[i][b]Flashback, back at the camp[/b][/i]

Warren waited patiently as the mess-cook stirred the contents of his pot.  It bubbled, grooaned, and popped in its cycle.  Finally the cook brought up his ladle and dupped the food into Warren's bowl, sloshing around as it filled up to the brim.  "Thanks," Warren said.

He didn't really want to sit with the rambuncious recruits, so he singled out a few chairs which were unoccupied and made his way over to them.

Floure slipped into the mess-tent quietly and for once she tried not to draw any attention to herself, which was near impossible being one of the few women in camp combined with the way she dressed. When she entered a couple of recruits turned their heads to look at the new arrival. They whispered amongst themselves and tried to make eye contact with her. Normally she wouldn't shy away from it but her meeting with the commander still had her rattled. It reminded her of the reason she was joining the Black Shields and the fact she wasn't there simply to amuse herself.

The mess-cook was cooking up a stew and serving it to many of the people who entered. Her stomach growled like that of a man and Floure suddenly just how famished she was. A growling stomach would be very undiserable when she was going to work . Not to mention she wouldn't be able to focus on anything but food, so either she had to eat something now or her first customer had to be the most beautiful man she ever saw. 

Floure walked straight up to the kitchen area, snatching an empty bowl from one of the tables when she spotted a familiar face sitting at that exact table. It was the Redsand Butcher! They had traveled together from Broacien to Coedwin while he served as a guard for their caravan. 
Unbelievable. She thought, her eyes widening in surprise. What were the chances she would meet someone she actually knew?

Immediately a sense of relief washed over her, knowing there was a recruit who was at least somewhat familiar to her. The Gods were truly looking out for her and she promised herself to give thanks sooner rather than later, or else her good fortune may end. She quickly went to fill up her bowl and returned setting it on the table quietly. He seemed to be lost in thought and didn't notice her right away. Floure smiled to herself, a playful look on her face, eyes alight with mischief. She took of her colorful scarf and in one quick sweep used it to blindfold the Devil of the Desert.

"Guess who....?" She said, giggling cheerfully. 

"Floure?"  Warren asked, sounding both surprised and relieved, recongnizing the tone of voice.  On one hand at least someone he knew was one.  On the other hand, that someone could only be here for one reason.  "By the Monarch, what on earth are you doing here?"

"Well you tell me..." She replied with a cheeky smile. Floure sat down next to the seasoned warrior to enjoy her stew, well enjoy was too nice of a word. It was food and she was hungry so it didn't need to get complicated. Besides her food was either too spicy or too salty, so she shouldn't be one to complain. 

Hopefully Warren wouldn't truly be able to guess why she'd joined. As far as she knew only the Servants in Coedwin and herself knew about her escape from trial. She did need help if she ever wanted to get back to her family alive but she was threading carefully. 

"I don't know," Warren said, shrugging his shoulders and stirring his stew.  "Figure you're here for... entertainment.  Ain't that your profession?  To entertain folks?"  Warren was just speaking freely.  He felt a little unwinded now that someone he knew was here.  "Unless something happened in Coedwin that made you leave.  I don't know why else you'd come to see all these loons."  Warren lifted his spoon and slurped in some of the stew.

When Warren made mention of Coedwin her heart sank and her usual witty replies were replaced by a solemn silence, something very uncharacteristic for the young woman who was at any given time full of flirtatious smiles and the excessive batting of eyelashes. She did not trust herself to come up with a convincing lie, one that wouldn't eventually come back to bite her in the ass. 

Floure at her stew quietly finding the silence unbearable but couldn't get herself to say much of anything. At least if anything bad happened to her it would be reassuring to know Warren was around. She didn't know him to be anything other than a guard to her caravan, maybe he'd still feel some sort of mild obligation to watch out for her. Then again that could just be her naivity trying to grasp at some sort of familiar face, someone who had her back. How she did miss her family. 

"Floure," Warren said, noticing her sudden solemness, "is something wrong?"  While the young woman wasn't exactly an old friend, his short time with her in Redsand still made him feel somewhat attached to her.  Then again, he became attached to all woman.  In his eyes, women were weak and needed protection, and it was up to the good men of the world to protect them.  "Floure, if something is wrong, you can tell me.  I'm here to help, you have my word."  Warren patted her on the back as a show of compassion.

She felt Warren's hand on the small of her back. His kindness made her want to confide in him. Yet there was still this voice in the back of her mind to be careful. She didn't know who to trust. It would be best to keep her secrets to herself for now, it was safer that way. Floure sighed softly and rubbed her hands together nervously. 

"It's nothing really, I just hate the weather up here.  I'm used to the warm sun of Redsand." She explained, not sounding overly convincing without the usual accompanying smile. The young woman left her stew unfinished and got up from her seat, lifting her skirts in order to ease out of the bench which lined the tables. 

She placed a soft hand on Warren's shoulder, just like he'd done earlier.  "I'll see you soon." She said solemnly. With that she left, dissappearing into the crowds to find a tent of her own.