Existence [closed to Yvonne]

[Yvonne]

Abel gave the alabaster maiden his complete attention. His eyes learned her manner in the next moment, her social comportment. His friendly greeting had caught her off guard which suggested she was a lady unfamiliar with gentlemanly conduct or... perhaps even basic social cues. Cues such as courteous introduction - a gentleman introduces himself with his name and title and it becomes courteous to equally respond with the lady's name and title. Alas, this was not to be.

He gave ear to her voice and the words she had chosen to express. There was often much to discover in the way a woman spoke - the words themselves perhaps the details of least import when intonation and pause were present in a sentence. She knew where she needed to be however felt a great deal of uncertainty for how to find her way there. Perhaps she was unsure of the correct time to go or felt compelled to stay here. Perhaps she wasn't comfortable asking for anyone's help, or normally would have had an underling arrange her travel affairs and felt this conversation was beneath her standing.

The femme fatale held his inquiring gaze however. Their eyes spoke to each other more than their tongues could. Abel interpreted a grievous weariness there, as though this woman was... tired beyond measure. He may have been seeing emotions that were not actually there to be seen, but he felt he could relate to her weariness. To find this feeling in one who appeared so young was unexpected. A faint glimmer of hope gleamed from among the endless weariness, perhaps a last hope.

The master trader left her question hanging for quite some time. The truth of things often spills from a woman's lips when a man is silent. The white woman allowed her question to tail off and gave nothing else away. This woman was a conundrum. Interesting.

"No," he stated. What a powerful word it could be. Two letters, one syllable. Abel didn't move an inch when he said it, back straight, hands resting either side of his belt buckle. His eyes continued to maintain eye-contact.

The Salvaran caravaneer smiled encouragingly, explaining, "I have urgent business in Beinost and must sail there as soon as possible. I cannot afford the delay to Akashima." His smile was reassuring but his words were not favourable, and his eyes held a hint of sadness. He gave her another bow, this one revealing less flourish and more apology. "How unfortunate. I would have appreciated the luxury of your company, madame."

Abel, at long last, turned his eyes elsewhere. He inspected the many goings-on of his caravan wagons, making certain the cargo-roping was secure, that his eight horses were content and his many employees - drivers, guards, scouts, packers and passengers - were all accounted for. It seemed that they were and only awaited him. He took one look at the weather above and contemplated. He was thinking. His attentive eyes returned to the mystery lady once again.

"There may be a way we might help each other," he considered, choosing his words.