She smiled as he spoke of the widow who, drenched in floral scents, was visiting the apothecary. "That's good, and nice to know. Maybe the floral scent will grow on you, or perhaps it is not his sense of smell that is driving him?" She was, at heart, quite the romantic about such things and Faith could not help but smile. It was nice when someone who was lonely was able to find someone, she considered. So she had always believed, anyhow, but she knew that her notions were largely romantic. However, she could not help but give a slight smile and nudge him very gently with her elbow "I have not come across the word slathering. Is it a scientific notion?" She was teasing, there was not a doubt about it.
Serious, though, was very quickly the order of the trial when they made their way together and Faith nodded as she listened to Padraig's assessment of the situation as it had happened. It might well not be any bad thing, all told, that he had lost track of that individual, she considered. Especially if running into the alleyway was some kind of a trap for him, which she worried it might well have been and so the devoted young slave prayed her thanks to Famula that this man had been saved from further harm and did not enter in Her domain this trial.
Neither Padraig or Mister Spekkle had been harmed, and Faith was glad, although when they got to the apothecary the owner was obviously very shaken up and the young slave went into the kind of automatic reaction that was ingrained in her. Hot, sweet tea for Mr Spekkle, calm and soothing words to accompany it, spoken in a quiet tone when he needed them and not before, she listened and nodded her head, then asked Padraig to get some parchment and made notes, specifically on what it was that the miscreants had been looking for. When they had that list, she wondered if Mr Spekkle might be able to draw the tattoo which, it turned out, he could. Not great, but good enough.
As he sat, sipping the tea, in came a woman who looked most concerned, very kind and had wafting around her a very strong floral aroma. Faith looked on and as the two of them caught sight of each other and embraced, Faith stepped back and looked to Padraig, unwilling to be part of any messy emotional things. She tapped her pencil to the list and spoke in a whisper, even for her "We have a list of things they were looking for and a design. I'd say the library is the place to start. But maybe tomorrow? We could look after the shop and let him have some time. Let them, in fact?" With Padraig's acceptance of such, they determined that they'd start the investigation on the next trial.
Serious, though, was very quickly the order of the trial when they made their way together and Faith nodded as she listened to Padraig's assessment of the situation as it had happened. It might well not be any bad thing, all told, that he had lost track of that individual, she considered. Especially if running into the alleyway was some kind of a trap for him, which she worried it might well have been and so the devoted young slave prayed her thanks to Famula that this man had been saved from further harm and did not enter in Her domain this trial.
Neither Padraig or Mister Spekkle had been harmed, and Faith was glad, although when they got to the apothecary the owner was obviously very shaken up and the young slave went into the kind of automatic reaction that was ingrained in her. Hot, sweet tea for Mr Spekkle, calm and soothing words to accompany it, spoken in a quiet tone when he needed them and not before, she listened and nodded her head, then asked Padraig to get some parchment and made notes, specifically on what it was that the miscreants had been looking for. When they had that list, she wondered if Mr Spekkle might be able to draw the tattoo which, it turned out, he could. Not great, but good enough.
As he sat, sipping the tea, in came a woman who looked most concerned, very kind and had wafting around her a very strong floral aroma. Faith looked on and as the two of them caught sight of each other and embraced, Faith stepped back and looked to Padraig, unwilling to be part of any messy emotional things. She tapped her pencil to the list and spoke in a whisper, even for her "We have a list of things they were looking for and a design. I'd say the library is the place to start. But maybe tomorrow? We could look after the shop and let him have some time. Let them, in fact?" With Padraig's acceptance of such, they determined that they'd start the investigation on the next trial.
