[center][color=brown][h2]Sierra Tikaavik[/h2][/color][/center]
[hider=interactions][@Prosaic][@Lord Destro][/hider]

Sierra could only stand and listen, dumbfounded, to the strange conversation between Alder and the newcomer. Her brow furrowed as they tossed around words like “pure blood,” “elf,” and “Entori tribe.” She considered walking away from the weirdness (oh, how her threshold for weird had been so, so exceeded) but visceral curiosity kept her feet in place. In any case, Alder was the most familiar thing she had here. Her journey to Luce Prima had been the longest stretch of time she’d ever been alone: if she had to endure a little weirdness for some company, she’d do it. 

She felt a twinge of discomfort in her stomach when, at the mention of “pure blood,” something dark descended upon Alder. His expression grew cold, distant; Sierra had the feeling that he wasn’t seeing the marketplace anymore, but rather was focusing on something far away, in another place. Another time. Yet something about it was coldly… [i]familiar[/i]. She’d seen the same storm envelop her father at the mention of her mother’s name. 

Alder was different talking to the stranger than he had been with her. He smiled, and acted friendly, but Sierra wasn’t fooled. Even if her heritage didn’t grant her a heightened sense of empathy, she could see it in his eyes. They weren’t angry, or sad either. But they were cold and hard, like a territorial animal standing its ground. Was he scared? Scared but fighting it off with anger? 
Alder said something about his sister, but Sierra wasn’t really paying attention to his words – they weren’t making sense anyway. Instead, she studied his actions: how while his muscular form kept its casual stance, it tensed. He stiffened. He shifted his weight, then shifted again. But whatever was making him uncomfortable, luckily, was not directed towards her. Still, she’d hate to be standing in the newcomer’s (elf’s?) footprints. 

Sierra could relax a little now that she understood. His body could tell her more than his words ever could. 
“…I haven’t met one who hasn’t tried to kill me.”

Sierra whipped back to the conversation, eyes darting between the two men before here. They continued to chat like nothing had happened, and finally Sierra had a reason to tune in. She didn’t think the stranger was talking about her, so that was a plus. Could he have been talking about humans? That seemed more reasonable in her mind. 

The stranger called himself an elf and told of the hardships his people had endured. Had that been at the hands of humans as well, she wondered? After all, her father had told her stories about humans, blinded by rage and bloodlust with torches and silver bullets wiping out entire clans of her kind – it couldn’t be outside the realm of possibility. 

He introduced himself as Leofrick Entoris and just sort of… held his hand out. Was he feeling for the wind? It was such an odd and foreign gesture, Sierra couldn’t help but cock her head a little. Alder didn’t seem to notice, as by then he had turned back to her. Clearly he didn’t want much to do with this Leofrick character. 

The warmth returned to Alder’s expression and he tilted his head, asking, "I believe you were going to ask me something?"
Sierra blinked and looked down at the ground for a moment, having completely lost her train of thought in the midst of all her confusion. 

[color=brown]”Oh, was I?”[/color] she asked, a strained smile splitting across her face. Leave it to her to forget so quickly.

[color=brown]”Heh, I can’t really remember. But uh, you seem to know your way around this place eh?”[/color] She looked around at the overwhelming spectacle that was the marketplace, [color=brown]”Do you know where I can go to get situated?”[/color]