Herbalists' Cache Taste Of Fame

Her words were sweet, sickly so and the sea witch found himself cringing from the falseness her tone carried. The sea witch responded with a slow leer upon his lips and a roll of his eyes. He had no patience for the attitude or her false pretenses. He'd only came here to gather medicinal plants for his cache back at the Bay — not to deal with trembling females that acted like he had no business being there; though if that was truly what she thought (this was merely Riptide's own assumption, mind, as he didn't truly know) then her words would mean that she had no business there either. “Mhm,” Riptide hummed in agreement. “I wasn't planning on going anywhere, regardless.” He told her with a twitch of a smile that didn't meet his eyes, simply because it hadn't been a smile of mirth. It had been a tight thing, unable to deduce what he thought of her but unable to help that she had yet to make an appealing case to him.

She had no right to chase him from free territory as far as Riptide was concerned, though, the way she held her leg out awkwardly and at an angle that the sea witch perceived to be unnatural he doubted she would do a whole lot of chasing. Admittedly, he wasn't sure what he was looking to stock up on while she had zeroed in on a plant he recognized as Chickweed. He moved a good few paces away from her, willing to ignore her as she ignored him as he sniffed at the ground, fiery gaze looking for something he did not yet have at his disposal.