[Rearing Stallion] Stories over lunch (Phipreas, Ora, Open)

[Ora Sa'vina]

The Konti smiled, her hands resting on her thighs. "It appears that I am not," The young woman gave the Akvatari a great deal of credit, he had written something beautiful and evoking. People felt something when he spoke, they would feel what lovers caged away from each other could feel through his voice. "I have no doubt that you will be able to accomplish that, Phipreas." Ora's eyes moved from the man next to her to the small remainder of food on her plate, she continued to eat, finishing off what remained of the meat.

"Do you know what it will be about?" The Konti asked, her eyes and fingers focused on the plate before her. She did not expect the man to know exactly what he would write of, but perhaps he knew a general idea. "Traveling? Fighting?" Her eyes flashed over to Phipreas as her finger held a small piece of bread. "Perhaps you will write of a hero?" The woman smiled, her eyes moving to the piece of bread in her fingers.

[Elhaym]

The artist who signed her drawings Pain sat quietly in the corner of the Rearing Stallion, several crumpled pieces of vellum scattered across her table. She shifted her weight from side to side, trying to keep her bottom from going numb, and in the end propped her feet up on the table itself.

"Those wings are ridiculous..." she thought, trying desperately to capture them accurately on the vellum. She had began drawing the man who proclaimed himself to be Phipreas initially with charcoal, but became aware that a finer touch of detail was necessary to truly capture this man. Now, with a stick of graphite in hand, she moved her hand in broad strokes, capturing his image as he floated above the bar, telling his tale. He had since sat down with a woman who, much to Pain's annoyance, was probably about ten times as beautiful as she.

"In any case... he seems to have a bit of an ego, so maybe he'll actually buy this once it's finished." Pain bit her lower lip, still struggling with the wings.

"Or maybe that white haired girl will want a memento of this occasion... probably more likely."

Pain stopped momentarily to drink from a clay mug half full with water, and to much on a piece of unidentifiable fruit that she had thoroughly mangled. Wiping the juices from her lips with her bandaged forearm, she focused again on her portrait.