Parsley was late.
Ever since the doe had started spending time up at the Wingnut territory and also the old castle, she's been falling behind on some of her lesser duties. Never mind that she was also doing the work that her 'sick' twin Clover was supposed to handle - there were those that really depended on her.
One of those dependents was Aviri Chalk. The teenaged buck had a full satchel of Creensbane that he was supposed to hand off, so that Parsley would take it to.. whoever needed it in the first place. Aviri didn't deal with that end of things, he just went out and found the plants that were needed. He still had to get the Worriwort from the edge of the swamp! Waiting around was just torture! Maybe he should.. well.. look for Parsley. Maybe. He might have to ask people about her though...
Said 'buck' is walking toward the more populated areas, every gesture in his gait indicating nervous tension. The satchel at his hip bounces happily along in a juxtaposition to the lapine's mood. All but wringing his hands before him, his head and eyes dart around, searching anxiously.
Further ahead is.. the Gypsy Camp. And of course it's right up against the swamp, where the best Worriwort is found. He's heard weird stories about the Gypsies too. There's no choice but to pass them in order to take the road into town.
Aviri Chalk pauses for a moment when he sees the camp, his frequent twitchings stopping for a full three seconds as he ponders alternative routes. Then, hunching his shoulders slightly, he pushes forward quickly--not exactly running, but not strolling either. He enters the camp, ears low for a more inconspicuous look. The satchel no longer bounces, held to his body by an arm. His eyes still flicker about, as if expecting danger and death to leap out at any moment.
Well, death isn't leaping out, but it sure feels like danger, what with the eyes of the camp just ... watching. Mostly skreeks, a few Rath-ani, even a few lapi. All are dressed in the most garish sets of clothing possible, and in every color imaginable. Well, except foe the mostly-naked black Eeee lounging on top of the of the wagons. Her attire consists of painted fur and .. glowing red eyes. Even better is when she smiles at the lapi upside-down like, she had long fangs. She's not moving otherwise at least; and not having any pupils means she might not be following him with her eyes. A few more feet and Aviri will be through the town. Just a few more feet and safety. "Going somewhere?" squeaks a voice to the left of the lapi; crushing the hope of making it through the camp without interruption. "And with a bag? Just what is in that bag, hmm?"
Aviri turns, and what was once extremely quiet muttering about various plants and their effects gets suddenly and briefly louder in his shock. Ears still laying flat at his back, he says quickly, "Somewhere? Somewhere? I g-go to Parsley (not for pregnant women--could be okay in small doses). Late. M-issing." He pulls the satches closer to him, the rest of him slightly twitchy. "Why ask? Why you want to k-know?"
Aviri finds he's talking to a bush. A bush that seems to want to circle him slowly. There is someone inside that bush, but it's obviously not a very large someone. "It's my job to know," says the bush, "There are hoards that lurk all around the town just waiting for the chance to invade. Maybe you're helping them."
"Invade," Aviri says quickly. "Capture. Destroy. Conquest. Subjugate..." He starts turning, keeping the bush in front yet still trying to flank it toward the bridge. "All bad for Clan. All bad for town. Why I help them? No reason." The lapine's eyes dart momentarily to the bridge and town. If he -is- a traitor, he's obviously very afraid of being discovered.
"Ah ah, you wouldn't make the bridge if you ran. Not from me," the bush claims, followed by a puffy rustle. The unnatural unfolding of the bush is even a bit more disturbing as the person inside it sheds it as a disguise. A kadie, young, maybe twelve. No .... worse, Aviri has head of this one; Gunther Kettenrad. His reputation in town is, well ... he's been called the unwelcome wagon for a reason. The kadie's gray tail twitches and his head cocks just so as he eyes Aviri with his narrowed left eye. "You're that weird lapi, Avery. You don't go into town. But everyone knows lapis are social, so you must be going to be with people somewhere," the kadie accuses. "Where is their camp, hmm?"
The Lapi stops his circling now that he knows what he's dealing with. "Social," he says quickly. "Gregarious, communal. People. Aviri--" he places emphasis on the final two syllables, "doesn't like people. Changing, unknowable, unpredictable. Unfriendly. Parsley missing, gone, lost. Most likely in town. Need to give her latest crop. Camp is here, camp is there; camp is everywhere." He gestures to the gypsie camp and town respecively before trying to encompass the whole world into the final word. "Why you bother me?"
Gunther continues to eye the lapi; complete with a little dance of his brow. "What do you mean Parsley is missing? Parsley Chalk?" he finally asks, breaking the silence and leaving the lapi's question unanswered.
Aviri nods quickly. "Yes, Chalk. Parsley -herb- not missing." His eyes dart around again, this time at the people of the gypsy camp around them. "Not at pickup," he says suddenly, as if the first part of the sentence had been spoken aloud. "Usually at pickup, not today. I go find her."
"Oh! Right. She was at the Secret Pie Club," Gunther says as he rolls his eyes. "I suppose if you were supposed to be meeting Parsley you're not helping invaders this time."
Aviri's head twitches in a way that might be taken for a nod of thanks to the Kadie and steps slowly away, once again muttering quietly under his breath about the various effects of certain plants, the name 'Parsley' thrown in there a few extra times obviously not referencing the plant.
"But I didn't say you could go," Gunther points out and raises a finger for emphasis. "Just where are you going to find her, hmm?"
Aviri Chalk's uncertain walk stops. "What power have you?" he says quickly. "Parsley not here. She with others. Others in town. Parsley being in town is probable." His tone is slower, now, as if stepping through the logical deduction so that an idiot could understand. Those with more contact with Aviri would realize that he is, indeed, calling the Kadie an idiot.
"You would be wrong," Gunther remarks rather dryly. "And presumptive, and not observant since I made it plain I saw her recently and thus probably know where she is. As for what power I have..." His sentence stops right there when another voice adds itself to the conversation, "None in my camp." That voice is softer, feminine, and carries the air of not being questioned.
Aviri Chalk's ears twitch slightly at the new voice, but he only half-turns to keep Gunther in view. Other than that, a slight un-hunching of his shoulders is the only indication he knows a second person has joined the conversation.
"Vou have bothered the child enough'" it continues as a cloaked feline seems to almost appear behind Gunther (through granted she did step out from behind one of the wagons). It's almost impossible to make out any of her features since her own coloration is near-black, save for the green eyes looking down at both of them from under her hood. "All of ze town are velcome in my camp; I haf made dis clear. I am not in de habit of repeatin' m'self. Do I haf to repeat m'self, Gunther?"
Gunther's fur sticks out in every direction, including his tail. What once was kadie is now a giant ball of fluff with twitching eyebrows. "Ah no!" the kadie blurts right before he disappears in a flurry of feet and dust. Wow, he's fast.
"E' means vell, Aviri," the newcomer says (and yes, she pronounces his name correctly). "E' is just a bit ... overzealous. Don' judge 'im too harshly."
Aviri bobs his head a half-dozen times quickly to the feline. "Th-thank you," he says, his mannerisms relaxing somewhat; the satchel once again hangs more or less freely at his side. "I t-try not to judge. Observe and remember. Avoid. But not judge." He gives a slight, uncertain smile. "Y-you know my name?"
A small smile, betrayed only by the thin line of white teeth between lips escapes the confines of her cloak. "I kno' everyone vho pass through m' camp. It voul be remiss if I did no' I am Natasha and des are my people," she not-explains, then gestures to the ragtag collection of colorful people and wagons. "Vou may come an go in peace. I hop' vou find vour frien'," she says. "She danced beneath' the echo of de stars dis day, but she has since left its memory. I know not vere her path may now be."
The lapi takes a step away from the cloaked figure, his eyes darting around both her and the camp. "Thank you again," he says, his voice back to its quick pace. "What is your name?"
"Natasha," the feline answers as she turns to leave. "Any of de camp kin guide you to me if vou ever need t' seek me out. Or de unusual child of de veaver clan coul' as vell."
Aviri nods quickly. "Right, so you said," he says. "I am in your debt, Natasha," he says. Bobbins his head a few more times he turns and quickly makes for the bridge, hoping to avoid any other interactions before he reaches Parsley.
Once across the bridge, the Lapi is in fairly calm territory. To the north is the edge of the cultivated fields, and to the south a barrier of trees hiding the swamp. Just being the trees are the Akwavi docks, marked by the shack with a big sign on top reading 'Oggton Bote Rentils' and.. well, it looks like the hind end of an otter on the shack's counter, with the rest presumable hanging down inside the shack.
Aviri Chalk is indeed more relaxed, the satchel once more free and bouncing, though his quick gait is worse for the wear, and his head is shifting a bit more than usual as if expecting -Gunther-, not death, to leap out of any corner. As Parsley Chalk is not readily visible, he turns south toward the swamps, not seeming to care how close to the docks he gets.
Sensitive ears pick up the tell-tale sounds of snoring from the shack as Aviri gets closer. The odor of fish battles with the general decayed scent of the swamp itself, but most locals are used to that. The shoreline is gentle, with many plants still growing in the shallows. The close trees provide shaded areas, where certain plants grow that have useful properties - like Worriwort, which makes for a very calming tea when prepared properly. It likes to grow in the shade of the cageroot trees that grow at the edge of the swamp.
The nervous Lapi seems to notice the shack and otter for the first time and gives both a wide berth, muttering something about 'enough socializing' as he descends into the swamp. He slows to a more calm, steady pace as his chances of a random encounter drop lower, and his twitchiness receeds as he gets surrounded by nature, even nature as ugly and dangerous as a swamp.
It is a pleasant area. The leaves of the trees break up the sunlight into a blanket of dapples that cover everything. The water, the moss and vines.. the towel and leather shorts and halter. The fallen nest of a creen, still with the shards of colorful eggs inside. The splash of a fish nearby, its location betrayed by ripples. And the humming of the person under one of the cageroot trees, possibly harvesting worriwort. Aviri's worriwort!
Aviri, his calm, almost fluid motions a stark contrast to his mannerisms not too long ago, speeds up as he hears the humming, his free hand (the one not stabilizing the satchel) curling up to his chest as if searching for something with which to writhe. "Hellohello," he calls quickly forward, his eyes automatically searching for his worriwort, knowing that whatever patch might be growing would be growing near enough to the invader that social interaction is a must. At least it's not in the hustle of a camp or town.
The humming stops, and an otter swims out from under the cageroots, pushing a floating wicker basket full of worriwort plants. And not just any otter, but the only blond otter in Stonebarrow: Midge Sniffler. "Hellooo!" she chirps back, staying in the water with just her head and shoulders exposed, her long mutant hair floating around her. "Oh! Hi there! I'm Midge," she introduces herself. "You probably know that though. I mean, like.. most people know about me. I don't know you though. Or do I? I mean, it's not that I think bunnies all look alike or anything! It's just that I can't remember everyone, you know? You aren't here to swim are you? I don't see Chalks swimming very often. Except for that one time Parsley got a bunch of the girls together to go test out these Gypsy boys. But I didn't go with 'em! I mean, it'd been a long day, you know? And that sort of thing is more for the Oggtons anyway, really. Do you have any cheese on you?"
Aviri's right ear twitches, but other than that he remains silent a while after the question. "No," he says finally, "no cheese. Not here to swim; here for that. Worriwort. Calming effect when brewed properly. You've seen Parsley. Know where she is right now?"
"Oh, well, of course I've seen Parsley, why.. we were Frog Maidens together!" Midge notes proudly. "But not, like.. today.." the otter admits. "Oh, you like worriwort too? I use a lot of it. I make it into a special bread, that I make sandwiches with, that I give to Emmett Oggton so he'll fall asleep and I can swim around and get more worriwort without him flirting and chasing me and all. Clever, huh? Did you want some of mine though?"
"Clever," the Lapi agrees monotonously. "Hookey is but one use of it. You leave some growing, or take it all?"
"Well, I gathered it all from these three trees," the otter admits. "But that's all! It should last a few days!" She nudges her basket towards shore with her nose. "I could get some more if you want! What's your name?"
Aviri looks deeper into the swamp, as if searching for more cageroot trees. His eyes still unable to pierce the folaige of the swamp, he returns his attention to the otter. "Aviri Chalk," he says finally. "You not mind sharing the 'wort? I'm late for delivery; Parsley's late, too. Everyone late." He shakes his head quickly. "No burden yourself with my worries, though. You cannot spare, do not spare. Go back to work afore Emmett wakes. I get my own. If you no spare."
"Oh my," Midge says, and webbed fingers rise up to cover her cheeks. "A virile Chalk! Is.. that just a boast, or are you flirting with me?" the otter asks, her ears blushing. "You can have some of my worries.." she giggles, and nudges the basket towards shore.
The Lapi blinks suddenly, his right ear twitching again. "Virile," he says quickly. "Fertile, procreative, 'lusty' ... I made no such claims. No intention to flirt. Merely that I didn't want you to go through extra work for my need." He stops talking abruptly and waits.
Midge stares at him, hands still on cheeks, as her brain churns through the exposition. "Can you.." she starts to ask, then looks uncertain. "Did you hit your head or anything? It's like you've got words stuck in your throat and you're tryin' to spit them out. Did you swallow a frog? They say that Ducky was frightened by a frog as a baby, and that's why he only talks in quacks now."
Shaking his head in twitchy motions, Aviri says, "I don't remember such thing. Do you have enough 'wort to share -and- decieve your boss?"
"Oh, Emmett's not my boss!" the otteress claims, and pushes the basket the rest of the way with her tail. "He's just grabby! So I play pranks on him sometimes. I'm sure he likes the attention!"
"Midge--you--have not answered my question," Aviri observes. He continues after a brief intake of breath. "Is imperitive to planning the rest of my day. Have you enough worriwort to give me some and still have enough for your own plans?"
The otter looks from the rabbit to the basket she pushed to him. "Well, how much do you need? Is that enough?" she asks, pointing the basket. "What's.. impervative mean?"
Aviri doesn't look at the basket. "More than enough," he says. "Imperative: Necessary, required. Unavoidable." He pauses, again quite aburptly, once again waiting for her to reply.
"All of those, or just like.. one at a time?" Midge asks, scratching an ear now. "I guess you can take what you need then. Glad to help with your imperanecessity without you having to get wet."
Bobbing his head a few times and thanking the otter an equal amount, Aviri scoops a dozen or so leaves from the basket and slips them into a side-pocket of the satchel. After thanking Midge again, he says, "What about my earlier words implied I was boasting about virility?"
"When I asked your name," Midge notes. "You answered that you were A Virile Chalk, right?"
Aviri laughs suddenly, a sudden shocking noise from the creature. "No," he says, "Aviri. It's my name. A-Vi-Ri."
"Oh!" Midge says, and snorts in laughter herself. "I thought maybe your parents just had really high hopes for you or something!"
"Yeeeeees," Aviri says, his right ear twitching slightly again. "I can see how you'd think that. Just like one might think your parents thought you might fly." He brushes something off his shoulder with a quick motion, disguising the single backward step he took.
"Oh, they named me that because I have a short attention span!" Midge claims. "Or because I was brightly colored. I think? It was a long time ago. Anyway, thanks for not stealing my clothes! Oh, and please don't tell Emmett about any of this?"
Aviri tilts his head and asks, "Who's Emmett?" The smile on his face indicates he knows exactly who she's talking about.
"Well he's.. aha!" Midge says, tapping her nose as she figures things out. "I'm off to gather some more leaves!" she notes, and then dives under the water.. except for her hair, which shows her path back into the roots.
Aviri rights his head and mutters something about "Could've gotten my own leaves" before turning and heading back toward the town, his nervous twitch fading as he leaves the otter but returning as he nears the town.
The edge of the village proper is marked less by the cobbled street than by the swinging sign for The Frog And Peach tavern and inn, behind which are the rentable cottages - generally used by treasure seekers making an attempt on the Barrow, but recently let out to various visitors from far off places. The general store is across from the tavern, and the town proper spreads out beyond. From here, it's a clear view to the fountain with the statue of Yewberry. And the streets are, as usual, busy with Skeeks doing business.
One would think after living his whole life in the area, Aviri Chalk would be used to the town. However, he has the demeanor of a poorly-trained spy inside the enemy's capitol. With his ears subconsciously lowered, he tries to blend in with the more regular denizens of the town. He is forced to keep his head up, his twitchy nervous eyes always searching for Parsley. Her name is by far the most commong thing not muttered under his quiet breath.
There are a few other Chalks running about. Nobody ever seems to just walk in Stonebarrow, after all. Nobody seems willing to go out of their way to greet Aviri though, which is something of a blessing. And finally, he is rewarded! A familiar white Lapi doe with long blond hair (a mutation, and thus keeping her out of the breeding pool) leaves the bakery with a heavy-looking sack. "Thanks again Scootsy!" Parsley calls back into the shop. "I promise to save you some of the pie this time."
The doe's voice instantly grabs Aviri's attention, and he quickly hurries after her, his ears perking up hick above his head. "Parsley," he calls, subconsciously muttering the effects, taste, and dosages of the seasoning under his breath as he approaches.
Parsley stops at the sound of her name, and looks around until she spots Aviri. "Aviri!" she says with a smile. "You actually came into town. That's very good progress."
Aviri doesn't smile or show any sign of amusement at her comment. "Don't pretend your recent lax in duties is a ploy to get me to interact," he says, proffering the satchel. "Where've you been?" This final question isn't small talk, but an obvious genuine inquiry into her wherabouts.
"Well.. I suppose I was a little late coming back to town," the doe admits. "You weren't on the road when I got there so I thought you'd gone back to the warren. I was going to check after I picked up more baking supplies," she says apologetically.
Aviri says, "I took the time to gather the worriwort, too. Midge ignored my words and gave me a dozen leaves."
"Oh, did that save time?" Parsley asks. "We can drop them off at the inn."
The buck mirrors the question. "Did it save time? I'll never know. And I may as well go with, for all the socializing I've done already. Get it out of my system now, and maybe fate'll be kinder to me in the future.
"
Parsley leads the way back towards the inn, and says, "You really should try to be more social, so that you don't go crazy. Even the shepherds come into town every so often. Well, most of them do.."
Aviri's right ear twitches dramatically. "Crazy?" he says, his tone indicating the twitch was probably on purpose. "Everyone -else- is crazy. I'm p-perfectly sane." He flattens his ears again and hunchest down into himself, now that Parsley's safely within his sights. "W-who's more crazy? Me, or the people who drink that stuff so th-they won't attack everyone?"
"Some of my best friends need that tea," Parsley notes. "I really should start slipping it into their meals," she mutters. "Anyway, you ought to be proud about making someone's day more peaceful. Don't you think about that?"
A blur of an otter goes running through the town. He skids a bit then darts around the inn. Not a few seconds later a familiar small gray kadie is hot on his heels! "Come back here, Jack! If Jack is even your real name," Gunther shouts. He too disappears around the side of the inn.
"I'm n-not complaining about my job. Plants are my l-life," Aviri says. "Midge bakes it into a bread...." his voice stops as the aparitions appear and vanish.
"I'll have to get her recipe," Parsley says, pausing to make sure the blurs aren't followed by explosions. When nothing more happens, she continues on into the inn. "You might talk to that Jack fellow sometime," she suggests. "He's been all over the world. Probably tried all sorts of herbs and drugs too. Seems the sort."
A matronly Skeek woman mans the bar, breaking into a bit smile at the approach of the Lapis. "Ah, Parsley! What can I do for you?" Appela Streusel asks.
Aviri stops well short of the bar and mutters, "I thought I -didn't- have to do this end of the jobs" before hesitantly following Parsley, glaring daggers into the back of her skull.
"We have the worriwort leaves for the Chevalier's.. tea," Parsley notes, and turns to Aviri, holding out her hand for the leaves.
The buck obediently hands her the bag. "Outer p-pocket," he says.
The leaves are transferred, and the Skeek woman seems to relax just handling them. "This should keep the pig.. err.. Lord Chevalier.. from rampaging for a while. Thank you again, Parsley."
Aviri doesn't seem to care that she was thanked while he did the work. He fidgets with his hands, now that both are free of the care of leaves, his eyes making careful, jumpy notes of the room about them.
The tavern part of the Frog And Peach is empty at this time of day, since most people are busy and the old-timers haven't shown up yet to complain about the younger generation. Still, there are smells from the kitchen indicating that things are being prepared for later on. "Who is your friend, Parsley?" Appela asks.
"This is Aviri. He's the one that actually gets the herbs and spices and such," Parsley explains. "He's.. a bit shy."
There's noise at the door as another figure walks in. Tall for a Kadie, with black fur and equally sable hair, the lithe form of Morgan might look like the entryway lost its shadow if not for his purple dress, long, hooded velvet cloak, and iconic witches hat. The youngest of the witches has been uncharacteristically absent these last few months, his presence an increasing rarity where as before he seemed almost supernaturally ominipresent. "Parsley," he bids in a voice that seems to carry despite its low volume. "Here you are."
Aviri nods--er, twitches his head in greeting to Appela before quickly turning to face the door, backing up a few steps such that both door and bar are in his vision. His ears perk up, wary of what's happening.
"Good day, Morgan," Parsley says, perky as ever. "You've found me! It's the day for people finding me, it seems."
"Of course, here you are," Morgan agrees, head bobbing as he glides up to the ever-jovial chalk. "It seems I'm in need of those herbs somewhat sooner than I anticipated, and of course here you are."
Aviri relaxed an iota as he realizes he's not in immediate danger, either from attack or being addressed. And, it seems this newcommer might need his expertise.
"Oh, the creensbane!" Parsley notes, and holds out Aviri's satchel. "I missed picking it up this morning, but Aviri was able to find me in town."
"Yes, the creensbane," Morgan confirms as he watches the satchel, making no move to take it. "And fresh from Aviri I see. I won't trouble you by using your satchel, but would you mind filling this instead, either of you ..?" Producing a open leather pouch from somewhere under the witch's cloak, Morgan holds it out to be taken, grasped by only his thumb and pointing finger as if it were a delicate thing.
Aviri mutters, "Parsley has the satchel, so..." he leaves the thought unfinished and takes a step back again.
Parsley blinks, and her ears go up, but she opens the satchel and scoops out the contents into the bag. Lots of green flowers get transferred.
Aviri, his ears twitching tremendously, clears his throat and says very quickly, "Anything else you need?"
The satchel is summmarily jiggled Parsley's direction until the filling commences. As the pouch is filled, Morgan asks, "How are the both of you?"
"Well, Clover is going to be coming home soon," Parsley says. "She's almost completely recovered from her.. uh.. accident."
As Aviri's question wasn't answered, he decides to answer the question posed to him (or the bartender), again with much twitching of his ears and a visible struggle of courage. "Well," he manages to say. "Busy."
"I'm relieved to hear it," the young man says, nodding. He then nods towards Aviri as well, adding, "The sagebrush has been in the decline this year. Chill from the north will necessite an early harvest. I suspect Bosch may be expanding its boarders as well, which will be problematic for a few others as well, as you well know."
Aviri intones quickly, "Sage, prevent infection, stops bad bleeding. Good for colds, headaches. Do not give to humans. Aromatic. Can be dried upside-down." He nod/twitches. "Will remember to get some soon. Stockpile."
Morgan snaps the fingers of his free hand. "Perfect; excellent!" Turning back, he his gazes lingers on the bag ofcreensbane a moment before he nods, the pouch vanishing again under his cloak. "Well then, I won't keep you."
"I think I use sage in some of my cooking," Parsley notes.
Aviri says to Parsley. "Sage. Mildly poisonous to humans. Sick for days." He twitches. "Good smell, though."
"Well, take care Morgan," Parsley says. "Be careful with... whatever it is you're doing."
"Of course," the sable Kadie whispers. "Give my regards to your family, and you may wish add, if the mood takes you, that a certain someone may think to avoid playing around the second barrow by the standing stone." After inclining his head to the two, the young man makes his way out as quietly as he arrived.
"Well.. that's it for deliveries then," Parsley notes, once the witch is gone. "What do you want in return, Aviri?"
"R-return?" Aviri asks, glancing at the bar. "F-five, as I didn't myself forage worriwort. G-give Midge one for me, please."
"If that's what you want," Parsley says, and removes the coins from her apron. "Do you actually spend any of this in town?" she has to ask.
Aviri accepts the coins, which vanish into a pocket of his clothes. "Spend? On wh-what?" He smiles slightly. "You are r-right, of course. I need to ... work on being social. N-none of that 'Cold Shower' stuff though."
"Well.. maybe some worriwort tea for yourself instead?" Parsley suggests. "Just to make you a bit less.. rabbity.."
The buck-rabbit's head twitches in negative. "N-no. Need to have head clear. Need to know plants. Need to work. Yellowbark. Small pieces, good for grinding."
"That's the thing, Aviri," Parsley says, "being social is.. not like working. You aren't supposed to be work all the time."
Aviri says quickly, "But others n-need me. Need p-plants. I get them, give th-them. F-for help." He pauses, backs up, his ears drooping. His bright blue eyes closing, opening. "Maybe (I don't know why I'm saying this) I c-could be with y-you on drops, a-and learn that way?"
"Of course!" Parsley says, putting an arm around the buck. "I can introduce you to everybody! Then you'd know more about who you were helping! Let's head back to the warren now - I need to drop off this yeast, or we won't have any fresh bread for dinner tonight."