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[h2][color=darkorchid][i][b]Victoria Belmont[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=9932cc]Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3[/color][/b][/i]
[color=9932cc][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 23 / 23	[color=9932cc][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 15	[color=9932cc][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=9932cc][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Wagon, driving westward
[color=9932cc][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=9932cc][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=9932cc][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A 
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[right][img]https://i.ibb.co/JB2rqXW/Victoria-FC-3.jpg[/img][/right]
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	A warm smile formed effortlessly across Victoria's face (as if it naturally belonged there as a permanent feature) when Kosara climbed up onto the driver's bench. The enthusiasm which she showed at the prospect of wagoneering practice was heartwarming. Victoria was ever the fan of picking up new pieces of knowledge and appreciated when others around her showed the same inclination. The magic-bearing Tiefling showed a desire to not just be the person in the driver's seat, but actually absorb the knowledge that was presented her. This made the young half-fey happy. Despite inclinations to win over crowds and put on stellar performances, Victoria felt she would always have a stigma associated with her and the specific talents she possessed. Having someone who [i]knew[/i] what she was and still be excited to share a seat so closely with her was comforting. 

	Being as this was supposed to be a teachable moment, Victoria attempted to assume a more headmistress-ly quality to her voice and mannerisms. She failed, of course. The words were a little too warm and a touch happier than they ought to have been. But it was a noteworthy and humorous attempt. [color=9932cc]"Take the reins now, okay?"[/color] She motioned at other folk about town, singling out a man who appeared to be a merchant or shopkeeper of some kind who was about to set off in their own pulled conveyance. She pointed out the local method of getting the animals to move, be it a motion with the reins, one-syllable utterance, or both. Beasts trained to the harness tended to have similar signals for obedience, though variations existed. [color=9932cc]"Other than that, it's about knowing what your wagon can or can't do, and small corrections [i]only when necessary[/i]. The hard part is knowing when."[/color] Animals, especially horses and mules, were pretty good at handling themselves around big obstacles when attached to a wagon. Other times, Victoria might have sworn they were as dumb as a sack of flour. 

	As their trip set off, the itinerant Bard was a little nervous as Kosara brought them through the open gates leaving the fort town of Darenby, admittedly giving a suggestion or two with more nervousness in her voice than she wished to show. But everything came out okay. This didn't stop her from breathing out a sigh of relief when they were out into relatively open ground. This, she kept quiet. [color=9932cc]"You're doing great!"[/color] she assured. 

	Victoria took note of who decided to climb into the wagon and who did not, making an attempt to keep herself available for conversation as she was able to. Priority went to instructing Kosara, of course; otherwise social availability was a strength which she exercised religiously. Brief words about home from a couple of them, which naturally made her think of her own. First, she took a note from Marita. Given the interesting backstory and her own sense of curiosity, she was piqued. Kathryn's origins based upon descriptions gave her some suspicions; probably closer to her home city than anyone else's here. Kosara's she knew, more or less, from style of dress and dances. Plus she told everyone outright. Then desert native said a couple of things which made Victoria stop her train of thought with a muffled crash. [color=9932cc]"Festival of anim... Kind of."[/color] She glanced to Morty in the back of the wagon, continuing, [color=9932cc]"My Morty took that walk not too long ago. They're being taken to a butcher to be smoked and/or cured to feed families over the winter. Properly preserved, those pigs can last all year. Maybe longer. If we're ever at a point that we're starving, Morty might even be able to save our lives."[/color] She smiled. This was probably not the best case scenario for her new party to ponder. Practically speaking, it was a versatile resource to have at their disposal. This also explained why the beast did not have the scent of decomposition about it - quite differently, it smelled faintly of bacon and woodsmoke. 

	Apathetic to the words spoken about itself, Morty stood silently in the back of the wagon, its hollow stare seemingly giving no regard to those sitting around it. 

	Continuing with Kosara, Victoria mentioned, [color=9932cc]"Another month or so until we get to winter. I'm not sure exactly when the snows come around here, but back home it would only be a couple more weeks. Five on a warm year."[/color] Being that the weather was progressing a little sooner according to the people back in Darenby, Victoria really had no idea when it might be in Avonshire. [color=9932cc]"As for the snowmen..."[/color] Her smile turned to mischief, [color=9932cc]"I don't think that happens naturally. But we're both distinguished ladies of The Weave. I'm sure we can figure out something."[/color]

	Shifting to the side and looking back in the wagon, Victoria followed up on a piece of conversation she had taken note of just earlier. [color=9932cc]"My home is a journey north from here. Buildings, big houses, walls. Libraries. Trade; lots of trade and influence from many cultures. Trees in parks and along wide streets, manicured by professional gardeners. Four crisp and distinctly separate seasons."[/color] Then taking a point on a specific declaration, she looked dead at Marita. [color=9932cc]"Your home doesn't sound like any place I've been yet. Could you tell me more, please?"[/color]