"It was kind of you to give him your water like that." Logue's voice danced in her ear as they sat by a fire kindled just outside the massive stone entrance to the Earthen Furnace. The soft glow of the fire danced along the carved walls, casting eerie shadows that flickered and shifted with every popping ember. Rustica looked over to him, laying away from the flames in hopes of cooling herself from their previous journey. The firelight danced in her eyes as she watched him across the fire. His cream gaze was attentive, almost studying, but bright with a vibrance that had long flickered in the others.

        She couldn't help but flush again as his hair had fallen from the braiding, wavy and framing his strong features. "Oh, well, I couldn't just do nothing."

        Logue gestured to the side, "Still," he smiled down at her, "Good to see new dungeon divers who'll help the needy out rather than think only for themselves."

        A bashful grin weasled onto her muzzle and she looked back down to the fire. "If it were one for all then I feel that we coursers would have perished long ago."

        "Perhaps you're right." He chuckled, shaking away the strands of crimped toffee drapping from his nape. A silence fell between them, poignant and long. Rustica couldn't bring herself to look back up to him, but in the same breath wanted to keep staring. No one had effected her like this before, and it was growing steadily frustrating. She'd have to avoid working with Logue in the future at this rate - he was too distracting from his beautiful eyes, chiseled muscles, and handsome face.

        Finally he seeemd to shift. "So... what'd you find down there?"

        Rustica looked up at him, stricken stupid from the sudden break in silence. They'd managed to find some discarded crates and barrels on the way back. Some of it had been given to the fellow they rescued in hopes that he'd have something to show for his efforts, while she pocketed the rest. "Well..." she began, unsure why she was so hesitant to share. Was it that, or she was afraid to engage him further? "I found a band of some sort, figured I'd have it appraised, and I also found...." She rose from her lounge on the floor, ambled to her pack, and dug through. Logue tried to peer around her out of curiosity, but straightened as she turned back around. Twixt her teeth was a ripe, juicy apple. It's skin was a tantilizing red that held a lustrous shine.

        "Oh..." He muttered, staring at it.

        Rustica walked over, slowly, her steps clipped with anxiety and nerves. She placed it on the ground at his hooves. The meaning of the ripe fruit wasn't lost on him, she could see it as she peered beneath a veil of her umber forelock. A lump in her throat threatened to keep her silent, but she forced it down and caught Logue in the eye.

        "Would... would you like to share it with me?"

        "I would like that."