Closed Inquisition (Garran)

[Zed]

He cocked an eyebrow, at first, to Garran's admiration of his flight speed. To him it was a little weird. The other Endal always made an effort to question Zovah's speed, in comparison to some of the other eagles. His beast wasn't exactly the fastest, but he was one of the largest and strongest. Which actually made him realize -- the look on Garran's face would be priceless when he actually saw the thing. That, or it'd be really dull and it'd ruin the whole experience. The outcome of choice was the former. "Yep, we're pretty amazing," he finally responded, after his long mental discussion on whether or not the Vantha would give a damn about the size of his eagle. His ego didn't really need to debate anything, though -- it was enjoying the praise that seemed to constantly flow towards it. His level of self-obsession never changed, Reach or not. He made sure to carefully absorb every compliment like a swarm of flies.

Of course, the reflexes of said ego still warranted that Zed took the time to pinch Garran on the arm, when he pointlessly corrected him. "I never said you didn't." The random flash of attitude may have made things seem awkward in the Vantha's mind, but the Inarta enjoyed the talk they had going on. He listened carefully to what he had to say, especially since it was about family. Family... fascinated him, a little. He had lived with his father for a time, but the man was always having sex with everything. Not really much of a dad, eh? Although, he imagined he'd be the same, if he ever got drunk enough to impregnate someone. "You people actually get married?" That topic was something that freaked him out a little. Sticking to one person? It was romantic, obviously, but impossible, in his eyes. "I'm guessing it never lasts, right? People are too fickle. Flimsy morals; flimsy feelings. And everyone has a different opinion than the people surrounding them. Getting married to someone won't change their human nature." That was a good taste of Endal logic. It was better to rationalize why he was promiscuous with fair reasoning than to try something new.

Marriage didn't really happen in the Reach, anyhow. The closest thing was an Endal to their eagle, which was way off. Thankfully to the gods, it wasn't a loving or sexual thing. But they stood by each other forever. Still, what consecrated this bond was... instinct. It wasn't anything as difficult as "liking them for their personality"... or whatever the foreign kids talked about these days. "Your 'life' with these people really boggles the mind. Why live with a deadweight? Now that your mother is growing older, she can't provide for you. Surely it's time to throw her out the window?" He wasn't even joking. It was the survival of the fittest, and the old... they weren't fit. Er... maybe that came off as rude? "Well, maybe I just don't understand the value of good ol' love and harmony. Also, wait, what? You and your brother got married? Oh, uh, nevermind." Heh... that short moment proved to have its fair share of awkward. And the moment behind it was far longer and far more tense.

This talk of family and custom made him feel a little sick to his stomach. But he tolerated it, if not because of the will to learn or... maybe because every child had their fair share of childish fantasies about getting whisked away to wedlock with a beautiful princess or charming prince. He was sure it wasn't so glamorous, but this was the closest he'd gotten to witnessing the results of these dreams. "I was raised with many others, too. Like all of my kind, I was a Yasi once. My peers were less like my brothers and sisters and more like my..." He couldn't really think of a word. Maybe, toilets? Or dartboards? "More like my toilets, or dartboards, varying by day. I'm impressed with your ability to actually tolerate sharing your broodmother with these people. Stamp of approval." He had been giving a lot of those to Garran, since they met. Too bad he didn't bring an actual stamp...

After hearing Garran speak of his... roommates, his parents, brothers, his sister, his nieces... Zed was sure that he was going to dive away and go find an old lady to impose on. How was there even room for one less? "I'll... take your word for it." What did that make the number count, nine? Depends on how many parents he had, really... was it one father, none, or did two men share? Must've been the case, for her to have so much spawn. 'Broodmother' was the right classification. Apparently, she was also a bossy one. And maybe an overbearing one. "Throw her out the window, already." He had verified to himself that she was at least unbecoming of a full-fledged man. Garran could've had better. He really didn't get it.

"It's possible for me to not talk. If you want, I can just stare at her for twenty whole minutes with my mouth wide, like a screaming hippo. My father used to do that whenever I tried to talk to him, although I think he just didn't really like my personality." He had mastered this art of his father's, though -- by giving the look right back to him. It would've been really fun if he could share this elaborate family heritage with his wise and generous hosts. And... it also would've been fun if he could at least get Garran to stop being evasive about one of their subjects. He didn't go much further, though. The signal hadn't been given back by now, and he wasn't desperate. Maybe later, he could be more inquisitive about it. "Fine by me. Your bed's probably nicer than whatever mine is. And, I'll get the enjoyment of knowing that you're sleeping in some depressing guest room, wishing you had enough of a pair to join me." And that was it, for that matter.

Still, he made an effort to watch Garran as they continued to walk by. He usually liked to abstain from forcing eye contact, but there was a lot in this man's expression that felt kind of... motivating to him. He always looked very happy, even when he may have not... actually been happy. Right now, he could tell that he was thinking. Probably about horses or something lame like that.

As they approached what Garran begged to implicate was his front door, Zed stood idly by, waiting for him to start and finish talking. Everything he said got funnier and slightly more adorable as he went on. He almost swore that he just laughed, which was serendipity for him. He just... couldn't imagine what he was hearing. "..." It was just silence, an exhale. Shortly after, he pulled his arms out of his cloak, arms that had been crossed to keep him warm, and patted the Vantha on the shoulder. "That was almost adorable. You don't need to worry about me, my silly horse-banging friend. You've been good to me since I got here. And contrary to your own belief, I do owe you something. My respect." He didn't really need to say much more than that. He wasn't going to be rude or arrogant towards his family, even if really, he wanted to be. "Just... don't expect me to be personable." He was never good at that. Never very good...

"And... don't expect me to actually... laugh at their jokes or anything. Or to listen to their life story, or..." After a long list of random and possibly never-occurring sequences being X'd out, he felt totally ready to embrace... uh... family.

[Garran Frostfawn]

Everything that Zed had to say, as they had walked along to Garran’s family quarters, was pretty interesting, even if half of it was insulting as well. Garran had already come to the obvious conclusion that Zed was like the rest of the eagle riders that parked their butts in Avanthal for a trade visit – arrogant and mouthy and quite self-entitled. But it seemed a strange way of life indeed, what the flame haired foreigner described – no parents, for many of them. No marriage. No family. Being raised with others you weren’t related to – or maybe you were but you had no way to know it, if people didn’t marry. And the total lack of respect he had for really anybody, other than himself. It was all very, very different. Even the offhand ‘compliment’ seemed tongue in cheek – as in, here was one of the lowly locals who was just not quite as low as the others. Garran wondered if such an outlook on everyone else who inhabited the earth brought Zed and his kind any joy or happiness. He supposed it must – and he supposed that the rest of the Inarta had somehow learned to put up with such an attitude, or maybe they all shared in it. Who knew? Even the veiled invitation that was extended, re the bed sharing situation, was couched as an insult. Whoo boy – talk about knowing how to charm the pants off someone! That was a skill that Zed had apparently never cultivated – or maybe he was just hiding his talent in that arena – really, really, really well. So, as they stood before Garran’s door, what Zed said really flummoxed the Vatha – and his expression surely reflected the amazement he felt, when he heard that – somehow – he had managed to gain this overbearing, rude stranger’s respect. The laundry list of topics that Zed claimed he wouldn’t be held accountable for appropriate behavioral responses to went largely in one of Garran’s ears and right out the other. He was still…astonished, that he had made some sort of good impression on the Inarta. Perhaps Zed wasn’t as much of a demanding brat as he certainly came across as. Finally, though, he came around and heard what seemed to be the end of that long list of “will nots” and he held a hand up, palm outward, a gesture of acceptance and agreement… and perhaps submission, if you wanted to read it that way. Really what he wanted to do was the get Zed to shut up, so they could go inside. “Alright, alright…I didn’t get half of that – far too much to remember. But somehow I’m sure you’ll remind me if we get anything wrong – or expect too much. You are our guest after all.” He gave a little shake of his head again – because he found Zed exceptionally amusing – sometimes – and with that he opened the door and let the bird man enter before him. Garran stepped across the threshold and listened, but heard none of the familiar sounds of family life. No talking, no laughter, no sounds of food preparation coming from the kitchen area. “Hello,” he called out, stepping past Zed. Kicking his boots off, he was already moving to the huge hearth, which ran the length of the room and was dark and cold at the moment. Garran listened for a reply, but got none, as he had suspected he would not. Turning back to Zed, he shrugged and then motioned with his hand. “No-one home, I guess. Come in, have a seat.” His hand indicated a cluster of plumply stuffed chairs and a couch, all done in caribou hides. “I’ll get you a blanket, or I can fetch a fur if you prefer.” He hadn’t stopped moving to the hearth, and from a fire bucket to the side he extracted some burning embers with a set of iron tongs. There was tinder and kindling and wood already laid in a neat pyramid on a grate, and he applied the embers to the tinder, crouching down to blow on it. Within a trice, the tinder caught. Garran blew gently again and then rose upright. “I’ll be right back.” On bare feet he padded away – to his own bedroom actually, beyond the very tiny sitting room he had for himself, off the main one. Grabbing a blanket from a chest, he returned and brought it to his guest. “Here you go,” he said, extending it towards Zed. The blanket was a light brown shade and wooly. It was woven from quiviut – the undercoat of the musk ox – super warm, but very light weight. “Sorry, we don’t have any in pink,” he teased. “Though I guess that would just clash with your hair.” Garran reached a hand out to flick at the burning red locks that graced Zed’s head. “You hungry, princess?” he asked with a grin. “Thirsty? I’m no cook, but I could rustle up something that might go down alright – no promises though.”

[Zed]

The Inarta rolled his eyes; he made such an effort to list the impossibilities, and Garran didn't even care. "Pft. It's not that it's hard to remember. It's that you weren't even listening." Regardless, 'bird man' entered, as he was bid. It was a lot more quiet than he'd expected. No screaming broodmother, no idiotic siblings... they must've felt his royal presence, and decided to toss away their inferior form of conversation. Or something like that. "Quiet. Just how I like it." Normally that wouldn't have been true, but in this situation? Yes. He'd rather be surrounded by eight people who don't even bother to talk to him than eight who make a conscious effort.

Of course, he was struck with the feeling of relief when informed that no one was here. He had the entire place to himself! And... Garran, sort of. Making his way over to the implicated seat -- the couch -- his eyes carefully looked around the premise. Although, it wasn't very interesting to look at. It did feel like a real home, but... "Hey, I probably should've mentioned this earlier, but..." This was a little awkward to say. Surprisingly, he wasn't the type that was okay with imposing so much on others. He was too prideful to just sit back and mooch. "My 'vacation' here is going to last until the seventy-ninth. That's nearly two weeks from now. Not just one. Is that okay?" He supposed he could... help with whatever horse buggery Garran occupied his time with. But he certainly wouldn't volunteer.

Before he could divine an answer regarding the decision between blanket and fur, Garran was off. Zed didn't think much or do much, as he sat there, waiting. Although he was still a little cold, it was reassuring just to know that the feeling would go away soon. When the Vantha returned with the blanket, he lifted his red cloak over his head, and set it beside him. Underneath it was a red and gold vest, which was obviously not an outfit of choice if you were going to be in Avanthal. Wrapping the blanket around his body, the Inarta cozied up, and gleefully laid back against the surface. "The princess is saved," he muttered, his eyes closing shut, the rest of him making a simple effort to relax. "I don't feel too well after all of that. I think sitting here in front of a fire, for a while, would do me some good." It might actually turn out to be a long time of waiting, before he was ready to leave this spot. The cold had a more bitter effect on him than he thought. He wondered how it was for the eagle, right now.

It must've been far more bitter than what he was getting. He'd have to promise not to come to Avanthal again, even though he really did want to. Well, maybe he wouldn't, at the end of this two weeks. You never knew. He and Garran could be the best of friends, or the worst of enemies. "My hair very much appreciates like-minded company. I'm deeply saddened that you couldn't provide it with any pink." He had decided a long time ago that he'd just play along. He didn't really mind the teasing. It'd just make it all the more rewarding when he could kick Garran in the jewels before departure.

When asked about food, he just... well, he couldn't really make an action, he was totally immobile and covered with wool. Honestly, though, he was a little nervous about what he'd be eating. "I haven't had anything in a while, but..." The Inarta rolled his eyes, "That doesn't mean I'll eat your horse shit. I'll take promises that I'll enjoy it, or I'll just starve on this couch." The Reach may have been used to starving, but he was used to well-cooked meals and a full chest. The princess wasn't going to settle for anything less. "Hey, you..." he started, looking over at his new friend, and then at the fire. "Why don't you come sit over here? If we're going to spend two weeks rambling to each other, I'd rather we not do it from across the room." Despite how comfortable he felt, hogging the couch, he was more content to try and act like a "friend", for the time being. This whole adventure was an experiment, so...

"Do you have anything more... provocative to drink? Some liquor or wine?" He couldn't get paid enough by the reach to want to stay sober for this. The plan, really, was just to get drunk and snooze off. And maybe they could talk about their favorite color or some juvenile shit until the effect wore in. "I don't want to be sober or awake, when everyone gets back here. I don't want to be the center of attention. They'll expect me to play "pleasantries" with them until nighttime comes." With that simple thought, he sat up, and buried his face into a pillow. Just drawbacks for being too cold for too long.

[Garran Frostfawn]

Zed seemed to sink right down into the comfort of the overstuffed couch, pulling the blanket about himself with satisfaction, even his eyelids dropping shut. This gave Garran a moment to really look at him without any care for seeming to be rude. He wondered about it all, again – why a guy who was good looking and well built needed to be so damned arrogant and pushy - or was that all part of it? He was - simply because he could get away with it? But Garran felt a bit of satisfaction himself, seeing Zed looking so much more comfortable, because there was quite a bit of the nurturer in the Vantha. That was one reason he was good as a trainer. He cared. He chuckled as Zed took his little jibe about princess and pink in stride. At least the guy did have a sense of humor – sometimes. Of course, the Inarta went right back to being his more typical self, when he spoke about the potential Vantha fare. With the invitation to sit – on his own couch, mind you – Garran’s eyebrows went up in amusement. But instead of doing so, he went first to a wooden cupboard, and extracted a bottle, and two small cups made out of polished horn. He brought these over and sat beside the blanket swathed Diva, and unstoppered the bottle. From this, he poured two small portions of amber liquid – a potent, fruity smelling liqueur type of drink made from fermented and distilled blueberries. Offering one to Zed, he took the other for himself and downed it in one swallow. “This should do the trick,” he said wryly. “Half a bottle and you can sleep til morning. But otherwise, don’t worry. My family will only pester you if they know you welcome their efforts. Otherwise, they’ll leave you in peace.” He shook his head, thinking that this custom of hospitality was sure likely to be strained to the max with this character in their home. Garran poured himself another shot. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but he thought this occasion certainly warranted relaxing that rule. He felt like he deserved a bit of loosening up. Not too much though or his normal good humor and reserve might switch places with some hidden inner Talderan tiger and he might find himself trying to quiet those pretty lips with a nice knuckle sandwich – especially if Zed kept on throwing zingers at his mom. With cup in hand, not yet drinking it, he leaned back into the comfort of the couch and looked at the Inarta. “And I can’t make any promises you’ll like our food. Maybe we’ll forego the fermented seal flippers and a nice, raw elk steak would be satisfactory?” The last word had a teasing tone to it that was unmistakable. But he was still smiling – at least for now.”If you do decide to go on a hunger strike, maybe my bed would be more comfortable – a dead body here in the middle of the room would be kinda…offputting…you know? Other than that, you just sit here all you like.” The fire had caught and for the moment, the little pyramid of wood was burning well. He’d have to throw some more on in a bit, but for now he could just sit and relax – until the princess had some new command for him to fulfill. With his free hand, he rubbed at his jaw a bit, recalling what Zed had said a few minutes before – and which he had thought to postpone talking about until he had at least one drink under his belt. “So, uh, what’s that you said – about being here two weeks? Were you really serious?” He was giving Zed a sharp look, secretly hoping that he had misunderstood. It wasn’t that he thought Zed abysmal company. There had been a few seconds here and there where Garran actually had found him quite tolerable. “Do your fellow Inartans know this? I mean – how can you expect them to survive for so long without your august presence? And loving good nature?” His tone was completely lacking in sarcasm. But his eyes were dancing a merry shade of gold.

[Zed]

He was actually just starting to enjoy Garran's company -- the man had a decent appreciation for sarcasm, which was probably the only way to get Zed to ever laugh. Of course, he hadn't exactly mastered the trade, yet. That "pink" joke fell a little flat, at least in comparison to his Radiance's marvelous array of funny things. At the current time, though, Zed was rather occupied with drinking and couldn't bother to make a jest. The liquid was... interesting tasting. Not as strong as he'd hoped, and yet he still took a while to finish it. The Endal wasn't as hearty as Garran, and he just didn't want to down on a drink like that. Food was scarce in the reach; good drinking was scarcer. It seemed like such a waste to rush down the flavor.

But it was sort of appealing too, in a way. Garran was pretty much burned into his mind as the poster boy for the Vantha, now. An attitude like his was what he came here for -- someone nice, tolerable, who still managed to do it their own way. Not a pushover. In response, Zed stopped trying to... well, push him over. There was no reason to be rude anymore, especially since in reality, Zed didn't actually think to match his speaking. He didn't think he was some royal and that everyone was beneath him. The attitude just made him enjoy life more; everyone had a taste for the displeasure of others, when it came down to it. Right now, though, it wasn't his goal to make Garran stretch his hospitality.

"I won't welcome their efforts, but..." He gave Garran a little smile, but not much more than that. "You're free to pester me, if you feel like it. I give you my royal seal of approval, at least in regards to not being a dumbass. Your hag would surely be proud, if she was here." This was just... his way of asserting that he had become sort of fond of Garran. It wasn't often that he really felt like he was being cared for. Living "solo" could make someone a little curious about a life like this one. With people like Garran - people you could trust. "I don't eat better than most people in the world, my little trollop. Everything I eat was probably killed by me. And I'm not the best cook, so..." He sighed; didn't really know what he was going on about. "Well... basically, I'm trying to say that it'd be satisfactory." He was glad that the "seal" idea was being tossed, though... that sounded nasty. All slippery and... seal...y.

They were a little too cute to be a dish on his plate. Which was kind of strange, coming from a hunter. Anyway -- even though he wasn't going to partake in a hunger strike, he felt the need to respond to Garran, since it was probably one of the more interesting things he'd said so far. That, and speaking would distract him from the urge to smack that cheeky smile off of his face. Although, he... found himself smiling back, a bit. "I'm sure it would be more comfortable than dying on the couch next to your hag, but..." The flirting thing had died a while ago, but it sounded to him like Garran brought it back. Really... who asked someone explicitly to sleep in their bed? "It'd be even more comfortable if you were in it with me." Haha, that was kind of lame. But there it was; one of Zed's ceaseless attempts to go down on the Vantha. Sadly, none of them had really paid off so far. Maybe he was wearing too much? Ugh -- stupid cold was limiting his promiscuity.

After all of that, silence filled the room. Silence wasn't really that fun, but it wasn't too bad. It gave him time to think -- about what to say, about why he was here, everything. He thought about what to say if his family interjected on all of this. And in the back of his mind, there was a trail of scenarios going on that all had to do -- in some way -- with how he'd get into Garran's pants. Yep, his thoughts weren't holy or anything, but they were private, so who cared?

As time went on, he buried himself deeper into that blanket that had been given to him. Eventually, the only thing left uncovered was the front of his head. He kind of felt like a big blah, but damn, the cold didn't get any better with time. The Inarta was almost so preoccupied with alleviating the cold that he missed what Garran had said, but he knew better than to space out for too long. At least he got the better end of it. "Yes, I was really serious. Why? Don't like me being here?" He smiled for a second, but not for a moment longer. Well, until Garran cracked the joke about... er, whatever you'd call that. That was actually kind of funny. Maybe. He wouldn't flatter the joke too much! "My fellow Inarta ran in circles, their heads falling to the floor. The ones with heads still left screamed for me not to go, but I had to reject their pleas. After all, the rest of the world needs my presence as well. I decided -- how will the Vantha survive the never-ending winter without a light of hope? And so, I came here..." And to finish that story: "And only managed to convert one person to my religion. I suppose not every expedition is a guaranteed success."

This one was probably a failure, regardless of what happened with Garran. Even if they became best friends fur laif, there was still the fact that... off in the distance, Zovah was probably plotting the death of his rider. He actually really felt bad about this -- shoving his eagle into the cold, having him work while Zed sat back and did... nothing. Well, whatever. If you wanted a life of privilege, you had to pay for it. Even the Wind Eagles could be held to that. "It's been a long day, Garran. I'd rather not make it longer, unless you can find some reason for keeping me up. Can you take me to one of the rooms? Your room, or a guest room... I suppose it depends on your intention." He almost slyly added that last part in, but it was obvious enough to know what he meant. The Endal had gotten a lot more assertive, in the past few minutes. It could've been the drink, or it could've been the fact that he felt so cold and miserable. These kind of conditions didn't suit him. It was best to find a distraction from them.

OOClol Zed is a hoe.

[Garran Frostfawn]

Garran continued his casual perusal of his Inarta guest, as the redhead spoke, replying to whatever Garran had to offer. Sometimes in wry jests, and sometimes with yet another rude slur – but never could it be said this Zed was at a loss for words. That was somewhat unfortunate… The smirk that seemed permanently housed on Zed’s face, only to switch places occasionally with that haughty ‘my shit don’t stink’ look, sometimes – once or twice – actually slid into a more genuine smile – one that bespoke the possibility that the Endal really did have a heart – somewhere, under those fancy togs. He was an intriguing puzzle of a man, and Garran found that, really, he sort of liked the snarky smart assed ginger. At least he certainly had more than a fair share of balls – and a mouth to match. Though he felt that Zed was definitely one of those people who used humor, and insult, to keep something at bay – or maybe that was just Garran’s own inner demons coloring his perceptions. Maybe Zed really was...just a douche. The reply to Garran’s innocent remark about Zed executing his fast in Garran’s own bed brought a grin and a raised eyebrow from the Vantha. “I’m sure it would be,” he replied, fixing Zed with a somewhat inscrutable look – one that could have meant just about anything – from I’m dead serious here to I’m flirting my ass off here and I don’t care what you might think about that. He rested his chin between his thumb and fingers, elbow resting on bent knee, facing and almost sitting beside the recumbent wind rider. “But I only meant that you’d be welcome to have it all to yourself. If I was there, I’d just want to be stuffing things in your mouth all the time. You know... trying to get you to eat. I think it’s bad luck to have a guest starve under your roof – or…something like that.” His expression was quite unreadable, but his eyes were swirling gold and orange and red in an almost hypnotizing pattern. Zed apparently had nothing to say to that, so Garran had moved on, to ask about the potential length of his stay. The Inarta snuggled down into the exceedingly warm and light blanket, and Garran was secretly pleased to think that Zed was finally warming up. It was rather peaceful here, in his home, without all the others back just yet. The fire crackled and it definitely would need seeing to in the next little bit. When Zed informed him that he had indeed been serious about it being a two weeks stay, Garran shook his head, negating the suggestion that he didn’t want Zed there – though – it was early days yet. “No, I just wanted to make sure I understood you right,” he replied easily, his expression frank. “I need to ….perpare…my family. And they will need to prepare…for you.” He chuckled, but then Zed’s next descriptor of the alleged state of affairs back home, engendered by his departure, made Garran laugh outright, to the point it took him a moment to catch his breath so he could speak. “Oh, no doubt, no doubt. I can see it all so clearly in my head. Those poor redheads – so bereft! Yet on behalf of all Vantha in the city, I have to extend my thanks – to them for letting you leave, howsoever reluctantly – and to you, for gracing us with your presence.” Shaking his head with mirth, Garran reached for the bottle of liqueur and refilled both their cups. “And one worshipper in as many hours! Don’t despair, princess. You have two full weeks – I’m sure all of Avanthal will be at your feet by the time you depart.” He raised his little horn cup and added, “To the prince that rides the stars, may your followers be as unnumbered as the drops of water in the ocean.” And with that grandiose jab, he downed the cup in one swallow. He felt a little bit bad – just a very, very tiny bit, mind – when Zed seemed to cave to his fatigue – or was it ennui? – and asked to be put to bed. he preferred his prince lively. But Garran smirked to himself at the audacity of the little minx – he had to give the guy credit – he had all the nerve that Endals were famed for. Garran nodded his assent. “Alright. Let me build up the fire a bit more.” Rising, he went to the extra long hearth and did as he said, adding on some wood in a skilled manner, so that it would burn the longest and to greatest effect. Then he returned to his self-imposed charge and said, “Follow me, your majesty.” With a bright eye, he led Zed the very short distance to the door that led on into his own little sitting room – it was just big enough for a desk/table, and chair, and two comfy stuffed chairs that were set before a raised hearth, which was cold at the moment. Garran didn’t pause, but went through the next doorway, into a small bedroom. Again, it was just large enough for a double bed and a chest at the foot, with another longer, skinnier chest running along the wall, over which were hooks for his clothes. The bed was soft – multiple cloth mattresses stuffed with eider down – and covered with blankets and furs. The warmth of the fire he’d started in the living room didn’t reach this far, but the covers should have been adequate to keep even a Benshira warm and cozy. With a nod, he indicated his bed, saying, “Stretch your scrawny bones out in that m’dear. You’ll be sleeping like a baby in no time. I’ll tell my family to keep down the noise. Though, fair warning, they’ll be as curious as cats when you emerge from your beauty sleep.” He smiled warmly, the corners of his lips twerking up as if he wanted to laugh. “Anything else you’re in need of, m'lord?”

[Zed]

OOCThere have been changes to the trade routes as of a few days ago. It was initially that I could stay in Avanthal for two weeks, but now it's 4 days of traveling there and back and only 5 days of actually being there. So, just take the whole "two weeks" thing with a grain of salt. I'll just pretend Zed was trolling him. Oh, and this might possibly be my last post of the thread, since he's pretty much goin' nappy-time. Let's make sure to do another thread together, even if only on the 72nd, the day he leaves. xD

Garran seemed to like examining him. Well, he couldn't blame him really, but it was quite distracting for the ginger. He felt like every time he cracked a smile, the Vantha was staring at it. Every time he said something rude, he shot him down from the sky with an artillery of glares. This man was definitely very welcoming, but he also felt pressure here. If someone was always watching, then they'd witness your slip-ups as much as they would your benefits. He wasn't quite sure which he had more of, at least to this little foreigner. "You have a talent about you, you know," he finally started. "Your words and your eyes say two different things. Or -- maybe your words just have hidden meanings. I don't really know; semantics are lost on we bird lovers. As is direction, intelligence, and maybe even the ability to get it up past age twenty-five." In a way, he was inquiring about what Garran was thinking. He didn't like it, being left out of the inner-workings.

The more time went on, the more likely it seemed like he wasn't going to be having any company tonight. Sad, because he had been looking forward to it. Maybe it was the alcohol dulling his senses a bit, but the man suddenly came off as somewhat cross. Inarta were all very honest, very blatant, and that was probably about to shine through. Depending on how far gone his sobriety was. Not very far, at the moment. The lack of coherent thought really just made him feel like a vegetable. "I never let my guests starve under my roof. I always feed them well and proper. You should learn what it is to be a proper host." Garran probably wouldn't have anything to say to that. But Zed was sure his eyes would. They always said something, even though he could rarely make it out. He could've sworn they kept changing color, too...

He almost felt stupid for not noticing that, earlier. Eventually, after at least a few moments of resigning himself to just laying back against the couch, Garran spoke once more. What he said was sort of funny, though. "You think it's possible to prepare someone for this level of manliness?" Hey, maybe it was a queer thought, but he always did feel quite manly. Especially around these Vantha hippies.

He enjoyed Garran's laughter at his joke, and it didn't take long before he was laughing with him. It felt good. Revitalizing, to be able to let loose. When the laughter had subsided, a small smile remained. He stared at Garran's eyes for a moment, which seemed to change a little, again. Or maybe he was just seeing things? "Redheads can't feel bereft...ness." He didn't even know what that word meant exactly, but he was sure it was something distressing... maybe. "It was more like an absolute terror, coming down upon all of them. Especially the men. The men can't live without me." You could probably make a few assumptions to that statement. At least one of them would be correct. "Avanthal must not have many people, if it'd only take two weeks to get you all. Sadly, I think I'd have to compete with your cute little Goddess Queen in order to win the city, and I've never been fond of my fellow divinity." He was still wondering who that chick was. To Zed, she just sounded like a stoned Konti. But -- he didn't care much about Morwen. Garran was way more interesting.

Garran was more interesting than most people he'd met so far. Not just in Avanthal, but anywhere. He was excited to stay here for much longer. To learn about his new friend. "I don't think there are as many people as there are drops in just one pond," was all he said in response to Garran's over-exaggerated exclamation. And with that, there was silence for long enough that he couldn't really bear it. Gingers survived off the sound of their own voice, for sustenance. When Garran did say something, it wasn't very interesting. When he said something again, it was actually somewhat dreadful. He had made himself all comfortable on this sofa... and now he had to arise? "I don't wanna," the Inarta said. "His majesty tells you to carry him." He paused for a moment, then laughed a little. He was joking, obviously. With an overly long sequence, he rose from his position, and stood up. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable; so much that he wanted to just jump right back on.

He only followed for the potential of getting fed by his Vantha friend. The offer had become so intriguing, he just couldn't hide his giddiness. Really. Of course, the room wasn't so bad either. It looked cozy, and warm and whatnot. Probably not enough to banish the possibility of turning into an icicle, but that was no big deal. Gingers were immune to cryogenic stasis. Anyhoo, back to the subject matter... "Tell them to be as loud as possible. They'll need it to mask your moaning," he grinned. For his first night here, the last thing he wanted to do was sleep like a baby in no time. That wasn't a very memorable thing at all. It was always at night, when lives were changed. Even in small ways. It was at night that people woke up to reality. He took a few steps forward, standing in front of the Vantha, his back turned to him. After a short time of waiting, he finally gathered his thoughts, and decided to be himself. "Yes," he started, "I'm in need of you." It was already obvious before, but it couldn't get any more blatant when he said that. Especially when, after no pause, he pulled at Garran's arm and made sure that he did not let go. Not without victory or death.

[Garran Frostfawn]

Neither victory nor death were likely to be in the offing for the Inarta, as Garran did not immediately attempt to withdraw his arm from Zed’s grip, but instead offered up this response to his blatant ‘suggestion.’ “Ah, well, that’s a need I can’t fill. Not here, and not now. There are so many Frostfawns that we do have to live sort of heaped on top of one another, and that means that some discretion is called for, in order to not make things uncomfortable for the rest. Honestly, I don’t fancy my family returning to spend their evening wondering about all this moaning you’re proposing.” He grinned at the sheer cheekiness of the redhead, then gently pulled his arm away. “So, I’ll leave you to your dreams, princess. And when you awake, we’ll see if we can’t tempt those royal taste buds with some of our commoners’ fare.” He gave Zed a friendly pat on the back, and turned to leave him to his slumber.