It should be noted that Meithrin is Keilos' older and tinkering-minded brother.
Too Much of a Good Thing Pt. 2
Dishes clattered in the guild's shared kitchen as Ysani set out plates, cutlery and napkins on the large table that served as a prep area and bar for those who might choose to spend their time in the cavernous room. Very few ever did, which made it a wonderful and private place to sit and watch (ogle) Keilos while he cooked. She'd come to think of the kitchen as 'theirs', she realized, and the notion brought a smile to her lips.
A sturdy woven basket rested on one of the tall barstools and she set a bright tablecloth in the bottom, folding it neatly under the flatware. Packing for their outings didn't require much concentration, and her thoughts kept wandering to places that, in the interest of her sanity, they oughtn't go. Each time she caught herself thinking on those certain topics (usually by startling herself with an involuntary whimper in the semi-quiet room), she darted to the sink, which was full to the brim with water and not a few chunks of melting ice, and dunked her head in it.
Toweling dry after the most recent dip, it felt as though her lower lip couldn't possibly stick out any more. Liiiiiiight, this needs to be over. Her tired spells were gone, her sleep was restful, but she was far from happy, and that sorta negated the benefits of the whole stupid episode, didn't it? She thought it did. The towel was thoroughly soaked after several uses, so she dropped it on the pile and pulled the last dry one from a drawer and set it aside for the next time.
Apples, grapes, and a basket of skethyl berries. She rinsed them all and set them aside, then hoisted a large melon up to the counter and dropped it. It broke into ragged halves with a satisfying squishy crump and she scooped out the golden fruit with a spoon. No matter how many hours she put into weapons training, no matter how precise she could be with the axe that was an entity unto itself, she always managed to cut herself with simple kitchen knives every single time she tried to use one, until Keilos barred her from them entirely. It didn't much matter anyway. The tasks she could do without them were simple but many, and she knew it would save him a lot of time when he woke up. Speaking of which...
She'd been wakened early, just after dawn, by the thud his body made as he landed on the floor for the umpteenth time that week. In a flash she was out of her bed and at his side, helping him up, walking his dazed and still-sleeping form to the bed and settling him there. He'd burrowed into the pillows, still warm as she'd left them and likely smelling of her, and it was all she could do not to curl up beside him and wake him with a kiss. Instead she'd fled the bedroom, the feverish preparations in the kitchen a distraction that was rapidly becoming ineffective. She couldn't think of anything else she could do, and he still slept. She sat on a stool and tapped her foot, waiting. And waiting. Just when she thought she might explode, a tiny squirrel made its way into the room and whirred over to where she sat, bumping repeatedly into her shoe.
"Hey little guy! I didn't know you could find me from the bedroom. Meithrin sure knows some neat tricks, huh?" It felt oddly natural to chat with the robot. Ysani grinned as she plucked it up off the floor by its gemmed head and set it on the bar in front of her. It chirped a tinny greeting. "Here to keep me company, I see. What makes you tick, I wonder?" The gnomish toolkit unfolded with a soft snick in her hand. She sat there quietly in the detritus of her picnic-packing for the next several hours, head lowered, all other concerns chased out of her head as the happy squirrel slowly came apart.