Someday I'll Make Something Out of Me

Ruth chuckled as she offered to pass on his regards to her smith. It was a hollow statement to him since she’d likely said it to merely deflect his equally empty compliment. If he’d been feeling less like he’d deep throated a barbed cock he may have been slightly less aggrieved? Perhaps, perhaps not. He had few things to be ‘happy’ about these days. His habits merely numbed existence enough that he could coast through most days.

Hearing that they worked the same profession, Ruth’s eye narrowed slightly, Well, Doctor, I’m sorry for bothering you. We make terrible patients, no? At least he did. Megara had mercifully not lectured as hard when sowing up the ragged edges of his slashed orbit, but he hadn’t made it easy. He had to have problems, constantly.

Nodding that Gold was fine, Ruth leaned back against the doorframe and slid down to the ground, drawing up a boot to unlace and eventually pull off. Pretty sure I’ve some gold and other shiny bits… gimme a sec…. His hand felt around inside for the hiding place cut into the sole, fingers deftly plucking out a number of coins and a coloured stone, clicking a little as he palmed them before slipping them into a pocket in his robes.

Rebooting his foot, he’d grin slightly, though his eye maintained its focus on his hands, pulling at laces and retying them as he spoke. Rut’theran, but Ruth is fine. Boot secured his back sank against the wood to appraise her. I already said what I do, sometimes I work with others, most times not. He’d shrug and then everything stilled as she held out the container. His attention was fully caught on the vial for a long moment, the single blue eye eventually fixed on her, the size of the vial a little unexpected.

... I’mma need my other boot.