"If you can avoid bein' hit or takin' much punishment, you got a better chance of winnin' and besides no one likes to get hurt."

"I'll keep that in mind." Aoife said, though the odds of her getting into a fistfight were probably quite low. Probably.

She glanced around at the shack as they approached, intrigued by how one lived out in the wild. Not that she could imagine ever settling somewhere like this, but the mere fact that Robert did was proof it was possible. A seal brown mule watched her with docile eyes, and she approached the creature as though to pat it.

"I suppose I should admit I ain't much of a carpenter and for even that I had some help to put 'er up."

"Does the job, doesn't it?" Aoife said with a shrug, pausing in her advance on the mule. It's presence added a Don Quixote flair to the whole Crusoe/Ali Baba pastiche, though she could hardly imagine Robert jousting windmills.

She shifted ever closer to the creature, holding out a hand to let it sniff her before petting it on the neck.

"I reckon it's homely. It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see." she recited, though the quote would probably go over the young prospector's head.

"I bought him from the prospector who helped me build my castle here, he was tired of it all and his health was fadin' or so he said so he sold me Abraham and his equipment fer a pittance and then walked off. I heard later he never got further than Kalispell where he died a few weeks later. One of them docs, the old one, said his heart gave out. He was a nice ol' sort. The prospector not the doc."

"That's a shame." Aoife intoned, as she began to more boldly pat the mule. "Abraham's a wise-looking feller. I'm sure he'dve missed his master."

She finished by stroking his mane (which, really, could have used a brush), and now content, she rounded on Robert, standing straight. "Well, can I've a look inside?" she asked. This real-life storybook business intrigued her to no end, and she half expected to find seven little dwarfs sitting within - or something of similar intention.

"The cabin?" Robert said, a look of surprise on his face.

Aoife nodded. "Aye, the cabin."

"Well, first off ye need ta know, I wasn't expectin' visitors. It's crowded in there and ....well, messy." he began, but even as he did so he was crossing to the door and opening it. Aoife followed, stepping over idle sticks and turned-up dirt until she could peek inside the little domicile.

It was, as she had expected; rather a barebones interior, with a crockpot, lantern, cot, and various other bits and pieces of which Robert busied himself in tidying or hiding with equal measure.

"Home, not much but home."

"It's nice." Aoife simply said. It was nice, in a storybook sort of way, but she couldn't imagine living in it. Robert must have been a persistent man indeed, if he could endure winter after winter in such conditions, all in the name of striking it rich. "Have you ever... y'know... gotten hurt? Bad? Enough that you couldn't get into town?" she asked, seemingly numb to the grim nature of the question. Of course safety and health were at the forefront of her mind as a nurse, but to her, it was a question of practicality, rather than sensitivity. It conjured up the question, though; how did frontiersmen manage when they fell ill? Or broke something?

"Hurt? Oh, ye mean out here? No, nothin really. Few bumps n' scratches." said Robert. "I only been out here since.....well, this is my second year....second spring. Only had one winter so far and not sure I wanna do another one, to be sure."

Two years wasn't all that long, yes, but plenty could have gone wrong over that time, and the isolation still made Aoife uneasy for him. Her brow furrowed in thought, though she said nothing in response.

"Lemme get Abraham saddled so we can get you inta town." Robert told her, and so Aoife gave the interior one last glance before emerging back out into the forest with a quick "thanks."

"If... well... if you need help, you know... should you ever get hurt, don't hesitate to call." she said, quite suddenly.

"Thank you. If I be not too hurt to come to you wherever you end up stayin', I will most certainly do that then. And just maybe by the grace of God, I may just have found enough gold to pay for yer treatin' me."

"I'd consider it a favor, of course." she quickly said, a little hurt that he'd regard her offer as one of business. "Y'know, for... all this."

Aofie had never been very good at riding. She had once tried to take a pony around the Milford outbuildings as a dare - back in those years when she would have accepted dares - and had quickly fallen off, leaving her with bruises on both her body and her ego. Needless to say she approached the saddled Abraham with a degree of trepidation, but did not make to protest at Robert's suggestion that she ride. That would be rude, and probably wasteful of his time.

So, with an uneasy step, she was boosted up onto the mule's back, where she held on to the saddle horn for dear life. Her skirt did not make the affair any easier, and was forced to hang her legs both off to one side, lest she tear the wretched thing.

"I do not mind the walk and it be easier on Abraham's back if we do it this way." Robert said, to which Aoife merely gave an "Mm-hm."

"So, Aoife, tell me....what do you like most about this here country?"

"Oh, er, I couldn't really say." she replied, voice slightly pitch-shifted with anxiety. The way that Abraham's scapula rolled with each step was sending her lurching in a very unbecoming sort of way. "I suppose it's a very... intrepid sort of place. I could imagine plenty of stories set here."

Truthfully, the first thing she had thought of was how free she felt, being away from her family, but that seemed a little indelicate, given Robert's current position.