Ah but there's always a chance for rot or the one with a hand firm enough to tear all things she might take for weeds out, root and stem. (Araceli has come into possession of plants, there's an attempt at learning the parts.)

"There's a familiarity but Kirkwall is a fresh start, no? Darktown is...I am not fond of underground. In the dark." Castileos doesn't really have caves that you can't go swimming in but Araceli absently rubs her thumb before she catches herself, stopping with a tut. "You understand why I am not fond," she says quickly after the pause becomes too awkward, too strained (why does it still sometimes like to swim to the surface when it should be gone, just a memory and a scar) for her liking. "I can see what I can provide, I don't know what people don't know here until I realise there's something missing that I'm so used to and they look at me as if I have a second head."

Which is useful in a way but not the most ideal way to go about it when your hand can be statement enough in and of itself.

"There is a list. Somewhere. In a book. If Lux hasn't eaten the list for whatever reason a fox has for eating bits of paper he sets eyes upon unless I tell him he is to not eat those papers under any circumstances."