[Open!] I'm New In Town!

[ferruginous]

WHO: Fíadh and whoever wants to meet her.
WHAT: Fíadh has arrived and taken over the blacksmith shoppe. Hope no one has issues with that.
WHEN: A few days after the Shepherds' fun.
WHERE: The Smithy
NOTES: Let's have a doozy!

Maybe it's the sound of clanging metal, or the plume of inky black smoke billowing from the chimney-top, but if someone was to come and take a look they'd find the blacksmith back open for business. But if they were expecting a different proprietor, they were about to get a shock. A shock in the form of a very tall woman with choppy blonde hair, currently scrubbing aggressively at a nasty rust stain spread across her anvil. Teeth gritted and eyes narrowed, it's a pure look of concentration and determination scrunched into her face.

At her feet is a decent-sized pack on its side, a few clothes and baubles spilling out to the floor. One might think she simply tossed it to the floor before immediately getting to work. But the second Fíadh saw this shop, and this rusted anvil, she knew she has to be the one to take care of it. That's just how she operates. Of course just barging in and taking over has never been the best way to ingratiate yourself upon a community, but Fíadh has never been very good at that. With any luck it will go over better here than the last few towns, but if not ... well, she'd burn that bridge when she crossed it.

Besides, when it comes down to it, she knows she won't stay here for long. She never does.

Comments

[sampler]

He frowns hard as she refuses his aid, then sighs and shrugs. It's not like he can force her to let him have a look. And it's not like he could do anything besides shove some cloth on it and run for the surgeon if it's really bad.

"Alright." Faro leans over to grab his basket -good thing they fell the other way and not onto it- then successfully makes it to his feet. A little wobbly and still feverishly blinking his bruised eye, but standing! His eyes light on the shears she finished and he smiles briefly. They look sharp!

"I can make do with these. Thank you. And-" He gives a nod towards the pile of debris, "Sorry."

[ferruginous]

She shrugs then quickly winces. All right, once Farogil is gone she'll have to take care of that. But, for now, she strides over to the table where he left his payment and grabs it before sauntering back and shoving it in his free hand.

"Next time I'll know better. Go."

[sampler]

Sorry Fíadh, he saw that wince. His brow furrows up some more and he gives her a pleading look as she thrusts his money back in his hand.

Oh well. If she's to handle it herself, he better get gone so she can get to it. So he nods, drops his money back in his basket, and hurries away.