[ There have been pros and cons to this camping excursion for Quincy. The supplies have been a boon for a man that vastly prefers to make his own clothing and do his own cooking, but he hadn’t been entirely thrilled with the new noise pollution. At the very least, the campsite isn’t right on top of where he’s been diligently working on his cabin. Though it isn’t completely finished, there’s enough done for him to take shelter and avoid the new campers.

He steps outside at the familiar sound of fluttering feathers. Unlike the rest of the guests stomping around the vale and making a mess, Getian is a welcome guest. A kindred spirit that had taken up a home in the forest because it had felt right… and because, like Quincy, the suites aren’t suitable for a Miemeng bird’s size. Not at the ranks they had been assigned, anyway. ]

Good morning. [ he sighs, casting a glance in the direction of those “new neighbors,” ] Me neither. I don’t expect they’ll stay long.

[ Then, he returns the smile with one of his own. A small thing, as gestures with Quincy often are, but genuine. Stepping into his front yard, he nods down toward something fabric folded in his arms. Quincy had brought it outside with him at the sound of feathers and Getian’s voice.

The bolts of fabric had been the greatest plus of the unwelcome new neighbors. ]

I made something for you. You don’t have to wear it… you can do whatever you want with it.

[ He shakes it out to reveal a carefully tailored cloak. Double layered and handsome, with the inside a green gingham and the outside a deep forest, soft fabric treated to repel rain. It includes a hood and simple collar with a green gemstone clasp, something he had rummaged through the “craft” supplies at the campsite to find. It had taken hours of patience to construct, giving it proper shape and handsome edges. Thankfully, patience is something Quincy has in spades.

He steps forward to offer the cloak to Getian. ]

… they’re letting so much go to waste over there. It should be put to use.