faderift | CLOSED | Heart that is broken, beats still unceasing; An ocean of sorrow does nobody drown.

CLOSED | Heart that is broken, beats still unceasing; An ocean of sorrow does nobody drown.

WHO: Nari & Cade (and open to Simon and any of the Chantry Relations peeps if they want to stop in sometime!)
WHAT: Carving of the new statue of Andraste
WHEN: Mid Harvestmere to Mid Firstfall
WHERE: Chantry Forest
NOTES: Cade the walking CW!

The morning finds the sun beginning to shine through the trees and a cool breeze ruffling the canopy. It has begun to carry the first promises of winter, and the shadows are seeming less inviting, but the sun grants enough warmth that shivers are still rare.

Nahariel is already there when Cade arrives. In contrast to her usual leathers, today she's dressed for comfort--although not abandoning her color palette of dark greens and browns. She has, however, abandoned her shamefully beloved boots to the side in favor of the grass between her toes. A bevy of coarser tools are laid out in the grass nearby; a two handled saw leans against a tree, a shovel, a woodsman's axe, and it's cousin the adz nearby. The Dalish artisan is staring with a thoughtful frown at the spot Cade had marked for their project, but turns at his approach.

"Morning!" she says, her grin quirking up, "Ready to begin the search for Andraste?"

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She frowns thoughtfully then, looking around the green of the forest again as if she were seeing it for the first time. "...That I don't know. But it would certainly be more convenient than having to head out to the forest proper." The elf reaches up to ruffle her dark hair, an oft repeated gesture when abashed or stymied.

"The Chantry forest isn't so big that it would take long to do a sweep. If you take the east and I take the west, I wager we could meet back up before noon," Nari says. Her eyes light up with mischievous challenge. "Speaking of wager; if you find one, I'll stand you a drink at the Hanged Man, and if I find one it's on you?"

Cade nods, and is ready to go about his business, but then the subject of gambling comes up. He looks surprised, even goes a bit red, too shy to turn her down and too uncertain of how Dalish deal with ...well, both gambling and rejection. He doesn't do the former and is afraid to do the latter.
"I, um," he says haltingly, looking at the ground, "it's... that's all right. If you don't mind. Not."

"Oh! Uh--"

Aaaand there goes her hand through her hair again, the mischief dampened immediately to an awkward embarrassment. The red's not as obvious on her swarthy complexion but a discerning observer might see the blush. Right. Humans were different. Well, Andrastians were different. And Cade might as well have been a priest of Andraste, which is why she'd asked him in the first place.

Maybe I took my boots off so I could fit my foot in my mouth better.

"No!" Nahariel exclaimed quickly, "I don't. Mind, that is." Her hand starts moving up again and she quickly crosses her arms behind her back to trap it. "My hunting partner and I used to make silly bets all the time," she explained, de-flustering herself with some concentration, "There's not much else to do to amuse yourself in the forest on long hunts."

Looking a little startled at her protest, Cade is quickly brought back around. "I suppose so," he replies with a small smile, but is abruptly deeply aware of yet another cultural difference. Or at least... a personal one. He's never had a hunting partner, though that may be more about him and less about the people who aren't partnering with him.

Giving a small, awkward nod of acknowledgment, he turns to start into the forest to look for a usable tree. When in doubt, FLEE

She returned the small smile, and then as soon as the Templar was safely not watching, Nari lets herself ruffle her hair again. She wasn't sure if she was strange, Dalish were strange, shem'len were strange, the Inquisition was strange, Templar were strange, or Cade was strange... but something was odd about someone.

She peered for a long moment at his retreating back, smiling a bit at his hunter's careful stride through the underbrush, and then turned about to make her own search on the other side of the forest.

It took a few hours, but when they met back up at the clearing, the elf was grinning and pulling a small flat cart behind her.

"Found one!" she said, "A good one, too. Not too wet, not too green. Won't be an easy move, but I'm sure we can do it."

The walk has calmed Cade down, and he's almost serene by the time he meets back up with Nari. Noticing the cart, he gives a small, dutiful nod, preparing to follow her.

Their walk through the forest to the tree, cart in tow, was made in silence--at least until Nari started whistling her usual unconscious bits and snatches of songs, calling back to birds who trilled at their passing. It's not too far to the fallen tree; a good sized one who'd had a little less grip on the ground than its fellows.

"Ever sawed through a tree before?" the elf asks brightly, putting down the lead to the cart in order to vault lightly over the trunk to where she'd leaned the two-man saw.

"...no," Cade realizes, pausing to scope out the tree. Nonetheless, he goes to pick up one end of the saw, clearly willing to do so. "Will the cart hold it?"

"I hope so," Nari replies, "It was the biggest we had during construction that was pullable by two and fit between the trees." She stretches her hands a bit, tosses the cloth over-wrap she'd worn to cut the early chill back towards the cart, and picks up the other end of the saw. "Sword hand on the bottom handle to help steady the blade better," she says conversationally, taking her own grip. "You're probably going to want to push since that's how you saw with one, but in this case it's going to be taking turns pulling. Keep your arms steady but loose; you'll follow when I pull, and I'll do the same. We'll do some short careful ones to get it started, but once we're into the wood and find a good rhythm, we can have to!"

She'll wait for some sign of readiness from Cade, then nod and begin with a relatively gentle pull, concentrating on the line where the blade meets the bark.

Cade is an apt enough pupil, and before too long they're sawing with relative efficiency for at least one of them having never done it before. By the time they've finished, Cade's arms are jelly and his shirt is soaked through with sweat, despite the cold. How long has it been since he was dropped from the Templars? He's more out of shape than he imagined.
"Onto the cart then?" he asks with dutiful breathlessness, moving to help lift the log.

Nahariel had been doing construction work more recently than Cade had been training but she's got the same sheen of sweat, her dark hair plastered to her temples. Despite the exertion - or perhaps because of it - she's got a silly grin on her face as she steps back to survey their work. It's a nice clean cut, even though that won't matter much when she starts to hack large portions away. A good job is a good job nevertheless.

"How about a few minutes rest first?" she suggests, tossing him a waterskin with an easy arc. She lifts another, dumping a bit on her head to cool it before taking a drink. "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't trust myself to roll it up there sure right now."

Cade isn't expecting the waterskin, and he fumbles it after he catches it, but doesn't let it hit the ground. "Thanks," he says with an uncertain smile, still shy after all this time spent together. Then he takes a drink, collecting his thoughts for several moments while he chugs the water and wipes his mouth after.
"...at least it's not uphill." The comment is almost dry.

The elf nods at his thanks, snorts a laugh in response to the comment and then briefly darts her eyes towards him, her eyebrows lifting for a moment before her face returns to its previous amicable ease. Did he just make a joke?

"True enough," she says, lowering herself to the ground to lean her back against the rest of the fallen tree. The rough of the bark, the birds, the smell of the forest, the ache of hard work in her arms that lessens slowly as they sit, the almost companionable quiet--it was good. It had been a while since all those things had come together. A long while.

When the ache in her arms was gone and she'd cooled enough that the breezes that ruffled the leaves made her shiver rather than smile, she leveraged herself to her feet.

"Plenty more time to rest when she's in place. Ready to see if the cart'll hold?"

Giving a single nod of assent, Cade groans to his feet again and awaits instruction. Being the bulkier of the two (not that that's saying much), he's prepared to do most of the lifting, but is as determined to do an amazing job as he is to not make an ass of himself in front of one of the few people who are kind to him.

Getting it up on the cart was nearly as difficult as it had been cutting it, even with the aid of a small ramp cunningly built into the cart. Tired as they already were, the two had more than enough determination to roll the heavy section up onto the cart. Nari managed a muted ragged cheer when the trunk finally settled into place, looking pleased with herself until she remembered there was still the business of carting it back to the clearing.

Luckily it wasn't too far, the ground was fairly flat, and where it did slope, it sloped towards their goal.

"Another break, or shall we press on?" the elf asks, scrubbing the sweat from her tattooed brow with the wrap she'd tossed aside earlier.

"Let's go," Cade decides, getting himself in position to do most of the pushing, arms braced against the cart's handles. He gives it a tug, realizes he'll need help to budge it, and laughs weakly. "If I sit down I'll never get back up."

And go they did, with some fairly serious difficulty. Nahariel joined Cade at the handles, setting her feet securely and pushing until they both strained and then pushing a bit more. Finally, the wheels creaked forward, momentum was gained, and the three of them--Nari, Cade, and Andraste--made their ponderous way to their chosen glade. Levering it upright was no easier, and by the time it stood pointing towards the sky the Templar knew three or four more Dalish curses than he had to begin with.

Or at least he could be pretty sure they were curses, given the circumstances under which they were uttered, and the utterer's quick darting glances of light embarassment that followed each one.

But it was done. At least this part. Giving up pretense of energy, Nahariel let herself lie back in the springy grass of the small clearing with a heavy whuff of breath. Her eyes sought the shapes of sky between the leaves, the small wheeling groups of seabirds, and then finally dropped to the side to seek out Cade to pump her fist weakly in shared victory.

"Good work. I think maybe... we should start tomorrow."

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CLOSED | Heart that is broken, beats still unceasing; An ocean of sorrow does nobody drown.

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