[Private Rp: Clover & River] Charity and Jensen

[CaptainClover]

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[atrb=background,http://i1292.photobucket.com/albums/b570/Captain-Clover/PostingtableMiddle1.png] It was one of the last sunny days of Autumn, as the cold air began to descend from the North. As the sky was pretty cloudless, it meant the morning had been purely freezing to the point that Charity hadn't wanted to leave her cloth bed made up by the fire. Yet as she had heard the bird song, and seen the watery sunlight invade her room, she knew she couldn't have stayed there all day. So in an effort to keep warm she had done her favourite form of exercise, which was parkour. Running, jumping, climbing and even flipping across the town and through the forest had been quite fun as it had got her adrenaline pumping and her body warmed up. There had been a few close calls as the branches and rooftops still had a slight frost on them causing her to slip, but nothing that she couldn't recover from with a simple tuck and tumble. Now that the sun was just reaching the very top of the sky, so directly entered the cavern in which the felines lived in, it was just warming up to the point that the speckled she-cat decided she didn't need to keep moving. Today she hadn't planned on stealing anything much, she had made quite the grand amount yesterday by stealing off some very rich tom and had gotten away before a single coin had been missed. She wasn't sure where she was now, as she had just kept running and moving in an effort to keep warm, however she could taste a certain salty tang on her tongue and the squawking of a very recognisable sea bird. Reaching the end of the grassy plain, she slid down the slop and landed neatly on what she was happily surprised to be sand. The sand wasn't completely dry from dew or the tide yet, but it felt soft under her paws and solid enough to walk comfortably. Padding along, she closed her eyes and listened to the soft rush of the sea as it drew in and out, and of course the squalls of the seagulls. It wasn't like this was the first time she had been the beach, of course not. But it had been a while and she hadn't been planning to come here. Then again, when did she plan anything?

[Riv]

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/MDv4p.png] Jensen had been given a pretty easy gig for his first time patrolling on his own. Finally, after weeks of being trained and inducted by those soldiers who had been in the Legion for far longer than he'd even been alive, he was officially a First Class Legionnaire. Official meaning that he could carry out his duties on his own, instead of being babysat, tested everywhere that he went. It was nice, he supposed, being able to go out on his own and make decisions based on what he thought was best. Though he had taken the training very seriously, as he generally took everything, it had grown tiresome after a time. He was new to the kingdom, but the rules that they taught him, the code of honor that he was supposed to uphold, were ideal that he'd already personally pledged that he would live his life by. He was glad that there was a fraction, an occupation where he could uphold those personal oaths, to protect the innocent from those who wish them ill intent. He had been half-hoping that they'd give him something exciting to do as a reward for sitting patiently through their lectures on nobility, honesty, and discipline, and as he had followed at the heels of the veterans feeling very much like a trained hound to do their bidding, if there was a slightly menial task that they couldn't be bothered to do themselves. But he wasn't surprised when they told him to make a sweep around Jasper beach for a few hours. Obviously, he still wasn't trusted to get more difficult jobs done well. They were going to ease him into it little by little. He understood. He could be patient and wait for a chance to prove himself, and in the meantime it didn't hurt that he had a little bit more time to himself, and a chance to really get a grip on how the kingdom worked. How different this place was from where he had grown up! There had been no ocean there, no tang of salt that touched the air and filled his lungs as he breathed. No sand that massaged his pads as he walked closer to the water, supporting his weight but at the same time making him feel as though he were falling. Actually, before today, he'd never walked on sand at all. The other Legionnaires had shown him this place during his orientation, but he hadn't gotten a chance to walk across the fine, sugar-sand beach, to wade into the water until his ankles were soaked, and to walk back on the shore so that the sand could stick to the wet fur. He had done all of that today, and he had technically finished his rounds an hour ago. He stayed at his "post," or where he supposed it would be, but he found himself easily distracted by the new environment. Watchful at first, but it was hard to really keep the peace when the few cats who were there seemed to be keeping themselves more or less out of trouble on their own. Jensen sat on a small hill of sand, some distance from the water, and stared out over the foam. He could see a few ships sailing in the far distance, tiny black smudges that his feline eyes could make out against the blue. It was chilly, but his cloak kept him warm enough, even if he was missing a lot of fur on his body. His scar made the cold hard, leaving him with little protection if he didn't have the red fabric draped over it. It was so still and clear, pristine. The sun shone even if it didn't give off warmth, and the water was perfectly still, reflecting dazzling specks of sunlight off of the shifting blue-green surface. He felt content, sitting there just enjoying the chilly day that looked as though it should have been much warmed than it was. He closed his eyes for a few moments, his left paw scratching his right as a literal itch to carve overtook him. Honestly, he probably would have picked up the very first piece of wood or stone within reach if there in fact had been any in reach. He couldn't even see any driftwood, and he didn't think he would be able to in good conscience leave his post to find something in the woods to shape in his paws. He scratched the white fur again, sighing as he opened his eyes... And just in time. He didn't know how he hadn't heard her approach--probably a combination of the sand muffling her footsteps, Jensen's inattention, and the fact that the thief was probably very good at walking quietly. But when Jensen opened his eyes, he saw Charity only a few feet from him, walking forward with her eyes closed. Jensen sprang to his feet at once, struck silent for a moment as he wondered if she even knew that he was there. His ears burned as he wondered if he would have noticed her before she tripped over him or something. She probably would have noticed it first. He couldn't hold back his laugh at the thought, so he chuckled as he held out a hand to stop her, still not sure if she knew that he was there or not. "Pardon me, m'lady," he said, still laughing but trying to hold it back. "Enjoying the autumn weather?" Of course, Jensen knew at once that it was Charity. He couldn't possibly mistake the lovely dappled pelt for another she-cat, nor the up-tilted ears, and he wasn't sure that anyone else would be able to move quite so quietly over sand. The rope slung about her waist, which he reasoned was both a weapon and a handy tool, was something that he didn't think he had seen on any other cat. Though her eyes were closed, he didn't doubt that she would open them in a moment as he broke whatever train of thought she was walking to, glimmering golden like the coins he assumed she was a master at lifting from rich nobles.

[CaptainClover]

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[atrb=background,http://i1292.photobucket.com/albums/b570/Captain-Clover/PostingtableMiddle1.png] Charity listened to the sea, felt the sun on her fur and relaxed. She hadn't seen or paid attention to any others on the beach, and why should she? It was hardly like the shades were going to be playing here with a bucket and spade. Her short tail gently waved behind her, her front paws tucked behind her head, stretching herself ever so slightly to stretch her usually tensed up muscles. She was lost to her little world of solitude, one that she fell into so often as her life didn't give her much opportunity to interact with others. Well other then stealing from them, talking out of situation with guards and the occasional blackmailing to the deserving recipient. It was at that moment that the tom's voice pierced her mind of solitude, making her eyes snap open and narrow with a reflex ready to fight back. She stopped mid step, her chest only a whisker length away from touching an outstretched paw, her paw quickly falling to rest on the dagger hilt on her leg. Yet, in the few seconds it took for her to realise she wasn't alone, she also found that this tabby was laughing, and.. familiar. Straightening herself so that her paw was no longer resting on the dagger, she turned to look at the tom who dared to interrupt her peaceful walk. “I was. But then I almost crashed into the little Soldier from the market. It is you then.. Jensen, right?” She was uncertain, but it was hard to not recognise the bright red cloak the scarred tom was wearing, along with his extensive burns and soft green eyes. Quickly remembering just how that day had played out, and how flustered the legionary had become, she quickly replaced her slight uncertainty and annoyance with a smile as if she had bumped into a lifelong friend. It seemed things turned out for the best if she didn't plan, because now she'd be able to spend the rest of the afternoon entertaining herself with this awkward tabby. Taking a step back or so, she looked the tom over and then purred. “So what's this little soldier doing on the beach? Making sure the tide doesn't steal more sand?” She grinned, trying to hide her curiosity as to why the tom really was here. If the legionaries did patrol this area, then letting her guard down so recklessly had been a stupid pleasure she wouldn't give herself again in the future.

[Riv]

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/MDv4p.png] Jensen's smile faded slightly into a more puzzled composure at her sudden change in attitude. For a moment, he'd thought that she was going to knife him from the way that her paw had twitched to the hilt of her dagger. Jensen had been caught off-guard, and he realized that Charity was a pretty dangerous she-cat. Caught off guard as he was by her sudden self-preservation, Jensen didn't think that he would be quick enough to parry her knife before she stuck him. But then, she backed off, shifting from violent to irritated to friendly in only a few heartbeats. She stepped away from him through the sand even as she greeted him, and instantly he felt very self-conscious. He never could quite figure out exactly what her game was, but he knew without a doubt that she was up to something. Why else would she wonder what his name was but throw him a friendly smile only a second later? Jensen cleared his throat, reaching up with his left paw to smooth the spiky clumps of long fur on his head. "I'm sorry," he said, slightly flustered but more just apologetic. He hadn't meant to ruin her walk on the beach. It really was a beautiful day, even if it was cold, and the sand felt warm as the sun's rays heated its surface even if they didn't bring warmth to the air. He dropped his paw back to his side when he realized what he was doing and cleared his throat again. Why was he so flustered around this particular cat? It was her attitude, he reasoned, the way she tried to catch him in her gaze. She enjoyed making him feel uncomfortable. But, even though he knew it was her doing, there was nothing to be done about it. She'd given him some reason to stop looking at her though, something to actually think about, and he huffed as he glanced back at the ground. "The Legionnaires don't seem to think I'm... aah... prepared for actual rounds," he said, his disappointment flickering across his face. "I think I'm still on trial. It's not bad--usually I'd have to work for years to get into First Class, but they thought I was skilled enough to get in. I've been going through orientation, learning the ropes. They sent me here to patrol--they don't send soldiers here--not much happens on the beach."

[CaptainClover]

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[atrb=background,http://i1292.photobucket.com/albums/b570/Captain-Clover/PostingtableMiddle1.png] Her sharp eyes watched him closely, noticing how he began to fidget under her gaze. The tabby was already starting to smooth down his fur and apologized like a little kit with his paw in the catnip jar. Yes this would be almost too easy, the Mokave she-cat thought to herself with a grin, swishing her tail in satisfaction. Listening to his story with a soft smile, she perked her ears in slight surprise to hear that he was skilled enough to be part of the first class, and not only that, but to have made his way into that sector early. Despite being so easy to tease, had this tom acted more confident in their first meeting she would've felt respect for him, maybe even intimidated by his power. However, she was hardly going to let the striped legionary in front of her find this out, and took the information in her stride, instead replying just as casually. “Well that's good news. For me at least, because I'd hate to hear that the legionaries stalk this lovely place.” She said this with a grin, genuinely happy to hear that she could let her guard down in this more natural part of the kingdom, and even better if they sent their newbies out to this area she could have quite the fun messing with them on their first days. Yet Charity noticed a slightly disappointed air around Jensen, the way he stared at the ground wasn't helping her good mood. So she added with a smile. “But hey, I guess that's good news for you too. I mean not only are they trusting you out alone already, it means you're free to talk to me today. I mean, if Mr. Solider, or should I say Mr. Rookie solider, doesn't feel too bad about leaving his post for a bit.” Though the thief thought herself to be too independent to be one to make friends, and would always deny having any if asked, she did have playful ways of treating those she did think good enough to handle her personality. Currently, due to his flustered nature and weaker assertiveness but not timid enough to be boring, Jensen seemed good enough to hang around. Worst case scenario she could always use him as a weak link in the Legionaries to get out of a sticky situation later on, though she was never one to just throw another under a bus if she could avoid it. While she wouldn't stick her neck out for others, she wouldn't hold the axe to others.

[Riv]

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/MDv4p.png] Jensen looked back up as Charity spoke again, so easily, like they'd known each other for far longer than they had--that one meeting on the rooftop before Hallows Eve when he spent more time trying to ignore the fact that she and Leif were both probably criminals and trying to figure out why they were being so smooth with them than actually letting himself actually relax around them. It struck him odd that the only cats who he had spoken to with more of a purpose than just duty were probably only interested in him so they could get something from a Legionnaire of the highest rank. And in fact, Charity was the first cat that he'd actually liked. Not that he disliked any of his fellow soldiers. They just never really had a time to talk about anything outside of their occupation. "I suppose you're only looking for a place to haunt without soldiers watching your every move," Jensen chuckled, giving her a charming smile nonetheless. The dragon li could be charming even while being completely clueless, having no idea that he was actually acting like the white knight. Like now, for instance--he didn't have to put on a show, he didn't even have to try. He was just like that, almost all the time. "But yes, we generally leave this place alone." And now, he supposed she'd probably frequent this place far more than anywhere where they actually might catch her pilfering from the stores. But that was why they left the beach mostly alone in the first place. This was where the cats came alone. Populated areas like the docks, the markets, and the streets were usually guarded most of the time. And the palace, of course. There were more who could be hurt there, more shops that the shady thug could profit from smashing or stealing from. What was she... trying to make him feel better? He let out a breath that was almost a laugh when he realized this. Could it be that Charity Colt, the thief, actually had a heart? "This Rookie Soldier will be trusted enough to do his duty soon enough," he mused. He glanced down the beach--there was no one else there, though he still didn't really want to leave his post. He had finished the patrol and guard duty that he had been assigned to already but still. He didn't really like the thought of leaving to go off for himself. "I suppose I've finished," he told her, his green eyes sliding back to her as he decided that nothing was going to happen on the beach, and if it did then it would only happen after he'd left. "But you know I shouldn't make a habit of this."

[CaptainClover]

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[atrb=background,http://i1292.photobucket.com/albums/b570/Captain-Clover/PostingtableMiddle1.png] Charity couldn't help but grin as the solider chuckled at her motives, not even attempting to deny the obvious. She did find it odd that the brown tom wasn't acting suspicious or even looking at her like she was the criminal he guessed she was, but the spotted she-cat was hardly going to dwell on her fortune. While she was distrustful of others, she wasn't going to persecute another cat for treating her like any other cat. In fact she quite liked it. That didn't mean she wasn't going to treat Jensen like the solider he was however. As the striped tom began to almost laugh, she was slightly curious as to what was so funny about offering to talk for a bit. Then again, she would of laughed at the idea if the soldier had proposed a chat with the thief, so she didn't mind and instead stood there with a grin. The mokave couldn't help but widen this smirk though, as the reluctant legionary told her that he was finished with work. “You know that's what I said when I first started stealing. Funny how things turn out hm?” The stealthy she-cat mewed with a purr, looking around for somewhere to sit down. She hardly wanted to dip her paws into the freezing waters, or feel much of the breeze that stole what little warmth accumulated due to the weak sun's rays. Spotting a hunky cluster of rocks, she turned to the legionary and gestured for him to follow, before walking over to the sheltered spot, happy to be out of the wind's range. She couldn't help but feel a slight urge to climb the rocks, or even check for nearby rock-pools formed by the sea in hopes of finding small creatures trapped in the puddles, but in front of Jensen she decided it'd be best to not show off what she was interested in and instead take time to find out about him. Who knows? It could be useful. “So you're skilled enough to get into the first class. Want to show me just what you can do with that sword of yours?” She asked, her amber eyes watching him as she leant against the rock's side.

[Riv]

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/MDv4p.png] He liked this conversation he was having with Charity. Despite the fact that he knew he probably shouldn't trust her, and that she probably was only interested in him because she thought she could take advantage in, Jensen found himself enjoying this slight time off of patrolling where he could talk to a cat that he knew--or at least, who had had met and was in the process of getting to know. Although... her comment did make him a bit nervous. He thought about it as he followed her across the sand to the pile of rocks that she was heading to, his bowed his head and frowned just slightly. What was she implying, that skimming duty would lead him to also become a thief? Somehow, he couldn't picture that actually happening. He was finished, technically. It wasn't like he was swiping something from a market stall and telling himself that it was a one time only thing. He perked up again as Charity turned back to him. He didn't like to be anything other than cheerful when others could see. He was an optimist, so naturally he didn't want to be one to bring down the mood. Of course he wouldn't go dark side--she was only messing with him, per the norm. "My sword?" he asked, his paw moving to it automatically as he walked up to the rocks. For a moment, he didn't answer, just looked up the rock face, then hopped up to sit on one of the lower boulders. He swept his cloak back to reveal the sword, crossing his legs. Attached to his right leg was what looked like a dagger--something that wasn't obvious when his cloak was swishing around his legs. "I'm afraid a sword demonstration is not very exciting without an opponent. If I'm ever around when you are ever backed into a corner or attacked, I assure you that you will see quite a demonstration." Jensen glanced out at the water for a moment, letting out a puff of air through his nostrils. "But, I doubt I'll be that lucky," he told her. "And I daresay you would be able to get yourself out of such a situation, miss." Jensen's eyes fell upon a thick, irregular piece of white driftwood caught underneath one of the rocks. Eyes lighting slightly, he leaned over to start wrestling it out of where it was caught, already visualizing the shape that potentially lay within it.

[CaptainClover]

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[atrb=background,http://i1292.photobucket.com/albums/b570/Captain-Clover/PostingtableMiddle1.png] Charity leaned against one of the larger boulders, not sitting down just yet. As Jensen denied letting her see his skills and attacks, she pretended not to care that she'd missed an opportunity to find out his weaknesses and instead twitched in amusement at his words. “You almost make getting backed into a corner sound tempting.” She laughed lightly, though she couldn't help but wonder why he had said that'd be a lucky situation. Did he mean he'd be lucky to find her in an injured state so easier to arrest.. or that he wanted to show off in front of her? Either idea led to a slightly threatening path of thought, so instead she took the short cut and just nodded as he said she'd be fine by herself. Why would a soldier want to impress a thief, or even more so help her out of a situation she probably deserved. If she were backed into a corner, it would be because she provoked them. Well most likely. It'd probably hurt her more the day she got saved by a legionary then the day no one stepped in to help at all. Well she imagined it would. She'd got by well enough all this time without anyone, when would a time come where she'd be powerless to not get herself out? “I'd be more impressed by those who backed me into a corner then whoever saved me next.” She said with a grin, deciding that she was getting tired of standing, so walked over to him. She chose a rock opposite the Legionary with a similar size and sat herself down with a smile. However the bandit watched the tom with interest as he picked up the bleached white stick, curious as to what he was about to do with the gnarled bit of debris. “What'cha doing Jensen? I don't think a white bit of wood would make a good opponent if you're still planning to show me your sword skills.” The Mokave grinned, deciding to slip off the coil of rope over her shoulder and place it over a spike in the rock, though one end lay close to her paw in the case she needed to retrieve it quickly. She wasn't used to just sitting down and chatting with another cat, so fiddled with her paws as she watched him, unsure whether this was the best idea. She'd watch cats in the past as they talked about nearly anything with each other for fun. They usually ended up laughing and ignorant to the sly paws that had just removed their Schilling pouches. It didn't look that hard to chat with others, and seemed fun, so why did she feel so awkward.

[Riv]

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/MDv4p.png] Jensen flushed slightly as he realized what she probably thought he was implying. He'd felt her sort of stiffen into silence, and he'd cast his mind back to try to pinpoint exactly what he'd said to make her react that way--as subtle as that reaction was, he'd still been able to sense it. Of course, he realized too late, why on earth would it be a lucky thing to find her in such a situation? Even he wasn't sure what he'd meant by it. What he'd wanted to say was that something like that happening would be incredibly unlikely, but the word 'luck' had probably ruined it all. But at least she reacted smoothly, as he was sure that she would. She didn't like to show weakness, this thief, and he noticed that even when she sat next to him, even when she lay down her rope (which he found surprising, as he'd considered it to be her main weapon) her paw never strayed too far. It was almost as if she were warning him. don't try anything just because I set down my weapon, he imagined her saying. You'd still never be able to best me. Jensen had no inclination whatsoever in testing her. He was fairly certain he'd win if it was actual combat, but doubtless she was quick and resourceful, used to running from soldiers who tried to bring her in. Besides, he didn't see any reason why he'd attack her now. She'd done nothing wrong. "I'd like to point out that anyone who's skilled enough to back you into a corner would have to be very formidable indeed," he chuckled, reaching down to pull his knife from the sheath on his leg, almost without thinking about it. It was habit. "And one who can save you from them would have to be more formidable still. A very impressive feat, in my opinion." Though he still suspected she'd be inclined to disagree. It made sense to him, but so far he hadn't really been able to work out how Charity worked. And neither did he suspect she'd make it easy for him. So he'd be patient. Odds were they'd rarely run into each other as it was. Thieves usually made a habit of avoiding Legionnaires, and Jensen would hate to be the one who would have to nab her. He hoped that she'd keep her thieving far from his vicinity whenever he was on duty. He'd been so lost in his thoughts as he'd twirled the knife in one paw, staring at the blank piece of wood as he'd subconsciously decided what shape it cried to be formed into and at the same time still deep in his thoughts. "Hmm?" he asked when Charity had moved closer to his side. She'd been interested in him as he'd wrenched out the white wood from where it had been caught, it seemed. He brushed what staining and dirt he could from the surface--he'd probably have to shave all of the outside shell off first. But at her query he turned, leaning back on one arm and giving her a smile that was actually quite charming. "There is more than one type of skill with a blade," he told her, twirling the knife again.

[CaptainClover]

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[atrb=background,http://i1292.photobucket.com/albums/b570/Captain-Clover/PostingtableMiddle1.png] Charity could understand what he meant, the cat strong enough to take down those who had the spotted thief backed into a corner would be powerful, however she wasn't going to just agree with him, She made it a habit to talk back to cats. She grinned as she thought of her counter, replying with a purr. “Ah impressive maybe. But maybe more impressive that one so 'formidable' was foolish enough to trust and defend a thief. Who's to say I wouldn't just use them later?” She giggled, knowing how most cats would feel disgusted that she would use a cat after they helped her. Then again, she didn't say she wouldn't repay her saviour if he did ever come to her aid. It was at that moment she noticed the blade in his paw, the metal glinting in the weak sun as it twirled. She almost leapt away, her reactions to all sharp or threatening objects making her fur stand on end. The thief's short tail bristled a little and her paw landed on the rope faster then she realised that he was not aiming the knife at her throat. Yet. Her amber eyes narrowed and shot an accusing look at the soldier, almost challenging him to dare use the blade against her. When had he got that out? Had he agreed to talk to her just to get close enough then stab her in the back? The ideas for how or why he had acquired the pointed weapon at this moment made her frown, standing up sharply. “I know there are plenty uses of knives.. few lead to positive consequences.” She said, almost hissing. How dare he smile a perfectly charming smile while he got ready to slit her throat? Maybe she was over reacting but in her year of being a thief, she had learnt that trust was as good as suicide in the underworld. Being suspicious of everything was the only way to stay alert, stay aware and most importantly stay alive.

[Riv]

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/MDv4p.png] "On the contrary," Jensen told her, lowering the knife and placing it against the white wood that he held in his other paw. "There is really only one way knives are used for ill. As a weapon." Jensen ran the blade along the wood, making a few marks, before he began whittling away at it, shaving paper-thin pieces off of the surface. These drifted like little white ashes down his lap and were caught by the wind as they scattered, just the few that had fallen so far. He predicted that there would soon be many more, before he was finished, but he probably wouldn't finish this anyway. "It's just a tool," he told her with a shrug, not even really looking at his paws as he whittled, looking more at the water again. The water always looked beautiful, as it sprawled from relatively close to all the way out on the horizon, where the edge of the world must have been if the world had an edge. The itch in his paws subsided as he returned to the familiar art, and he turned to her again. He supposed that he couldn't be surprised by her reaction--a Legionnaire, pulling out a knife when sitting by a relatively unarmed thief (and relatively unarmed only because he could see no weapon in her hand. Doubtless she could whip one of her own out from hiding as quickly as he might blink) was in hindsight a bad idea. Though there was something to be said in the fact that she wasn't already holding a knife of her own to his throat. This actually surprised him more--he thought that a moment of absentmindedness like this might cost him around her, as suspicious as he knew she was. Even if she seemed lax with his presence, he didn't doubt she was always ready to defend herself should he seem to threaten her in any way. Shik, shik, shik. He liked the sound of carving, that low rasp when the razor-edged blade peeled away at the unformed lump. He wasn't being very precise with it, not right now. "Knives can make the most beautiful things, just as they can make things ugly." Like a rotting body in the gutter--too often had he seen that sort of knife handiwork.

[CaptainClover]

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[atrb=background,http://i1292.photobucket.com/albums/b570/Captain-Clover/PostingtableMiddle1.png] Charity kept her ears low, but let her fur lie flat again, deciding to sit far back from the legionary this time so that he was in no close range to take a strike at her if he so choose. She began to play with the rope in her paws, picking at the loose threads as it frayed and wrapping it around her digits a number of times as she kept her eyes narrowed on the scarred tabby. She knew he couldn't be ignorant to all the ways a sharp blade could be used, he was a legionary after all, and one apparently skilled with a sword. /Yet he said they could only be used one way? That's some way then/ The thief thought with a roll of her amber eyes, remembering the ways she had seen and used a knife herself. “Well if you count torture device, planted evidence, assassin's tool, all under 'weapon' then I guess you're... half right.” She said with a grin, knowing she would never admit he was actually right. Which he wasn't in this case, the spotted she-cat was just humouring him. With a very humourless topic. 'Tool' was a better term for a dagger, considering the variety of uses it had. Putting down her rope, though still in very close reach, she decided that the Legionary couldn't complain if she played with her own dagger for the moment. Pulling out the green handle from the sheath tightly buckled onto her left leg, she examined the years old dagger with a smile, the green leather feeling worn and fitted in her paw. It had been one of her first presents from her father during her training as a shade. She hadn't walked around without it a day since. However after so long, the metal, which wasn't an amazingly great quality as it had to be light enough for a young she-cat to carry and use, had grown scratched and there even seemed to be a chip at the end meaning that while it made the blade more jagged, she was hardly going to do a clean slice with this old tool. She was going to have to find a blacksmith to repair it. What a bother. Her sharp eyes returned to the brown tom's paws, the repetitive little scrape of metal on wood made her ears twitch with each sound and she found it hard to remain quiet or to not ask him to stop. She was curious as to what he was carving though, since she had never really met any cat who carved wood for a living. Though the pretty little figurines she usually saw on the market stalls always caught her eyes, but she wasn't going to spend her schillings or effort on acquiring a little pretty but practically useless knick-knack. “You could say that about anything. Cats, daggers, even pieces of wood have the potential to do good or bad depending on how you use them.” She said casually, stretching out her full body before deciding to curl up on the seat, her head watching the focuses tom idly.

[Riv]

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[atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/MDv4p.png] "Alright, alright," Jensen chuckled as Charity started listing all of the horrible things one could do with a knife. He didn't pause in his whittling, but he was very aware of what he was doing with his paws. Too aware, actually. Usually he didn't realize that he was doing it, so engraved was his habit into his mind. But now it was like him pulling out a knife really was a bad thing. It cast a rather dark, depressing mood over him, and he stopped the rhythm of the blade scraping over wood and leaned down, putting the knife back into its sheathe. He placed the whittling--which had begun taking the shape of very lifelike, motion-filled wings--between them. Maybe he'd work on it again later, but probably not. He could always make another if he really wanted to finish the wings, as he rarely kept the little whittles he did in passing anyway. He wasn't really in a carving mood anymore. So he shook out his red cloak to disperse the shavings that had collected on his lap and rubbed the pads of one paw with the other. He never noticed the discomfort in his paws that carving caused until he had put down the knife and wood, but when he did he almost always felt the ache in his paws. "You make a good point. I do believe that everything can be used for good or ill. But that's not always a bad thing--it just means we have a choice in how we use them." He shifted and pulled back his cloak to reveal his sword. "The only reason I could afford this is because it was black steel--a metal that no one knew. They thought it was bad luck, that it could not be used. I'm happy to say I proved it wrong." Not that the sword was perfect, by any means. Maybe for a cat different than himself, but it was not balanced as he would like it in his paws, nor did it move the way he moved. It served him, but it was not ideal. He could only imagine what he might be able to do with a sword forged for him. When he glanced over at her, he saw that she had her knife out as well. He sighed inwardly, realizing that this was probably her showing that she didn't trust him. What an idiot move, he realized once again. Pulling out a knife. And he still didn't know what game she was playing. Maybe he should stop trying to figure it out.