<div class="floatleft">(http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab235/bloodiedporcelain/elcharacterpics/childedit1.jpg)</div><em>Solfiria Character Post</em><br/><strong>Time of day beginning post</strong>: 1 pm-ish<br/><strong>Time of day ending post</strong>: 1 pm-ish<br/><strong>Location beginning post</strong>: Outside the Bold Bison<br/><strong>Location ending post</strong>: Outside the Bold Bison<br/><strong>Characters currently interacting with</strong>: Nemea<br/><strong>GM Intervention Request\Required?</strong>No<br/><hr/><br/>When Nemea continued on about Corann, Sol had the distinct urge to throw something at him and tell him to shut up. She didn't give two coppers about whether or not the muscle-bound idiot lived or died... she'd just met him all of an hour or so prior, and had learned enough in that time to figure that he was the type there was no point in worrying over... not that she made it a habit to worry about anyone, as a rule. Solfiria looked after Solfiria and everyone else was on their own... that was the way the world worked. The way it had always been and always would be.<br/><br/>She had paused in her rummaging through her pack and was about to ask him if he had a point he was going to get to any time soon when he suddenly changed topics and told her that people weren't always trouble. Still hunched forward slightly with her arm buried in her pack, she lifted those mismatched eyes slowly to look at him and seemed to consider for a long moment before speaking. "People," she began, chosing her words carefully. "Are careless, cruel, smug, self righteous, ignorant bastards who most times aren't worth the air they breathe. Unfortunately for me, they're also on rare occasion, useful. I come in to town to get supplies. People sometimes have things worth buying that can help me on my travels. Food that I don't have to hunt for, medicines, tonics... new boots." She lifted a pair of boots, the ones she'd bought at Seaside Sal's not long prior.<br/><br/>"Perhaps one day I'll be like you suggest... a..." she paused for a moment, searching her memory for the word. Years of limited contact with people had left her with a somewhat stunted vocabulary and though she'd learned quickly during her travels, she still often found herself pausing to search for a particular word or term. "Hermit. Yes, perhaps one day I will become a hermit. But not yet." Her eyes lifted heavenward, staring up at the roiling clouds overhead. "Not... yet."<br/><br/>Brows drawing together in a frown, she sighed. The storms had pulled her here... she'd followed their call for ages... and now they were just paused, waiting over the town of Dulon's Landing. But why? She couldn't be sure, and it frustrated her. Towns made her nervous... people made her antsy... she wanted out and she wanted out as soon as possible, but here she was... talking to a white haired man who had it in his head that she actually cared about another man who wanted to run himself and all those with him right in to the waiting arms of death itself. All because of those damned clouds.