unused to the extra load and he rolled it back stretching and relaxing it a little. “No, I’m not but I don’t know what all hides in the dark in this new land. Besides you did want something to eat before bed eh?” He let down the pack of goods he’d picked up in town and shuffled through them. “Here go see if you can’t see about getting the tent set up while I work on making something to eat hum?”
“Hey!” She started having a small bag thrust into her hands.
“You can do it.” He grinned and set about making the fire. Actually he would be surprised if she could, but if she didn’t get any of it done it wouldn’t bother him any.
She was half looking his way with a frown, fine she’d show him then. She set about opening the bag at the top and pulling out several sticks and a sheet of tarp like material sewed together in specific places. Her hands ran across the cloth, it was slick, rain resistant. Her fingers found the folds and the seams and her mind began creating a picture of what was before her. This was nothing new, this was how she had done things all of her life. Cucouu, while a dear companion had not always been with her and she had not always known how to use the arcane.
He chuckled to himself giving her a final glance once she began to dig into the bag. He busied himself with getting a fire started, no difficult feat, it was just gathering a bit of wood. The pack held some easy to make meals, Mosur was no chef after all, that the Pandren had sold him in town before they left. It seems he was not the first nor would he be the last to come through the town with little to no cooking experience; they wouldn’t quite take no for an answer though.
He unwrapped a brown thick paper from around a few ingredients pre-measured with simple instructions, he squinted as some scratch it looked like it was written in three languages, Common, a vaguely familiar writing..he assumed it was Orchish and a third. He had seen this writing on other signs around, it must be the Pandarian language.
Mosur grunted a little catching Saas’s attention, she looked up and stared wide-eyed in his direction. “Having trouble there Old man?” She laughed to herself when she heard his all too familiar grunt at calling him old. Her attention returned to the tent, she could picture most of it in her mind’s eye, at least based on the shape of the cloth. She stretched it out across the ground and returned to the sticks that were meant to hold the canopy above their heads.
Each of the pair worked on their task, each of them having their own set of difficulties till both were through. Mosur exhaled lifting two deep bowls of…dinner. ”Alright dinner’s ready.” He commented and looked up from it to the tent she had just finished building.
She crossed her arms and gave the man a smug grin. “Oh! A coincidence. So is the tent..” He handed her the bowl he’d fixed for her and looked at the tent. “Not too bad,” he started and stirred his still steaming bowl, “you do know it’s inside out and backwards right?” He perked one brow looking at the inside out tent, it was a little crooked too.
Saas glanced over her shoulder where she knew the tent stood, a frown pulled at her mouth just a moment. She finished chewing the bit of food she’d scooped up; suddenly her whole face scrunched up followed by a hard swallow. She had half a mind to spit it out, but found that to be a bit too rude. Then again, so was the expression that had come over her face. Once the realization struck her, she did her best to hide it. “Mm… you know… It’s an interesting… flavor. Perhaps a bit… overdone and..too much, ah, … something…” He face winced again as she trailed off.
Mosur frowned, it wasn’t that bad? He had followed the directions. The shaman lifted his fork to his mouth and took a big bite chewing. Yeah it tasted fin- yuuh! Yeah it was in the after taste something definitely hit his tastebuds hard. Apparently they both had failed at their tasks.