Date: 2010-04-18 12:12 am (UTC)
"wisdom's sense worn in, but with some mind for others, even if there's no particular care for them..."

"That's interesting, mistress," I say. "But what of wisdom not of man but of rock or tree or heath? Or would you say that is sense, not wisdom? Is wisdom, then, Man's alone?" I look at her curiously and run my finger across the top of my glass.

Gaueko rattles his bowl.

"Thirsty dog," I comment, and I wave a beckoning hand at the bartender.

Glass accepts my invitation and gives her name.

"Uri, Mistress Beddau, my name is Uri, and pleased I am to make your acquaintance," I say, bowing my head in a quick dip. "No family name have I, though I have had different titles on the road over the years I have walked it - Uri of the Bow, and Uri-by-Night, and Uri of the Wool Fells, and now I am Uri the Peddlar," I say, tapping the pack on the floor beside me, "as I peddle my wares from place to place. And you, Mistress Beddau, are you employed, or do you keep house?"
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