(no subject)

[taishar_malkier]

One of Nynaeve's herb beds is dying; a complication, perhaps, of trying to grow Valdemaran plants in London Below soil. Nynaeve reacts to difficulties with any patient and any plant rather similarly: with braid-yanking, scowling, and deep irritation with the world at large.

Which means that Lan, despite being immune to most of this irritation, has elected to take the diplomatic course and leave her to stomp around the greenhouse in peace for a while. Instead, he went to practice swordwork by the lake, for his own benefit and that of either of his students who might come by, and has now settled down in the main bar with a cup of wine punch.

And, as ever, an impassive scrutiny of the room at large.

He's wearing his Warder's cloak today, and the magically shifting camouflage makes parts of his back and shoulders appear to blend briefly into the chair and wall behind him.

Comments

[seewhatyoumean.livejournal.com]

Cass shakes her head, frowning as she tries to remember...

Again her voice carries a sense of imitation rather than meaning. "Can't... words."

[taishar_malkier]

Lan nods slowly.

He doesn't entirely understand. But the practicalities are what matter; the rest will come.

"Then I am sorry. I don't know what else you are trying to say." He speaks with the same simple, grave courtesy as he has been.

[seewhatyoumean.livejournal.com]

With a frown of concentration, Cass tries again.

She points at Lan, then gestures at her eyes as if to indicate sight, then points at herself. There's a brief pause to consider before she twists her arm a bit awkwardly to tap her self on her own shoulder, then she points to the back door and drops into a relaxed fighting stance.

[taishar_malkier]

That takes--

oh, all right.

He thinks.

"Another time, perhaps."

[seewhatyoumean.livejournal.com]

The smile that spreads across her face makes her suddenly look her age. She gives Lan an enthusiastic nod and another respectful bow.

[taishar_malkier]

Perhaps covers many eventualities; still, Lan's craggy face lightens infinitesimally in response to her smile. (To Cass's eyes, at least, probably; otherwise, it would take someone who knew him very, very well to spot the shift of expression.)

He returns the bow, touching fingertips briefly to hilt in response to her formality.