Nov 06 18:14:53 108 PA - Friends, Fire, Night, Bite, Right then Flight

From Chronicles

Nov 06 18:14:53 108 PA.

PAVEL'S MEADOW & FORGE

The blotchy sky is mostly dark, a steady drizzle falling through trees in a rustling noise made louder by the swish of wind. Here and there the sun breaks through; radiant, streaming light falling from the heavens to bring a patch of trees into stark relief against the shrouded world. There's a sound of unfamiliar hooves in the glade, added by the tinkling of steel. The horse sounds heavy. A glimpse of her might be seen through the trees -- a Clydesdale, by her height a mare, shaggy boots unsuited to local weather. The dull steel strapped about her fits perfectly with the heavy armor of her rider.

The Friesian mare who calls this place home is likely just as big as the Clydesdale, both by natural stature and being hand picked to carry a very large man. She too has the feathering, but her coat is jet black - as with all Friesians. She lets out a whinny as the intruder enters, causing Pavel to look up from his work. Not that his hammer blows stop when his eyes leave the working surface. A man whom he doesn't recognize, and on a horse! He eventually stops, leaving the metal among the coals, wiping his hands on his apron. "Allo! I Pavel!"

"I remember," comes a reply, dulled and amplified by a helmet. As he rides closer, the helmet is distinctive -- lensed eyes with a series of LED lights rising from the bridge of the nose to the center of the forehead, crossed on the brow by another series of lights. It looks for all the world like a cross. The armored figure rides towards the forge, at home on the horse's back. She seems entirely unphased by his weight. "We met once. I am called Sebasien Dubois. I was riding and heard your hammer strikes. So this is where you work."

"Da, I Pavel, ees remehbarh yoo, foony helmeht. Mahn veet praheed, da? Yoo half cohm fohr.. seh hello? Szees good." He lifts his big smith's apron from around his neck and walks back to hang it on a peg.

Sebastien stares a long moment. He could be listening to music inside that helmet. He might be having a stroke. He's still as he stares into space, and presently replies simply, "Yes." In one fluid motion Sebastien kicks a leg over Sara's neck and falls to the earth below, legs catching the extra weight in a way that screams 'exoskeleton.' He strides forward, his horse following a few steps back, and waves a hand at the forge. "This. I'm curious. I've never seen one in action. What are you making?"

Pavel looks down a bit at the odd man with somewhat more scrutiny. "Ees fohrge, Pavel mahkeeng plowv fohr fahrmehr een veelahge east frohm heer. Yoo... Sebastien, alvehs... brusque?" Give the man a cigar, he choked out a genuine word! Not that he seems concerned. No, he turns his back and waves for the knight to follow him.

Under the cover of that roof, Sebastien reaches for his helmet and works a lever, breaking the seal. Tugging, he ducks a bit and makes a small groaning sound before that funny visage pops free. Inside his head is in a head sock, which he reaches up to tug back and expose his face. He peers aside at Pavel, shrugging faintly as he replies, "I can reply only to what I can understand, monsieur. I applaud that you have learned the language, but..." He laughs, and shakes his head. "Do you speak, ah, Dragonese perchance?" Sebastien's eyes fall on the still-glowing piece of steel, musing, "If that were a sword, could you hammer it smooth, or would you grind it?"

The giant blacksmith smiles at that, accepting the issue of language, but smirking at the question of hammer or wheel. "Vhen deh cohm vehn Pavel need fohr sharpehn veet vheel, noht hammehr, ees veel be taheeme fohr Pavel stohp be blahcksmeeth." His apron remains on the shelf and he picks up the large piece of metal with tongs at first, but then just grabs the yellow-hot metal out of them to hold up for inspection. "No see veehl heer, da? Mahny bettehr vohrk by hand. Ees laheek... veet your svord? Bettehr to do veet hand, szan veet half macheen do?" Sebastien just looked at you.

The glow of the forge lights the glade in faint orange light. From the forge itself, the world around is blacker than night, or anything short of oblivion. From the woods, the forge is a glowing beacon. The occasional flying pest is still seen this late in the year, and Sebastien slaps at his neck with a gauntleted hand, and he shifts his grip on the helmet he holds. "I don't understand," Sebastien replies simply, "But if you're able to make an edge without grinding, then bien. Monique is the same way. She values her tools, though they seem primitive, because they work just the way she wants them to."

Pavel nods, smiling. "I show." he lifts an unfinished knife, just as small blade, and holds it up resting on open palms. "Ees noht feenayshed, boot veel do fohr yoo." He takes it with amazingly delicate fingers, with amazing gentle dexterity, and runs his fingers a few times down its length, one on each side, his eyes looking carefully from beneath somewhat heavy brows. After a very short time, no more than a minute, he takes it by the hilt and holds it up for inspection. "Vahs noht shahrp, nowv ees shahrp." As an example, he pulls out a large piece of leather obviously used for this purpose, based in the number of slices. It draws a perfect cut, one that a doctor could use as a field scalpel - or a hospital scalpel. "No vheel, no hammehr fohr feenaysh. Boot mahny good." He opens his palm again and offers it across to the knight.

There's all kinda things't bite inna night. Not all 'em fly. Or are little. There's a howl off somewhere. Couple more answer back. Then a last one. That ain't so far off.

Sebastien leans in, watching as if trying to decipher a magic trick. His eyebrows furrow, the scars tightening as his face pinches in consternation. He smirks at the end of the 'transformation,' eyeing the leather jadedly as if to say 'I'm in on the joke,' though as the blade parts the tough leather is eyebrows raise and Sebastien's mouth cracks open. "It's fucking magic," he mutters uncharacteristically, and when the hand offers the tiny blade he reaches instead for the meaty paw, running a gauntleted fingertip along Pavel's hand as if checking to see if he's got diamond dust embedded in there. "I'll be da--," he mutters, and then looks up at the howl. "That was close," he murmurs. "Sara!" Sebastien looses Pavel's hand to raise a finger, circling it above his head. As she turns to walk the perimeter, he reaches to snag from her back the mutant child of a rifle and a halberd. He sets that down, eyes on the black beyond the fire, as he begins reattaching his helmet. Pavel stands up straight as the knight suddenly seems to get ready for battle. Not that he reaches for any particular weapon sitting around. Not that there really *are* any weapons sitting around, though bolt-cutters to a thumb would probably be bad. He wipes a hand across his eyes, leaving a small soot-smudge. "Aheemal? Laheek.. vohlf. Da, Zoyenka ees sehf, Pavel sehf, Pavel keep Sebastien sehf. Fohrge mahny good, eef vohreed." He looks quite confident in his ability to save the life of a worried man.

Looks like it was pretty close. Since there's a dark furry thing trots outta the trees. Kinda fits the howlin. Maybe the horsie'll spot it. Maybe not. Yellow eyes're lookin round. Mostly at the bright forge. And the ones standin round it. That's where it's movin for too.

Sebastien gets the helmet on before he notices the critter running across the short grass. "That's not a wolf," he utters in that vaguely muffled, amplified voice. Reaching for the rifle, he taps a key and a hum to set teeth on edge might just be felt, at a frequency too high for the ear to pick it up. It comes in somewhere between one's molars though. "It's not hot enough." He steps away from Pavel, circling from the forge, and he raises a hand to Sara at the edge of the glade. The hand is open.

As Pavel walks toward one of his small drawers, the previously huge flame is instantly extinguished, vanished as if it had never been there. Even the coals aren't glowing. Though it's practically impossible for non-enhanced vision to see, he raises a set of goggles to his eyes. "Oh. Da, ees noh vohlf. Ees? Eh." Not seemingly worried, he puts the goggles back into the drawer, pulling out a beautiful-if-not-deadly looking silver knife instead. "Noht rooning? Prohbahbly noht dehgayroos."

Bitch ain't so hot. But can see just fine. Ain't all worried neither. Even with the horsie there. There's justa li'l growl can be heard. And still trottin up to the boys 'n the useda be a big bright forge. Course she ain't dangerous. Just like a puppy. But bigger. And the people with the fancy eyeballs can maybe see warm wet round her muzzle. So maybe she ain't hungry neither.

Something changes. A pause, and a tilt of the head. "Sara!" Sebastien calls, click-clicking his tongue twice and pointing at the not-wolf. As the horse trots up behind the smaller animal, Sebastien turns towards Pavel with his blade held low, a warning note in his voice. "Put the knife down," he suggests, shoulders turning towards the huge man. That mechanical visor stares impassively as he eases to be between the two.

Pavel listens to the knight... puts the knife down and grabs a smaller knife, then starts walking toward them. Not really with any purpose, just walking fairly unconcerned. "Vohlf ahttahk, vood ahttahk ahlrehdy." Not that he's going to try to push the horse out of the way, or go around. In the distance, the jet-black Zoyenka is hidden to all normal vision beneath the night sky. "Vhy so vohreed?"

There's a whuffle. Or chuffle. And a snort. Maybe a smirk too. That's kinda hard to tell. Least until the wolf starts to go all woozy and melty. Rises up to two legs. Pretty quick she swaps in fur for leather. Gray for blonde. Bitch for Bella. And yep. It's a smirk. "Hiya boys. Out havin fun?'

Sebastien replies with a touch of amusement in his muffled, amplified voice, "Because you might decide to cut a bitch." He lifts his head a touch, calling out loud and clear, "What are you doing, mademoiselle? That is exactly not the most ... happy, pleasant," he falls silent at the woman's voice. Without turning, he asks Pavel, "She's naked back there, isn't she?"

Pavel has never actually seen a wolf turn into a Bella. Or anything else. But he's always a very gentle giant with a calm demeanor, taking things as they come without too much excitement. Except when he hits the clubs and chases tail, of course. With the fire gone, the area is lit only by any lights that the knight may have on, as the skies have clouded over at this point. "Ees nehked? Pavel cahnoht see szees. Eef Bella vahnt closzes, Pavel half... blehnket?" He then smiles and waves to Sebastien. "See, Pavel seh vahs noszeeng so fohr vorry." The forge bursts in to a huge, bright flame again.

Bella ain't nekkid. Ain't surprised that Sebastien was thinkin that neither. "No. Ain't nekkid. Ya gotta ask all nice first." More smirk. Since Sebastien's turned 'way from her she walks up 'n taps him onna back. So he knows she's right there. Pavel gets grinned at. "Can keep the blanket. Whatcha doin?"

The skull-numbing whine ends, and Sebastien takes his right hand off the overgrown laser-halbred to reach back and place an armored gauntlet on Bella's far shoulder. Tugging her gently closer -- a touch protectively -- he glances down just a touch obviously to check and make sure she's actually clothed. "Is that all?" he wonders, the muffled voice sounding amused.

Pavel stays where he is, just tucking his smaller knife into a belt. Not a weapons belt, barely even a tool belt, but it's somewhere to stash it where it won't poke him. "Bella! Cohm so fohr pleh een coahls? Vyery vahrm! Vyery preety! Or... mehbee cohm fohr so raheed Zoyenka? Or... has fohllow Sebastien, ahnd pleh games? Es mahny szeengs fohr Bella ees meescheef!" He seems quite amused by the whole thing.

"Course't's all." Bella gets pulled to Seb. Smirks more. Since he's grabbin she pats him again. Onna front this time. Low. Too bad there's alla that armor inna way. Her grin peeks round him at Pavel. "Was out huntin 'n stuff. Figgered he was here. Came to take a peek. 'N course I like that kindsa stuff. It's fun. How many girls ya grab up this week Pavel?"

Sebastien muses quietly, "Strange, I heard from a reliable source you went after bad people. In the dregs. Some kind of vigilante." He peers down again, apparently oblivious to the pat -- probably thanks to all that armor -- and he peers up at Pavel, armored face impassive. Though he does seem to be listening for a reply.

Pavel has nothing to add to the conversation. He just looks back at the impassive armored face.

Bella lets go of Seb. Easier to shrug. "Do that too. Parta the other fun stuff ya know. Nobody likes the bad people." A grin. "Cept maybe fer a snack. Assholes still taste Ok." She quirks a brow at the big guy since he's all quiet.

"Such a dirty girl!" Sebastien replies, humor thick in his voice. "I am never kissing those lips!" He laughs then and glances at Pavel, whole head turning to let him do it.

Even Pavel gets in on the joke this time. "Een Krazny Kut, vehn vohmen mehk food, bootchehr ahneemal... asshohle geht szrown awvyeh! Ees no so good fohr eet. Boot mehbe Bella vas rehsed deefehrent? Eet assohle of ahneemal? Pavle szeenk eet no so good fohr tehst." He waves the other two back toward the forge. "Cohm, ees mahny vohrm."

Bella laughs a li'l. "Not that kind." She nods her head at Sebastien. "THAT kind. Course..." Now she's smirkin. "He's really all sweet. Under alla that crunchy 'n squishy stuff." She blows Seb a kiss. Looks back at Pavel. "I butcher him maybe not throw 'way ev'rything."

Sebastien ducks his chin and stage-whispers at Pavel, which is hard given that his helmet is amplifying what he says, "She's only interested in one particular bit." His nods knowingly, and crooks a finger at Bella. "Come here."

The blacksmith seems... amused? Maybe? At the cutsie antics going on. "Ees good fohr foon, da. Boot... a fohrge noht alhehs mohst foon? Mehbe fohr Aleehbay? Naheeteengehle? Mohr preetee, mohr laheete, mohr... vohmen fohr Pavel so.. hov ees seh? 'Hook ohp veet?'"

"Yeah. Way better fer hookin up. But gets borin sometimes." Bella grins some. "Nice ta come out 'n play inna woods too. Ain't alla bout grabbin somebody up." She steps back over to Seb. The front side this time. Looks up at him all curious. "Yeah?"

Sebastien nods at that, replying with a smirk, "That's the current theory." He peers down at her, the optics on his helmet whirring between the unlit cross that covers his face. He stares at her some long moments, armored exoskeleton bulging with jet pack and flared vambraces and God knows what else, before he simply leans back to whistle for Sara. "It's time for good little boys to be home in their beds," he declares.

It's late night, and though it's not raining, the temperature has dropped enough that some people might find it cold. The skies are completely clouded over, and a stiff breeze is blowing through Pavel's clearing. Zoyenka continues to munch on grass and act as large equine sentry. The flames at Pavel's hearth are huge and blazingly bright, although the blacksmith himself looks rather... not confused, but not amused, either. Sebastien is in full armor outside of the forge's simple cover and boundaries getting felt up by Bella, and the two of them are enjoying some banter back and forth. His horse? Is doing smart horsey stuff.

Pavel keeps listening, utters a few words in Russian, then starts to move back to his work area, allowing the two twittering non-lovers to tickle each other.

Bella nods at Seb. "Uh huh. But ya ain't so good. 'R li'l neither." Her grin ain't li'l neither. He gets one last pat. "Go find a bed. Get some fun. Don't break nothin too bad."

Sebastien laughs at that, and reaches for Sara's pommel. "That was rather non-specific," he notes, hooking his right foot in a stirrup before leaping into place. Despite a hundred pounds of armor, he does it like water falling backwards. Smooth and easy. "Duly noted!" With that, he heels Sara and the pair trot towards the treeline, in the direction of the road.

Pavel watches the swift and completely announced departure of the knight with amusement. He'd never be one to stand on formalities - far from it - but the quirk of his brow seems to find it interesting that he didn't even bother to say goodbye to the man whose home he'd invaded. Nevertheless, he moves on. "Ees Bella fohr go, too? Ohr ees fohr keep cohmpany?"

"Ain't goin nowhere." Bella turns back to Pavel. "Not yet anyways. Weren't here justa bug him. Even if it's fun."

Zoyenka, Pavel's loyal company of both riding and draught horse makes her way over to lower her muzzle to the top of Bella's head, going so far that her warm, humid breathing should be quite adequately felt. The blacksmith smiles. "Ah, Pavel's hohrse ees laheeke Bella. Good saheegn. Eef eentehrested, Bella laheeke raheede Zoyenka? Fohr veeseht?"

Bella blinks some. Smirks. Then pats the horsey. "Good thing. Yeah. Good thing me 'r my pack buddies didn't eatcha huh?" She's talkin bout the horse of course. Probably. "Nah. Don't need ride no horse. Prolly break somethin." Like the horse.

Pavel looks at Bella with a keen eye. "Zoyenka prohbahblee noht geet breek by Bella. Mahny strohng, strohng for Pavel raheed. So.. vhy vahs Bella vohlf? Pavel deed noht knowv Bella could be volhf. Ees... fohr mohr fahstehr move?"

"Yeah. Guesso." Bella shrugs. "Run quicker. Howl louder. Be furrier. More teeth." Now she grins. "'S fun. Good reason 's any of 'em."

Pavel shrugs at that, apparently finding no argument. "Ees Sebastien ahlso theenk foony szaht pohk ees bahlls?" There's a wide grin behind at what at this time in the evening is nearly a beard. Damn thing just grows too quickly. No matter how carefully he shaves it in the morning.

Bella perks brows. She ain't sure she heard that all right. "Uh. Maybe? Ain't poked 'is balls inna while. Dunno if he thinks it's all funny though." Smirkin time. "Figger he's thinkin bout fun 'n not funny."

"Ees Bella fohr out eet, nohw? Fohr cohm too fohrge veet volhf soot fohr closzes? Bella cahn joost... cohm fohr fohrge. Zoyenka hahppy fohr see." As if on cue, the huge equine makes her way over and starts to snort on the top of his companion's head again. Whinnnyyy!

Bella wanders closer to the forge to get a better peek. Since he's talkin bout it. Sorta. "Weren' out lookin ta come 'ere. Li'l huntin. Li'l playin. Just saw the fire 'n stuff. Figgered I oughtta come see what was goin on. Since Seb was here."

"Yes, Sebastien cohm... fohr Pavel not knowv fohr so vy. Boot ees okahy, ees good see fraheend. Vehn Bella vas pleheeng as volf? Vhat ees fohr plahee?" Pavel's fire doubles in size once more, and he reaches into shuffle some coals around into what may be a better way to keep a flame. Or something. Who knows what a blacksmith's mind says?

"Playin witha wolfs a course. Whatcha doin?" Bella figgers must be somethin good about movin the burnin stuff round so she sticks a hand in ta do a li'l helpin too. He reminded her of somethin else too. "Huh. Wonder what he was doin out 'ere. Guess we better ask 'im huh?" Sounds like she figgers he's gonna be back. Maybe got somethin ta do with thinkin a li'l "Hey get yer ass back over here" Sebastien's way. And the horse he rode out on too.

Pavel is playing with fire, in more ways than one. First is the obviousness of the blaze itself. Second is that as Bella begins to call for Sebastien, he pulls out a half-finished blade and starts to finish it. When done, it will be an absolutely beautiful silver object excellent for killing just about whatever gets in its way. He even points to it as he works. "Vhen ees close fohr done, Pavel ees tahke, poot eenley. Be vyery preety, da. Mahny look good fohr pehroshn. Cahn be tool, cahn be ahrt, da?"

Sebastien returns. And the horse he rode in on. There's a faint crash in the brush, and then he breaks through into the glade. There must be close to three thousand pounds of steel, ceramic, polymer and flesh trotting back across the lawn. Good thing it isn't muddy! He lets Sara trot right up next to Bella and dismounts by kicking a leg over her head and dropping into a crouch two feet from the diminutive woman. He raises smoothly and reaches for her shoulder, running a gauntleted hand across those small shoulders as if he never meant to leave at all. "That's a good-looking knife," Sebastien praises. "Is it just for utility, or could that parry a vibro-blade?"

Bella looks up at her sorta knight in sorta shinin armor. Smirks. "Took ya long 'nuff." But she don't throw a burnin coal at him. Even if it'd be funny. She looks a the knife instead. Still smirkin. "Yep. Always better when ya can gut somebody with somethin pretty. Prolly easier 'n just bashin 'em witha rck 'r somethin too."

The blacksmith allows the metal a few more whacks, then pulls it out of the fire. It's still glowing red-white hot with remnant heat, but he holds it in one hand and uses the other to demonstrate dimensions. "Eef pehrsohn vas strohng? Noht pehrry vaheebroh-blehde, just breehk vaheebroh-blehde. Szos ees veek, szees ees strohng. Mahny vaheebroh-blehde, because eesy to mehk. Mahny Pavel svord? No. Easy to mehk, da. Boot mahny mohr behttehr, so noh fohr evehry pehrsohn.

"You are a very cheerful woman, non?" Sebastien wonders, an obvious smirk in his voice. He reaches to unlatch that helmet again, tugging, and tugging to remove it. When he finally has it off, he gives Pavel an appreciative look. "Now that is a pretty trick. Moi, I am always having to take my swords back for new plating, always new plating, because the silver just flakes off when it hits anything that is hard."

"Course I am." Bella grins real big at Sebastien ta prove it. Maybe provin too hard. Looks kinda silly stickin her tongue out at 'im between extra pointy canines. "'N maybe ya oughtta go hit softer things. 'R get better swords."

Pavel offers, "Cahn mehk behttter seelvehr forh Sebahstiyen? Could do nowv, eef vahnt." He waves a hand past his head, quenching the other blade without looking. "Mehk seelvehr mahny bettehr strohng? Szees vyery eesy."

Sebastien peers down at Bella, smirking. "Is there something softer around for me to hit?" He peers at her a short moment. "Even I can carry only so many swords. One of them will always be silver. If I have a hard target, oh well. Do you--" He peers across at Pavel then, smiling at the offer. "I'm sorry. I've become a patron, of sorts. There is a man who followed my own heart but was very short of money. I gave him all that I had. I'm afraid that until I get more work, I could buy nothing from you. But I can recommend him to you, if perhaps he has anything left?"

Bella already gotta pretty li'l knife. She pulls it out to waggle at Sebastien. "Yer broke? Guess ya shoulda got one when he was givin 'em 'way." Waggle. Waggle. Poke. Poke. Then she looks at Pavel. Quirks brows. "How much fer one anyways?

Pavel shakes his head. "Deed noht seh fohr mohney. Pavel seh could do fohr Sebastien. Ees vyery eesy. Boot fohr pehsohn ahlso eentehrested veet vhaht Pavel do? Pleese, da, seend heer. Pleese, Sebastien." He walks toward the other man with 'gimme' finger motions. "Svord."

Sebastien's eyes dip at the knife, speaking in a no-nonsense voice, "Hey, cut it out!" He jukes once, and then just backs away from Bella, several quick strides that carries him away from the poking knife. "That's not a toy, mademoiselle!" he admonishes. Then he peers across at Pavel, edging sideways towards the man so that he can keep an eye on Bella. Slowly reaching towards Sara, he tugs away from her a run-of-the-mill NTI chain sword, the blade sparkling with a silver plate. It's big, heavy, and doesn't even look much like a sword, really.

"Yeah. Yeah." Bella's smirkin agains. She points the knife at him again. Sorta. More at the big saw thing he's got. "But that looks like a fun one! Trade ya?" He was just sayin he wanted a pretty blade right?

Still wearing his big apron, Pavel walks over to take the 'sword' from Sebastien. He lets out a deep, derisive grunt, then amusedly, "Szees ees no *svohrd.* Szees, szees... eembohmeenehshion!! Stoopeed, szaht vaht szees ees. Boooht..." He pokes at the teeth. "Pavel steel mehbe cahn mehk so noht fahl frohm.. heh.. vaht ehvehr szees sooposed to be."

Sebastien laughs at Pavel, "What can I say, I'm not ready to bench press seven hundred pounds? Look at you! You could drive a spork through tank armor! I need a little extra ... oomph, a mechanical aid. Like this." He reaches his right arm out and what looks like a flashlight flicks from his waist into his hand, a blade of pure light flickering into being a moment later. "It's not even a blade," he points out, swaying it back and forth. The light blazes a trail in the night air, leaving afterimages on the retina of whomever looks at it. "But if I'm fighting, say, a robot, no matter how hard I hit them with one of those," he points his 'sword' at Bella's blade, "I'm never going to cut it. That's why, mademoiselle, I must decline."

Bella shrugs and puts her knife 'way. "Seb's gotta get the biggest whatever. Makes 'im look better." That for Pavel but she's winkin at Sebastien. "Could just not fight robots 'n stuff. 'R somethin." She shrugs. "Ain' never fought none."

Pavel hands the NTI weapon back. "Vahnt fohr Pavel try mehk eet strohngehr?" Then his eyes are caught by the ribbon of light. Interested at first, clearly, but then not quite as impressed. "Oh. Ees.. noh, vaht ees?" He starts to walk over as if he's going to play the game of putting his finger through a flame without getting burnt.

Sebastien quickly powers off the sword, and chastises Pavel. "Careful. You wouldn't even feel it. You'd pull back your hand and your fingers would be cauterized, ending at the first or second joint. It's a brutal weapon, really. You can't block it with your own sword. Only get out of the way." He carefully tucks the flashlight-looking thing back on his belt.

"Guess ya better not trip when ya got it huh?" Bella grins 'n steps over ta Sebastien. Pokes 'im with justa finger this time. "Could be fun fer some stuff. But don' sound like much fun fer hittin people with. If nobody's gonna feel nothin." She shrugs.

Zoyenka comes up at that moment from where she'd been enjoying grass in the dark. Her muzzle is placed between Bella's shoulders, and the girl gets a little shove. Then another. Then another. All of them away from the forge and Pavel's home, which makes the blacksmith chuckle. "Zoyenka ees seh Pavel sleep nohw. She good fohr Pavel, vehn Pavel noht veet veemon, da?" He then laughs and waves at Bella. "Mohr szan tvo veemon, da?" Then looking to the knight, "Eef vahnt Pavel look fohr mehk svohrd-szeeng behttehr, Pavel cahn try. Oszer? Ees poot mohr seelvehr on, vehn go. Boot... good fohr soh naheet." The flames immediately snap out of existence, barely even a glow from hot coals.

Sebastien agrees with Bella, "It is a worry, but I'm better-suited than most." He winks at that, and laughs as she's so casually shoved away from them by the horse. "Come on!" he calls to her. "I'll take you for a ride. Let Pavel have his beauty sleep. Au revoir, Pavel! Keep the sword, see what you can do! Perhaps a better chain? But I leave it in your capable hands."

Bella gets nuzzled nickered 'n pushed. But she laughs about it. Then perks up at Seb's offerin. "Ya come on." She lifts up a hand. Crooks her finger at 'im. If he's takin her fer a ride he's gotta go her way. Not th'other way 'round. Maybe Sara can come along too.