Utterly unsure if his being here was worth his time, Ramir resigned himself to having to find a place to hold up for the night. The Inn was certainly full and he had little interest in sleeping in a gutter somewhere. Besides, it looked likely to rain.
With no direction and little motivation, he plodded away from the tavern and off into whatever part of Wistvale laid in wait.
Ah well, sometimes the worst plans led to the best rewards.
Ama was also wandering the unfamiliar streets of Wistvale in search of somewhere to rest her slightly intoxicated head. She was "singing" something as she went, something about a pirate and the ocean and a moldy loaf of bread. A stray dog ran away, thinking very little of the ditty...or perhaps it was the demon girl's vocal abilities.
Then she noticed Ramir...
"Hey, mister! Yeah, you with the hair. Don't s'pose you know where I can find a bed for the night? I'm having no luck and...I don't know where I'm going."
Ramir stopped in his tracks in response to the words. That was odd. The song had made him grin a moment earlier, but he didn't bother to show it as he turned around. His voice didn't smack with disinterest at least, but he wasn't the excitable type.
"Join the crew. I'm new in town and that Inn is just too crowded. I'm... guessing you've no better idea than I, then?"
He slipped his hands onto his hips and rocked onto his heels, casting a glance over her shoulder and down the street. Surely, the two of them could come up with something.
It didn't hurt that she wasn't hard on the eyes, either. It'd been a while.
Ama was starting to wonder if this town had ANY locals. Mental sigh.
"None whatsoever. I was in the tavern a short while ago but got talking to another traveller. It completely slipped my mind to ask the barkeep."
Shrug. The demoness casually walked towards the tanned, toned and athletic-looking stranger, unable to keep her eyes from wandering. She smiled, thinking the situation all too funny. Then she turned her gaze behind her, in the direction the guy was looking.
Ramir nodded in agreement and unbothered by her assessment. That sounded like a better plan that the absent one he'd had a moment ago. He nodded subtly and took a step, which ended with him turning to fall in beside her. His hands had slid into his pocket and he matched her pace now.
"Let the world watch out then."
He managed a smile then, he wasn't keen on being 'the guy who drew too much attention by trying not to draw attention.' That shtick was old.
"The name's Vandal. Or at least, that's what they call me. It's a pleasure to meet you."
He didn't inquire as to her name, but he was an unpolished chap and really; appreciated people who responded to casual conversation and sincerity.
Ama laughed, despite herself. She wasn't against humor on a first encounter, but this just slipped out. She passed it off as a result of the three beers she'd had for breakfast.
"I'm Ama. The locals call me The Wistvale Wanderer."
The demon girl chuckled. No one called her that.
"So, Vandal, what brings you to this part of the world? Or are you just here for a good time?"
Ramir, despite it being an often used and perhaps cliche expression, raised one eyebrow. The comment piqued his interest and his humor both and he couldn't help but smile now.
"But we just met."
He shot her a harmless but not-altogether-against-that-idea kind of look, which then swung skyward as a crack rolled in from the horizon. He tugged his hood up onto his head and, after looking at their immediate surroundings, leaned his head to the right to emphasize his next words.
"Come, we're going to get wet if we linger."
He paused a moment thought, realizing he'd neglected to answer her.
"Ah... and yeah. I don't have a whole lot of purpose. Not just yet."
Ama was going to make some "Eyes forward, soldier" kinda retort when the heavens chose to intervene. If she'd been the type of person to believe in signs, Ama might have thought the change in weather was a bad omen. But the demoness didn't believe in all that superstitious boloney.
Instead, Ama followed in Vandal's actions and drew up her own hood. She couldn't put her finger on it but there was something about this guy that she liked; good vibes and a positive attitude.
"I totally understand. Not everyone finds their path in life from the get-go. I was lucky, my parents never pressured me to be someone I wasn't comfortable being. Were your parents the same?"
Ramir had scurried under a ramshackle awning and was waiting as though holding a door - or holding it up for her. He had taken a moment to think about that question, he really didn't have a great answer for it. Oh, he didn't have some flood of tragic phooey come rushing back that would have him start brooding or angered, but he certainly didn't have any recollection of his parents. That being the case, his answer was predictable.
"I never knew my parents. I knew the belly of a ship and smelly, hairy men that looked at my oddly, much too often. They were always a loud and dangerous lot and whilst their faces often changed, their attitudes never followed suit."
He shrugged and managed to bring that smile back to his maw.
"Nah, never given my parents much thought. I reckon their long gone by now. Probably a good thing. This way."
He'd spied a door that was every bit as ramshackle as the awning and was busy spying about it. His hand tested the handle and found it unlocked. It wasn't a residence, well hadn't been in some time by the looks of it.
Ama joined Vandal beneath the awning and quickly glanced up, wondering how long it would be before it would no longer serve as shelter. She listened with genuine interest to the young man's story, sympathizing with the worst parts but showing little pity in eyes. He didn't want or need her feeling sorry for him, nor did she wish to comfort him. After all, if those things hadn't happened, they would never have met.
"So, you've been put off smelly, hairy men for life, then?"
Ama said with a hint of a playful smile, in an attempt to prevent the conversation from plummeting to an awkward silence. She watched as Vandal tested the door and was inwardly thrilled when it opened.
Ramir nodded and quite deliberately held the door open for his new friend now. His gaze sought hers as he waited, he was finding her altogether to his liking.
"Most certainly. I much prefer strange, inquisitive, attractive young women with nowhere to be."
He wasn't sure if that might come off as 'hey it's me, the serial killer guy you're Mum warned you about', so he chuckled to ease any tension. He had every intention of making sure the building were safe, rather than having her stumble into something unsavory. At least she appeared better prepared than most.
"Alright, let's see what we have. I call top bunk."
Before crossing the threshold, Ama grabbed the corners of her cloak and gave a rather theatrical curtsey. She'd spent most of her life around royalty and often teased the Prince, in private, that he acted a little too proper at time.
"Why, thank you, kind sir." She said in a mock-upper class voice...then placed a hand upon the hilt of her dagger. "Just to be safe."
Ama cautiously stepped into the rundown building, feeling oddly assured by Vandal's presence. If someone - or something - was lurking in the shadows, the demoness got the impression that this stranger would help.
Ramir followed her in and quietly, so as to not alert anything, shut the door behind them. A good thing too, it seemed the door closing unlocked the sky and rain started to fall heavily on the roof. He looked to her as passed her side and nodded, then leaned into a doorway onto another room. It was on the left, with another on the right of the wall facing them.
"We may have gotten lucky." he said in a hushed tone. "Let's make sure."
He smiled and then nodded, before he slipped from sight to make sure the house were secure.
While Vandal vanished from her sight, Ama decided to check the rooms he'd already popped his head into to see if there was anything that they could turn into a makeshift bed- bedS! Two of them, completely separate. Different rooms, in fact. Or better yet, two ACTUAL beds. She wasn't fussy, she'd slept in several barns, and even under a tree, on her travels to Wistvale.
Other than the sparse, plain furnishings, Ama found an large, worn chest in the room on the left. It was void of any lock mechanism, so the young demon knew it wouldn't contain anything of value. But maybe it had something they could use.
Ama kneeled down in front of the dark box, placing her dagger on the not-so-clean-anymore floor next to her. She slipped her pale fingers into position beneath the lid and lifted the heavy top up and over. The chest lid bumped against the wall, sending up a cloud of dust. Ama covered her mouth with one hand and fanned away the dust with the over, then peered into the large container with her inquisitive purple eyes.
Meanwhile, Ramir returned to the first room making quite a bit more noise than he had when first leaving it. Not finding her there, he ventured inward and found her with her empty box of nothing.
He was looking quite pleased with himself and peered into the box.
"Bummer. I have something you want to see though. Thisway."
Patience may or may not have been a virtue for Ramir, but he took the lead and left the room. Winding back along his prior path, he took a flight of stairs, three at a time and then waited for her on a very creaky, very suspicious landing. The building had a loft, or so it seemed and obviously, Ramir had something to show her.