Inn forty-six

Unaware of the extent of Sylvie's connection with Sebastian, nevertheless he found her reaction edifying. It hadn't merely been Suitov's imagination, then. The rifle was intriguing too, but, judging by how close Helmine was keeping it, curiosity might be best saved for later.

"Ah, hello again. Sylvie, this is Helmine, a newcomer to these parts and staying here for the moment. Helmine -- Sylvie." He took a step backwards, half turned and called his dog by name.

A flaming log shifted in the fireplace, throwing up soporific sparks.

It was simple enough. Helmine nodded to Sylvie but remained unsmiling. She did look a little suspicious -- or curious -- when it turned out Sylvie was looking at her with a bit of bewilderment, too. The most she would do, however, was to turn her head slightly to one side -- a gesture that might have been familiar, too.

The log, on second impression, wasn't a log. Logs didn't do that. (Not unless Sylvie had been messing with them, anyway.)

Whatever-it-was in the fireplace emitted a deep growl. The drizzle of sparks became a cascade when the thing rose, causing the other logs to wratccchitthuffkck out of the way. Gleaming red eyes caught and threw back the firelight as the creature emerged.

There was a paw, and the rest of it. A hound it was, an enormous coal-black... well, look, it was Basaltine, ya dig? He stepped onto the hearthstone and stretched, making a few crackling sounds that matched the fire.

"I was sleeping," he said.

Helmine stared openly. This shit was getting seriously confusing.

Sylvie watched not quite that impressed. In contrast to a certain dragon she knew, Basaltine was reasonably careful while climbing out of the fireplace, leading to way less spill than she would have expected.

He also stamped his paws on the flagstones, and if you had a hearth rug you didn't mind getting a little scorched... well, never mind.

"Halloo again. Sausage?" he said, looking between the two women.

"Wst!" Suitov scolded. Too slow on the reaction to stop the mutt saying it altogether.

Helmine smirked and ignored the dog. Or at least she didn't look at him. She looked at Sylvie and Suitov instead.

"Does your nose take a bit after coming out of the fire to get up to speed?" Sylvie asked the dog.

"It takes more than a raging inferno, or cold-water pouring, to divest this humble heart of hope," Basaltine said and bowed, one forefoot curled back and tail waving vaguely.

"How about a bath with soap," Helmine said dryly.

"Scrub my back?" the dog said, straightening up.

"Unlikely. But hello to you," Helmine said, squeezing her hair to see how much moisture there was left.

While she did that, Basaltine gave his neck a quick scratch, kicking up a little bit of a cloud. He looked very not cooked for a dog that had just walked through fire. His fur was also belching off enough heat to make anyone think twice before patting him just yet.

"Boss says this is Sylvie, which I'm sure you gathered. She can do wicked cool stuff with plants."

And if he had wanted to be branded a creeper, he would have added a vine figure of a woman.

Sylvie spared a short and not entirely happy look for Basaltine, which turned into a slightly embarrassed smile at Helmine. At least she managed an even-voiced "Hello".

She was not sure she wanted to say anything if she had to trust Basaltine to translate.

She glanced at Sylvie and nodded. "Hello. You can call me Helmine. Just a former soldier."

Basaltine relayed this accurately -- Helmine would have noticed immediately if he hadn't.

Sylvie thought about that a moment and said appreciatively, "You are the first former soldier I met who didn't in the same breath start bragging they'd survived."

Upon hearing the translation, Helmine looked a little amused. "Don't have to. Am here, no? Idiots like those should realise they've a future to be worried about instead."

Sylvie nodded and smirked back. "I think they were mostly fishing for free drinks."

"Precisely," Helmine said with a nod. Well well. Colour me impressed. "No other care in the world except a parched throat."