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"You wear victory well..."
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The man was lost in his own thoughts and did not hear her comments. A fly buzzed against his cheak and he trapped it in his hand. Taking it between his forefinger and thumb he squeezed it and tossed it aside. Looking briefly over his shoulder he realized she was offering him a bag. He coughed in slight disgust at her outstretched hand and would have avoided it entirely if he had not caught the familiar scent of the athelas leaf.
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"Take it lest I force it upon you."
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Her voice held a firmer tone. "That would be interesting," Awyrgan smirked in reply. However he held his hand out over his shoulder even though he would not turn around. With slight 'thump' the rider deftly tossed the bag into his overturned palm. Turning it over in his hand he grinned. "Ah,
asėa aranion." He could sense her surprised look and he laughed. A gruff, but true laugh that was one of the more pleasent of sounds ever to come out of his mouth. The moment passed quickly as a rut in the road caught his foot and a stream of Black Speech poured out from between his clenched teeth.
Hot water would be nice, he thought to himself. Improvising he re-lit his pipe and held one of the leaves over it. The pleasent smell of athelas was soon floating in the air and the scratches began to cease to itch. Placing a few of the leaves in his jacket pocket he turned back to the rider who was staring at him. "Trade secrets," he offered in explanation as he tossed the bag back to her. "I suppose I am now safe from the insects."
[ February 10, 2003: Message edited by: Carrūn ]