She breathed a laugh. “Yes, it offends my honour,” she joked.
“What honour?”
“Sir, you wrong me.”
“Apologies, lady.”
Aloisia snorted. “What am I doing?” she muttered.
“What can I help you with,ro suda? There is always some agenda when you come to see me.”
“Can’t you put some clothes on?”
“No, I am not done.” He rested his arms on the bank of the stream. “Perhaps you could join me?”
She blanched. “I’ll pass.”
“Forgive me, lady. You have too much honour for that.”
“I’m going to wait at your home.” She didn’t delay, hastening back in the direction she had come.
Inari’s laughter followed her as she went.
By the time she reached the hut, the heat in her cheeks had faded. But the image of Inari’s broad shoulders, the tattoos lacing across his torso and back, the fox-like grin which tugged at his lips, had not.
Aloisia perched in the window. Much like her own home, there was no pane of glass, and only shutters to keep out the world. She spun a metal bead around a strand of her hair as she waited, the engraving of a deer on its surface glinting in the moonlight.
Footsteps sounded after a long while, and Aloisia turned to see Inari approach. He was clearly in no hurry and had no trouble making her wait. His deep auburn hair was worn loose around his shoulders, still damp and curling at the ends. Unlike the night before, he did not wear leathers and furs. Instead, he bore a simple white shirt, the collar forming a deep V-shape upon his chest, atop dark brown cloth trousers tucked into boots.
Inari indicated to his attire. “Am I suitably clothed, lady?”
“It’ll do.” Aloisia smirked.
“Good.” He grinned back, pushing the door open with a shoulder.
She followed through the window, taking a seat at the table just as he placed a handful of wooden beads on it.
“What brings you here this time?” The shaman sank into a seat opposite her.
“I have some more questions.”
“More?” He clicked his tongue. “Perhaps I shall continue to be gracious and answer them.”
“I would appreciate it.” Aloisia plucked a bead from the table, rolling it between her fingers.
“Of course.” Inari chuckled. “Ask away then,ro suda.”
“What doesro sudamean?” She mimicked the words, foreign on her tongue.
He gave a laugh. “‘Little wolf’ in my language.”
“And what language is it?”
He tapped his nose. “Let a man keep his secrets.”
“I thought you were going to be gracious?”
“Am I not?”
