[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/190912/3e9b4b8109c9597d89b544bbe77877a6.png[/img][/center]

He hadn't expected a smile in return, or for her to accept the circumstances as is, but she appeared the finer for both as she walked down the dock. [Color=aba000]"A lay hand is one that has yet to learn. A willingness to act is all it takes."[/color] X'gihl muttered beneath his breath. His lips curled again, as they did much today. Every time the privateer turned, it seemed something or other was moving at his heart. For this woman and her choice, he was overjoyed. [Color=aba000]"Thank you."[/color]

Hard work was a valuable thing, the way X'gihl was raised. Your actions carried your weight and that of others. If one didn't know how to perform a function, experience became a fine teacher. Persistence, its pet. Together, they forged fine laborers, and labor was exactly what furthered the goals of the many, what made those who learned into competent workers. In that same vein, X'gihl observed that the lancer had removed her hand's armor. Once hidden, now laid bare were a pair that had clearly seen much and more of a fair share. [color=aba000][i]Calluses and scars. This one may be a pleasure yet.[/i][/color] 

Turning those thoughts aside the same as the previous ones, X'gihl brought his flask up for a swig and refocused himself. A boat was coming in with a large haul of fish as the fisherman spoke of Lyveva and Aidric's situation growing up. He stepped forward to do his part in guiding it into port as the fisherman took its lead. Once in place, the lancer moved quicker than he had, but he followed her lead all the same. Plunging hands into the nets against the squirming fish within to get a firm grip, he awaited her count and heaved with her to bring the fish to the cart. 

While the adventurers handled their side, the fisher had continued his conversation. X'gihl listened with half an ear, considering it fortunate that the lancer had opened the dialogue in his place. [Color=aba000][i]Orphans. Many and more like them these days. Still a shame. Wonder how? Blond hair, Highlander, roughly early twenties. Another refugee from the Mad King's War?[/i][/color] Maybe not. But a similarity he couldn't quite deny. Yet it was none of his business, and unlikely something Lyveva would want to be asked about. No, sleeping griffons should be left to lie.

[I]Chocobos[/i] on the other hand, were a different matter. X'gihl scanned his surroundings while the fisher and lancer conversed, and while tasks further down the docks seemed to he getting taken care of, the sounds of "warks" and "kwehs" came from the front of the wagon that the adventurers had just loaded, along with a voice that sounded irritable. Turning his head that direction, X'gihl observed the two chocobos meant to pull it seemed to be slipping from their saddles one at a time while the poor groom was trying to secure them back in place. The privateer let out a short chuckle and tapped his companion on the shoulder for her attention. He pointed a thumb toward the chocobos and began walking that direction, hoping the message would be clear to her. [I]I'll be up there if you need me.[/i]

[Color=aba000]"Seems the birds want themselves a game. Might I offer you a hand, lad? Offer a scratch, mayhap?"[/color] X'gihl asked the groom upon approach.