Yardie (prime)/Cobweb
When Yardie entered the Stumbling Pebble II, he saw his apprentice, Medijine, her breathing ragged. Her coppery skin was blanched, giving the constellation of freckles on her puffy cheeks a ruddy glow. She had a silk black cloak draped over her shoulders. With eyes wide as saucers, she looked up at the Faendryl as he sat across from her and lowered his hood. She cupped a glass of ice water, ashy knuckles trembling as she moved to speak. “Mr…Ya—”
“Spinnerette,” Yardie addressed her as he always had, his voice soft but firm,” take a breath.” Yardie gestured with his hand like a conductor guiding her into a dulcet melody when she did. “Relax. Take a drink of water.” As she followed his instruction, Yardie never showed overt emotion, but the small crinkles in his gaze and the thinly-veiled smirk were obvious as he regarded his apprentice with amusement. Once her breathing quelled, Yardie nodded. “Now. How can I help you?”
Medijine took another sip, then pointed at the counter. A cracked voice only sharpened her accent. “I saw someone match Administrator Zofiya’s note.”
Yardie pursed his full lips. “Go on.”
Medijine ran her thumb over a nearly broken fingernail. “I snuck around island while you and Draelor busy. Practice. After I pretend find krolvin, I see someone with red and orange cloak like note say. I try follow.” She lowered her head, afraid to look at the Faendryl. “I lose them.”
It was Yardie’s turn to control his breathing, the excitement of a clue triggering his professional instinct. “Where? In the jungle?”
Medijine shook her head, rustling tufts of puffed-up hair. “In town.”
Yardie let out a slow exhalation. The others needed to know about their unidentified vandal. But a new thought germinated in his paranoia-filled brain, creasing his brow. “Were you seen?”
Medijine paused, her answer held like the dangling teardrop clinging to her mahogany eyelash. She shook her head, but aftershocks of jitters formed goosebumps on her thin arms.
Yardie rose from his seat and then scooted next to the young apprentice he had reluctantly accepted, her refusal to lead a normal life consumed by revenge. “Rather dangerous and daring, my little Spinnerette. Let us hope you were not spotted, yeah?”
She eased the tension on her shoulders, her arms going slack briefly. Yardie leaned into her, bumping her shoulder playfully as he lightened the mood. “Still, a town of heroes, and you found a major clue. You found someone matching the description in town.” Yardie placed an arm around her. “I’m proud of you.”
She beamed like the sun, the clouds of worry shooed away by his compliment. “Really?”
Yardie nodded. “You did well. Trust your talents. I do. And not to worry. Everyone on the island will keep you and the others safe.” He smiled reassuringly at the young girl. The concrete rose had bloomed from such hardened conditions. His job was to preserve that. He took her hand and examined her fingernails. “We’ll tell the others after I fix your broken nail and feed you some pie.”
She giggled.
Yardie left a stack of silvers for Greth. “Thanks for the water and looking out for her.” With his hand holding hers, Yardie instructed. “Next time, use grey colors for clothing. Neutral colors draw less suspicion, yeah?”
“I remember, Mr. Yardie,” Medijine answered.