In the wake of Zopha's profanes, the fomenting desire to say something untoward surged up in Leif's throat. He sealed the words behind his teeth and pressed his lips into a smile while ruffling a hand through his hair. If only Marris knew where his irreverence arose from, perhaps she would've taken a little mercy on him. After all, growing at Zopha' heels taught him a great many things about the world but it also left room for speculation. While they passed through hamlets and cities with shrines dedicated to the Primarchs, Zopha insisted they only stay long enough to stock up on their supplies. 

Leif knew the celestial patrons through stories woven by a teaspinner's mystifying voice, and from the walls of libraries lined with musty book stacks thrice his size. But it was the Hero's Journey which nestled deep within his heart, and he never tired of hearing of Adelesta's Heroking. A particular passage sprang to mind of the covenant formed between the Priamrchs and the Hero, but Zopha's shuttered eyes and drawn lips spoke of little patience for further discussion. Understanding tempered the restlessness in Leif's chest as he pushed back from the table with the promise to gather their dishes. 

Zopha gave a short nod, rising out of her chair as well to sweep across the room toward the pair of beds pressed against the far right wall. For a moment, Leif listened to the rustling fabric as she searched through her pack and thought this was the closest he''d seen to Zopha's agitation. Ordinarily, she would take sudden changes without uttering a single response or a show of frustration and quickly set into finding a solution to their newest predicament. He could rely upon her telling him their plans once she'd had a moment to think, and oftentimes waited patiently unless other matters required their immediate attention. 

As he moved swiftly about the table, gathering their dishes with soft clinks and clacks, he could still feel the shockwaves of Zopha's displeasure in her commandant the hostility radiating off her toward Arus. 

Was there something I missed?

Leif weighed the merit of thrice bearing ear to accounts against the Goddess. Coltham's ambivalence could have been considered along the lines of heresy but the codger was known for his skepticism to the beliefs his neighbors held. Marris' insistence upon reverence was expected of a Yun-Feian but fearful in a way Leif couldn't quite put his finger on. 

And Zopha… 

He glanced over his shoulder at Zopha and stiffened up when he noticed her holding up various glass bottles between her fingers. Their contents sloshed around in a myriad of colors from reds to yellow and blues. Implications of why she thought they would need those flashed through his mind, but he pointedly looked away when she began to turn her head to avoid showing it on his face. 

There doesn't seem to be a way to make heads or tails of it,  Leif thought as his tail wrapped around another plate, lifting it up to rest atop the stack on his right hand. Once the table was cleared, he eyed the tableware with trepidation as he hadn't the faintest idea of how he'd sneak it back to the kitchens unnoticed either. 

I could ask Zopha, this was her idea after all. But she did do it for me… 

His shoulders fell as he sighed through his nose, considering that he could just attest it to his payment for her unexpected albeit kind gesture. 

Payment… 

"Wait, that's it!" Leif shouted, yelping when one of the plates fell from the haphazard stack. His tail moved to wrap around it before it could hit the ground but deft fingers plucked it out of mid-air.  The sudden curl of tension in his stomach loosened up as the dish was set atop of the stack before half of it was removed from his hand, allowing him to tuck his elbow closer to his side. Zopha held the dishes in one hand, glancing up at him then shaking her head whe she flashed his best charming grin - one that oftentimes got him out of trouble, as quickly as it got him into it. 

"What's it?" She asked, running her gaze over him for anything else that could be a hazard before meeting his gaze.

Leif snickered, looking slightly abashed until he recovered his composure. "Folks in Yun-Fe consider their livestock as part of the family," he said. His mind conjured the tearful reunion between Svet and Alan, the boy's heartfelt thanks for the wayward sheep's still set warmly within his chest. "They're given burials as any other soul aught, and it just so happens that I owe the cart peddler a favor."

Zopha's stare sharpened into a cutting glare, and Leif gulped reflexively. "You didn't report a debt owed."

"Well, technically I don't owe one," Leif hedged nervously, his tail waving the white handkerchief nestled in the empty bread basket as a show of surrender. He wilted under the pressure from Zopha's stare. "Honestly, I tried to pay him but he's stubborn as a goat."

Reminds me of someone else I know.

"I-I just figured this was a way to sew a heckler's lips twice."

Zopha took a small step closer, and Leif braced himself until he heard a soft puff. Something warm and slightly heavy rubbed gently against the top of his head in a way that almost made him feel petted. It took a second before he realized Zopha was actually petting him and warmth trickled up from his neck to the tips of his ears.  When she withdrew her hand, the barest hint of a smile was there on her lips as the afternoon sun spread across her shoulders. 

"Did you remember to say please and thank you?" She asked with a shade of fondness coloring her voice. 

Why does this feel familiar?

Leif brushed her hand aside with a bashful grumble before he drawled, "But of course, I was cordial and used all my manners like a good lad."

He winced when his cheek was seized in a sharp pinch and pulled. A chanting murmur of ow being drowned out by her dry commentary, "You know what I meant, you little rascal. You know how important reputations are to this line of work. Even if our business isn't the cleanest, it's no excuse for becoming an utter reprobate." 

Leif snickered, rubbing his smarting cheek when she let go. "I'm the perfect cast from my mother," he said, chortling as he ducked out from under Zopha's reach. The dishes swayed precariously and he hurriedly righted himself before they could teeter out of his hands. Flashing a grin as he gestured to his burdens, he continued, "Let's not fight amongst ourselves now. I have my hands full enough already trying to think of a way to sneak these back."

"There's no need," Zopha began, taking her first steps toward the door with her burdens tucked in the crook of her arm. She opened the door, rounding the door henge with Leif at her heels. 

"Hang on a moment, what do you mean there's no need?" Leif called after her, shutting the door then rapping his knuckles against the lanthorn. Inside, he heard a sputtering like the drag of a match producing only a few pitiful sparks and whispered hurriedly against the brass,  "We're leaving now, Sipha! Watch over the place!"

He pushed off the wall and jogged after Zopha as quickly as his burdens allowed. Her footfalls guided him down the winding staircase and as they broke past the sound barrier, the ruckus from the first floor floated up to meet his ears. Laughter bubbled up from Leif's throat when he noticed Zopha's wrinkled nose and narrowed eyes as he stepped abreast with her. 

"Are you sure they should see you?" He whispered to her, but she merely glanced in his direction and rolled her eyes.

"I doubt they would pay much mind," she said, taking a step ahead and making her way to the bar counter. 

Leif thought to argue with her but scratched a hand through his hair, ultimately deciding it wouldn't be worth the breath. He followed after her, examining the floor with a cursory glance. While the crowd had partially thinned out, there was a hearty number of patrons still seated at the tables with their assortment of merrymaking to distract from the pair making their way to the bar counter.  Amongst the sea of bodies, Leif noticed Marris sailing by with a serving platter. She flashed smiles and turned around at the calls to her name,  incidentally locking eyes with Leif when she twirled.

She tipped her head, giving him a once-over before her eyes slid to the right and he knew well enough that she'd caught sight of Zopha. When her eyes returned to him, he'd almost expected a question but instead she flashed a smile and went back to helping the attendants around her. Leif scrunched his nose, brow raised as he was left adrift. 

What was that supposed to mean? 

"All done, miss?"

Leif turned his head over his shoulder in time to see the barkeep exchanging words with Zopha. Her pile of dishes were set neatly atop of the counter before she began undoing the cuffs on her sleeves, rolling them up to the elbow. "Thank you for allowing me to use your kitchens," she said, and Leif's eyes nearly fell from his skull when the barkeep nodded welcomingly with a small smile of his own. "Please, allow me to take care of these in return." 

"Nevermind that," the barkeep said, waving her off with his dish rag balled up in hand. "Marris pitched in a good word for ye both, and little Leif here has been a fine help around town. Besides, ye already paid a thief's ransom for those ingredients ye used."

Zopha folded her arms across her chest, and Leif could see the words on her face before they'd left her mouth, "I insist."

The barkeep's friendly smile faltered as he sputtered to try and find another placation, but the back and forth exchange continued to no avail. Once he considered the back and forth to have gone on for too long, Leif swung his arm around Zopha's shoulders and laid a hand on the bar as a makeshift barrier between the two.  

"There's no use in arguing with her, Guthale," Leif explained, cupping his hand around his mouth as he leant forward to mock whisper,  "Do it as a favor, won't you?"

Guthale's mouth hung open as he struggled to find the words and Leif laughed softly when the barkeep realized he'd been beaten and hung his head. "Alright," he muttered hesitantly. The rag landed on the bar with a wet thump as Guthale walked to the open windoway behind the bar where the clanging of pots and pans could be heard. As he slipped past the hanging door curtain, Leif could have sworn he heard him mutter, "Milo will be happy t'know yer coming back anyhow."

Milo the Cook? 

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought Leif back to his senses, and he let his arm fall from Zopha's shoulder when he spied her flicking a glance in his direction. "I thought you said the kitchens were empty when you used them," he said, setting a hand on his hip with a questioning look.

"They were," Zopha answered, and Leif inclined his head with a disbelieving frown when she offered little else. After a beat and a happy shout echoing from beyond the doorway was drowned out by the patron's chatter,  she continued, "I offered to prepare meals for the staff, and in return, they allowed me to use what I wanted from the kitchens. I paid a sum to keep them from losing out too much from their generosity." 

Admittedly, the image of Zopha waiting hand and foot wasn't one he could easily envision but he supposed it made sense. For her cooking to have gone from abysmal to delicious in the weeks they'd resided in Yun-Fe, of course she would have gotten outside help. After all, she did nothing by halves and threw her all into what interested her. 

But how long has she been testing her cooking on them? 

"What did you think I did?" 

Leif blinked, smiling nervously when the fullness of Zopha's gaze was upon him. He waved his hands rapidly, trying to find a way to explain without garnering her wrath. 

Maybe this is recompense for not stepping in for Guthale sooner.

His smile disappeared entirely when something quickly approached his face from below, and he snatched it out of the air.  A small, leather bag hung from his fingertips by its braided strap, and as he turned it over to open the pocket - a stone carved with a wave-like pattern, several phials filled with liquid of varying shades, and a small helping of coal faintly giving off a red glow greeted him inside. The smell of cedar, and sweet grass wafted up to his nose until he sealed the pocket shut.

"When I'm done here, I'll follow after you," Zopha said. "And Leif, remember—"

"Y'know," Leif interjected, leaning down to tie the braided strap around his thigh. He peeked up at her through the breaks in his hair and smiled, "It's not like you to worry so much…"

Bouncing up onto the balls of his feet, he swung toward her and draped his arm around her shoulders. "I'll be fine," he said, pressing his head against hers with a squeeze to her upper arm. "Promise." 

She didn't return the hug, nor shrug him off, but he felt her gaze long after he left her side.