Snippet #1370464

Following the other two along the train cars, Beval ducked his way into their own cabin and settled by the window. His massive trunk was... unwelcome in the small compartment, so he held it close between the already wide stance his legs took. I knew we should have payed for luggage, but Pierre said "Noooooo, we'll miss ze train." The bear shook his head disapprovingly and sank back in the seat. He was less than worried about the other characters they had been seated with, and wasn't going to pay them any mind until one spoke up.

"You're an alchemist, aren't you?" Beval's eyes petered over to the pipsqueak that sat beside Pierre. He fought back the urge to exclaim "Me too! I'm an alchemist, would you like to know more about what I do?", which was a sickeningly large temptation. His attention deprivation was appalling, even to himself. We need to keep low brow, I have to remember that... It's hard enough to do so in this tiny space. Beval already felt that he was taking up half of the cabin, so it did no good when it was pointed out to him.

"You should have bought an extra seat; you take up two." The voice came from across the small space, where a slender woman sat and spoke in an icy tone. She looked no older than the others and appeared to be as tall as Pierre, her entire body refined by two crystal blue eyes. A mane of black hair surrounded her face, carefully combed and reaching past her shoulders, a foil to her sheet white skin. Her angular face looked... deadly, to say the least, completely unsweetened by the pink of her lips or the dimples on her cheeks. She wore a fitted, warm looking coat of furs and synthetic cotton, its white color indicative of northern fauna. The Glacial Pass was home to many creatures that wore that color fur, particularly bears. The tall boots and leggings she wore probably would have confirmed her northern origin, that or the faintest Auvergnian accent she spoke with.

One feature that stood out upon the canvas of this icy huntress (to Beval) was strung across her back, a long rifle of elegant wood and steel. It seemed to be a custom design, nevertheless well crafted and furnished. A grizzly sharpened bayonet rested at the end of the weapon and threatened the ceiling of the cabin. There was a powder horn on her hip as well as a pouch for lead ammunition- clearly the gun was not a rifle, but a musket. Beval's eyes were caught studying the weapon best he could, and his mouth was all out of words when it came to respond to her. "I... I didn't think... S-sorry,"

"Hmmph," The woman smirked, "typical Slav. You come here with your own money and act like you're above everyone, entitled to your own of the west." The girl turned away from Beval, but he couldn't stop staring at her. He was completely shocked. For once, he thought, someone insulted me, and it wasn't because I'm a chimera. The statement was racist in its own right, perhaps, but he hadn't noticed. He was just too... amazed, really. Not only wasn't he accused of being a chimera, but he was referred to as a foreigner!

"I do..?" Beval's mouth moved idly as he stared, hardly aware he had spoken at all. "I didn't think... S-sorry."