"No."
"Why?"
"Because I said no, Tim."
"Noomi, I just -"
"Tim, Gods damn it, I said no, and I meant no. Not only do you wish for me to waste my time, but my materials as well. The answer is no, and the answer will always be no. I'm not going to go out and kill a Gods damned rabbit, skin it, and then dye it just so you can present a thrall that you fancy with a gift. You must just take her to wife, and that is all that you must do. She will have no choice in the matter, and it will be at that point that you can stop skulking around after her in hopes that she graces you with a soft smile or a gentle touch."
Noomi paused for a moment to catch her breath. Tim opened his mouth, but before he could speak again, Noomi was rambling once more.
"It takes me time to find materials for my craft. Purple flowers - great quantities - to make violet dye. I must bleed out many creatures for both brown dye and red. Green is from a certain plant that grows in the water, and for that I must force groups of thralls to dive and retrieve. The metallic silver comes from an odd, shiny stone that must be ground. This, too, requires many thralls. Blue dye can only be coaxed from an odd plant that burns the feet to crush."
Noomi once more paused to catch her breath, and Tim took the opportunity to speak.
"I understand it, Noomi, I do. I am willing to do whatever I must. I will pick the flowers for you, and I will help squish the plants or whatever you need me to do. And I can kill my own rabbit or badger - this is not an issue, Noomi, I just want to do something nice for Miela so that she warms up to me a little. I don't want to force her to be my wife, force her to do anything she doesn't want to."
The way he said it made the entire act sound rather distasteful.
"And I love her, but I'm not going to lie, I don't think I want to be like... I don't want to be a husband. Yet. I mean, I don't have a job here, and I just kind of keep an eye on the thralls and stuff when I'm bored which is how I saw Miela and now I'm ... well, she knows I like her, but --"
"Ach, you talk too much, Tim. Has anyone ever told you that? And you worry far too much. Have you talked to the girl, told her how you feel."
"Yes."
"And?"
"She thinks I'm weird, Noomi. She thinks I don't have a lick of sense, and she thinks that I'm awkward and strange."
"You are that."
"Not nice."
"I won't lie to you, Tim. You're a horrible sort, truth be told, and I can see why she thinks you're weird. Following her around like some sort of creeper. It's disgraceful, you know. Simply awful, and you're lucky she hasn't complained to anyone about you and your creeping ways."
Tim gave her a confused look.
"Aye, well, I suppose you've every right to be confused. You're a freeborn, and she's a thrall. It isn't like she's going to tattle on you. I've seen the way she looks after you. She might think you weird, but I think she likes it. I think you flatter her, and all females do enjoy a bit of flattery."
Tim grunted, and Noomi laughed as she turned back to her duties. A large mound of orange leaves and flowers dominated the center of her den, and with a soft purr of happiness, Noomi dove into the pile with her paws, kneading and mashing the bits together. She looked thoughtful for a long moment before turning her eyes back to Tim.
"Fine. I'll help you. But you are going to belong to me for the duration. If I give an order, you follow it. If I tell you to spend four hours mashing plants, you'll spend four hours mashing plants. If I tell you to dig around in giraffe s**t, you'll dig around in giraffe s**t."
Tim didn't look thrilled by the talk of giraffe s**t. He didn't really want to ask what might be useful in the mounds of fecal matter, and so he didn't ask.
"Agreed. I agree. Fine. When do we start? What should I do first?"
"You'll need a pelt first. I would seek out a tanner, first, and see if they have anything that might strike your fancy. If they do, bring it to me. If they don't, well, go out and find your own pelt, and clean it, dry it. Perhaps you should seek out Dalla. See if she's got any beads to string, and see if she'll connect it to the fur for you. Or better yet, ask her what sort of fur is best for connecting beads to. There is much about tendons and leathers that I do not know about."
"I can do that. I can do that, Noomi. You won't regret helping me. I promise." He sounded entirely too eager, and Tim knew it, but he couldn't help it. Noomi was one of the best dyecrafters in the pride. She'd been doing it since she was a cub, so Tim had been told, and so of course she'd been the first lioness he'd stopped to ask for assistance.
"We'll see about that," Noomi grunted, shaking her head as she continued to work the pile of plantmatter into a crumbly, slightly damp substance. Now and then she'd dip her paws into a nearby shell filled with water before returning to the mass of plantstuff.
"Now off with you - but before you go, take that shell and fill it with water from the lake. Bring it back. Then you can go about doing whatever it is you need to do."
As Tim ran off with the shell, he couldn't help but smile. She was a bit rough around the edges, that Noomi, but she'd agreed to help him woo Miela.
He was ecstatic.
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