Lon'qu paced nervously as he contemplated his latest dilemma. During lunch, Panne had approached him in front of the entire camp, and asked him to accompany her for the afternoon, not twenty minutes past. Under the scrutiny of the others, Lon'qu had no choice but to accept. He could already hear Lissa and Maribelle giggling behind the tents, his name joining Panne's as the latest source of camp gossip.
They had nothing better to do, he supposed. The war was taking its toll on everyone, and each individual had their own methods of coping. Already, he could see the others turning to their hobbies to distract themselves from the terrors of the battlefield.
For him, of course, there were none. The only things that kept him sane were the potions the Taguel brewed him whenever he dared to visit her tent. It was luck that he had stumbled something that could rid him of the nightmares that plagued his sleep. Still, he had found himself visiting her more frequently over the past month, even when he had no need for her concoctions.
Lon'qu started toward the woman's tent, his mind racing. Why had she called for him? Could she have found out that he did not actually need so many potions? That couldn't be it. He never told anyone, and unless he cried out in his sleep, which he was sure he didn't, nobody else knew of his nightmares. Perhaps she was tired of his requests? That was feasible enough. The Taguel was much like himself, preferring to be in her own company than in the company of others. Or maybe she thought he was nothing but a hindrance altogether? There weren't many who could stand his personality, after all. He always was alone, and he preferred it that way. The fewer connections he had to the people around him, the less he would feel if they perished in battle. He had learned that lesson early on. Yet, as he neared Panne's tent, he couldn't help but feel that he wanted—no, he needed her companionship.
Looking up, he saw Panne waving from a nearby hill and jogged to join her.
"Hello Panne," he greeted.
"You're late," she replied, with no emotion. "Come, we've only a little time before the sun sets."
Perplexed, Lon'qu watched as the Taguel walked to a small bush. Reaching deep into the plant, she pulled out a small star-shaped plant.
"This is the herb we'll be collecting. They grow near the base of these bushes." she stated simply, "I need you to collect a bag of them."
Panne handed both the herb and a satchel to Lon'qu, who stood there blankly.
"Something wrong?" she inquired, "Is there something you do not understand?"
"N-No," came a stammered reply, "I was just wondering."
"Wondering what?"
"Wondering why…you asked me here. Why we're collecting weeds."
Panne tapped her foot impatiently.
"Because you're my friend. Friends do things for each other, no?" She sniffed, crossing her arms. "Plus, those are not weeds. They're the herbs for your potion. You've used them all up."
Lon'qu spent the next three hours picking the wretched things, bending his body in ways he'd never imagined. The blasted things were not merely found at the base of bushes. No, they grew everywhere in small sparse patches. Along trees, between rocks, amid crags, everywhere. He was silently grateful that the Taguel had even gone so far as to share these with him in the first place; he certainly would not have. It was far too much of a hassle, and he feared his hands were forever stained a sickly shade of green.
By the time the bag was filled, his back ached, his arms were lacerated, and he was pretty sure he had sat on some sort of prickly plant. Panne met him at the base of the hill with a small cup in hand.
"I'm done," he grumbled, thrusting out his arm, bag in hand.
"Well done," she replied, exchanging his bag for the cup. "Here's your share of the potion."
She watched as Lon'qu downed the drink, frowning as she noted the scratches on his arms. Several of them were bleeding.
"You're bleeding," Panne declared. She reached over and fished a stick out of his hair, flicking it to her side. "Come. I have bandages in my tent." Turning swiftly, she headed toward her shelter.
Lon'qu stared pointedly at the ground. So that was it? He had overthought things ad Panne just wanted him to help her pick weeds?
"Are you coming?" She stood at the front of her tent, beckoning.
Whatever, he decided. It was no use worrying about those things. He would deal with them when they came. Smiling, he started toward her tent.
"Of course!"