Flashback A New Flame [Zed]

[Meville Brightshade]

69th of Spring, 512 AV "Vantha. Vantha. Human. Vantha. Human. Human. Inarta. Vantha. Van-" Meville's sing-song count off of the people passing in and out of the Gate came to an abrupt halt as he shook his head side to side, shuffling through all the faces he had watched pass by. There had been an Inarta, or... Or at least a very Inarta-like looking human. Pressing his face to the glass of the Warren's windows, Meville squinted his eyes against the morning light to better make out the slowly shrinking figures of the departing people on their way to who knew where. There it was! Or rather, he, like a bright flame amid a sea of pale whites and shadowy blacks. He'd found his mark. With an excited click of his tongue, Meville pushed himself off of the window, leaving behind an oily caricature of his face and hands. Racing up the stairs that lead to his room, he quickly pulled on his leather boots, lacing them fairly loosely due to the quickness with which he executed the action. Snatching his jacked and cloak from the wall, he shoved his arms in the jacket as he latched the cloak around his shoulders before bursting out of the door and into the chilly morning air. The sudden explosion of limbs attracted the attention of a couple Vantha who had been passing by, but Meville only uttered a distracted, " 'scuse me!" As he barreled down the packed down path he had seen the Inarta take on his way out of the city. Meville realized he'd forgotten his scarf back on the top of his bed, so he compensated with drawing the hood up to cover his ears and head. His long legs carried him an impressive distance with each stride as the chilled air of Avanthal stung his lungs and caused his eyes to squint now against both light and cold. Scanning the bobbing heads of those ahead, Meville was still able to make out the distinct red hair and strange garb of his very first Inarta. To be more accurate, the Inarta man was anything but his, however Meville had heard plenty of stories about Wind Reach, the strange, snowless city of the red haired Inarta. Slowing his pace slightly, Meville kept up a brisk walk, allowing his panting breath to subside. The foggy remnants of his used air hung in the air for but as moment as he quickly passed through them, dispersing them as if they were nothing more than a faint dream. He had received several amused looks from those who had observed his hasty exit from the Warrens to his now fast paced walk towards the Gate. The young man ignored the majority of them, turning to a few as he went, winking and sharing a conspiratory smile. It wasn't the first time he'd chased after some unknowing traveler, and all of them knew it certainly wasn't going to be last. To an old woman who was comfortable enough to laugh as Meville passed, he mouthed an excited, " Inarta!" Focusing his attention now on the nearing figure of the red head, Meville slowed to the natural pace set by those around him. He didn't want to seem desperate as he was, but he couldn't help but grin at the idea of getting to met a real, honest-to-goodness Inarta. There was a lot about the world Meville didn't know, even more he didn't understand. Each traveler who was willing to share helped push back the fog of his ignorance, even if slightly so. He felt all jittery at the prospect of getting to learn from a race he had only ever heard stories of. What would he ask first? Meville now found himself trailing behind the other man at a comfortable distance. To start, he supposed he should introduce himself. That always seemed to work best when meeting someone new. Meville had never really understood the ritual of exchanging names. What point was there in know the name of a stranger? Better to get to know them as a person and fit the name to them later. They passed under the shadow of the Wall, and Meville found himself looking quizzically at the back of the other man's head. Where in the world were they going? To the Frostfawns maybe? Their current direction seemed to indicate it, but Meville wasn't entirely certain. It did make sense that the Inarta would be staying with the Frostfawns if he were one of the... Oh what was the title again? The Enders? Something like that. The caste of Inarta that rode upon the wings of giant birds. Assuming the man before him was of that caste of his people, they probably were heading back to the Hold of the Frostfawns. Meville bit his lip as the hold came into view. Should he act now, or wait until they were in the warmth of the Hold? If he did act, there was no guarantee the Inarta would feel the need to stop and converse in the chilly air of the Avanthal morning. Engrossed in though, Meville was completely oblivious to the Inarta's sudden stop of movement. Having only enough to look up and realize what was happening, Meville let out a surprised yelp as he collided with the man he had been following. How embarrassing.

[Zed]

Everything was white today; go figure. There wasn't much of a dynamic here, at least not a changeable one. Homes and structures painted differing colors were quickly covered with snow, and made white. The people's clothes were white. Their cute little moral arses were all white. Even their stupid pets were. He was the only person around wearing red, and too much of it. He stuck out like a sore thumb. The Inarta hadn't really accomplished much today, but was still exhausted, nonetheless. The cold didn't really do well for a man like him. He couldn't even stretch out or keep his arms visible. Everything had to curl up against his chest or it'd come down with frostbite. Or -- at least it'd be really uncomfortable in the evening.

Days in this place couldn't last long enough. How much time had he spent wasting out in the cold? When he awoke in the morning, he wanted to try the stalls -- he looked through and through, but found nothing very interesting. The people here were very stingy. He tried to haggle like he did back at the Reach, but no one would take any of his offers. Was one gold miza really too little for a horse? He thought it'd be really cool, if he could take a horse back home. Even though they'd just be another mouth to feed. All of the merchants here kind of gave him the stank eye, and, since he only got here yesterday, that was harsh. It was quickly becoming more like home, which meant he'd be going soon enough.

After that little failure at the market, he looked around the city some more. Talked some with Garran -- not much. He also swore he saw a whole bunch of these... white bears, all running to the palace and bothering nobody. Apparently, there was a "Goddess" in the palace, but he didn't believe that. Commoners always loved to aggrandize their betters. Most Inarta thought Wind Eagles were like living spirits; power and transcendence made flesh. They were really just angry and overly large. Speaking from experience, large things were very often aggressive. And, by experience, Gods were usually just myths.

Laughably enough, that was all he had really covered today. It wasn't really that late, but, so many hours out in the cold was enough for one day. Especially if all he'd get to discover is the folklore of boring folk and that everyone here was the same. Everyone. The man wasn't surrounded by much of a crowd, but he watched the crowds that did pass. All of the people felt like the same person, remade over and over. They talked about their stupid family parties, their spouses, their pets. Not enough of them talked about 'that hot ginger they spotted around the corner'. He always thought when he finally traveled somewhere else, he'd be a little more recognized.

Well, maybe he was at least a little bit known. On his way back to the hold, he heard a special word being called. The accent was strange, but it was unmistakably "Inarta". Sadly for his admirer, he wouldn't answer to that. It sounded so disrespectful on its own. So -- with no change in pace, he continued to the hold. His boots awkwardly stepped through the aggravating snow, and his eyes cast down at the floor as if he had no confidence. He could feel Zovah trying to contact him, shouting his weird bird language into his head. Dumbed down for his lovely little Endal, he yelled, Zed! Here, here, Zovah coming, which didn't very honestly excite him. In fact, the idea intrigued him so little that he honestly began to move to the hold more quickly, if only to prevent their reunion.

Zovah was going to go on a rant when he caught him. A rant, a stabbing, a murder... Zed! he heard again, and this time he could feel it that his 'beloved' Wind Eagle was here. The dread washed over the acknowledgement that his admirer drew closer, and it even forced his halt. With his little green eye, he spotted that beloved flying death ball. In the midst of turning to face the young man, Zovah landed behind him, a shaking in the ground announcing it. "What do you want?" That was all he asked. The mental capacity for taking Zovah's whining didn't leave him literate. Zed, you're a dead man. You... it, cold, uh... Bird language wasn't his best subject, but he actually felt like he got that pretty well. At least he got the first sentence perfectly right. But -- it was more fun to be totally ignorant. What? He asked, his face unchanging from before. Anyone outside of their little duo wouldn't even know they had ever thought up a word. What yourself, stupid.

The people around always seemed to recognize him when he had his Wind Eagle present. Really had a way of making a ginger feel unimportant. Well -- except for this one guy. "Don't stand there awkwardly, either. Idle people die young."

You're going to die very young.

[Meville Brightshade]

When the eagle landed, Meville took a couple steps back, letting his mouth drop in a quick, "Wow!" before snapping his lips closed with the Inarta man spoke to him with a fairly condescending, absent-minded tone. A bit disoriented from the sudden change of everything, Meville just stared blankly into the green eyes with a sort of dumbfounded grin. Things hadn't gone entirely how he'd hoped, but at least he had the other man's attention for the time being. The other's around them were much more interested in the giant bird, and the Inarta man seemed a bit perturbed about it. When he spoke again in reprimand, Meville finally found his voice. "I plan on dying fairly early, but not from that particular disease." He offered a quick grin, the light blinking back into his eyes as he regained control of his situation. The Inarta had a wonderful voice, though his Common had no accent, which slightly surprised him. Nodding as his mind whirred, he decided it was best to answer the previous question. "Well, I've never had the chance to speak to Inarta before!" His grin grew as his curiosity got the better of his mouth. "Are all Inarta as handsome as you? You all have red hair, right? How much does your giant bird eat a day? Is it expensive? Were you heading to the Frostfawns?" He paused for a moment with a surprised look on his face before one last question popped out. "Can you speak bird?" Meville's brain was getting ahead of the situation. His deluge of questions finally stopped, Meville was able to quickly review them in his head. Half of the problem was the giant feathered beast behind the man he was trying to address. The bird was unnerving to say the least. Meville wasn't necessarily afraid of huge birds, but he wasn't entirely fond of them either. Birds as a species were pretty unpredictable. An overgrown creature such as the one before him going berserk was much more frightening than a dove. As for what he had asked, it covered the basics about what he knew of the Inarta, or wanted to know at the moment. The man before him was extremely attractive, to the point where Meville questioned his romantic tastes. If all Inarta were like that, Meville could only wonder why people left Wind Reach in the first place. As for the other questions, it was mostly just idle curiosity. Having never had the opportunity to speak to an Inarta before, he hadn't really formed all the questions for the things he wanted to know. Running through what he knew, Meville decided it was best to come up with the questions while he waited for whatever response the Inarta found appropriate. His thoughts were interrupted when the wind began to pick up and the cold nipped at his exposed skin like a million icy needles. From what he knew, Inarta weren't really built for the could. Judging by the man's hunched shoulders and hands tucked away for warmth, the Inarta wasn't particularly fond of the weather of Avanthal. "Or... Or I could wait until you're a bit warmer maybe?" The suggestion came out with a bit of a laugh in it, for Meville had just learned to cope with constantly being freezing and paying the price for it when the heat returned to him like a fiery explosion in his skin. The man didn't seem the most friendly, so doing anything to cheer him up would probably help ease them into the conversation he was hoping for. "You were headed to the Frostfawn's Hold, yes?"

[Zed]

It was kind of hard to digest anything Meville said, at first. Luckily, since his speech was practically founded upon "wows" and praises to Zed's personal character, he made the effort to listen through. What made it difficult was the bird screaming in his head. He had been trying to calm him down, but it just wasn't easy like it used to be. Zovah was a full-fledged adult now. He wasn't a child, and he didn't care about impressing Zed anymore. Zovah, they have a place for you here somewhere. I doubt you're the only Wind Eagle flying for Avanthal. Maybe you could find a friend. The eagle couldn't even understand what he said, so the nagging went on for longer. It was a tough relationship between the two, at least today. Zed had been very irresponsible as a rider, and as a friend. And he'd be sure to remember that before thinking of travel a second time.

Meville spoke of dying early -- which was probably going to happen anyway, though it alarmed the Inarta a little. Every man wanted to live for as long as possible, right? Meville must've been very unhappy. Either that, or he was vain enough to not desire to wither away. It was understandable, really. The man was attractive. His choice of personality was... interesting. Fairly unique to the Inarta -- bubbly people never lasted long in the reach. Their positivity was often broken down into small parts, along with the rest of them. Especially when they were so informal about their thinking. The Inarta couldn't really gesture with his arms, so he spoke with his eyes; staring straight at Meville and looking at him as if he were the strangest creature alive. He was certainly the strangest person he'd met while here, although that wasn't surprising, since everyone else was practically a genetic copy of each other.

Your average man would almost be offended by the way he spoke. Inarta weren't exactly an alien specimen to be stopped on the streets to sate someone's curiosity. Zed didn't like to think of himself as a regular person, though, so he rather enjoyed it. "I've never had the chance to speak to someone so strange," he replied, silently. He didn't mean much harm, really. This little blonde boy actually had a way of making him feel quite welcome. Suddenly, rather than a despised one, Zed was handsome, unique, and he had an intriguing pet. But he didn't speak bird. "You think I'm handsome? Ha. Good eye," his mood suddenly uplifted, and he quickly came to smile at the human interloper. "The answer is no, though; fortunately for the chastity of everyone, very few are quite like me." He -- he thought of bringing up his twin brother, since that probably applied to the question, but there was no point. This wasn't about Zac. "We all have red hair. My giant bird hunts his own food, so it's not expensive. I don't know how much it eats exactly. A lot. Go to a library." His tone quickly turned from very friendly to very harsh. Probably because Meville stopped inquiring about him and started over his bird.

He felt himself to be far more interesting. Actually -- maybe it was also because of the fact that there were so many questions. Some of them pointless. Some of them downright ignorant, like asking if he spoke "bird". Birds didn't have a singular language, and the Inartan language was their own. Maybe it would've been better to verbalize that rather than think it, but he couldn't be arsed. Zed, I'm going to go. More stupid trades, his Wind Eagle told him. It was kind of depressing to leave it off like that; he didn't like upsetting Zovah. But, couldn't be helped. Okay. Goodbye, my friend. His thoughts were scattered for a moment, but they quickly came back together, and now he was ready to end the awkward silence with a few words. He figured he'd have to give this conversation thing a try, or he'd never really get very far in this city. "You're not a Vantha, right? I can tell that you're not. Why live in this place? It doesn't seem forgiving to men like us." Actually, he felt rather silly for categorizing them together. The bottom-line, though, was that they were not Vantha.

They weren't really made to belong here, even if they could put aside the cold. "I'm warm enough. I don't think the Gods would allow someone quite as stunning as me to die to the cold." Yes, this one had an ego. Meville, on the other hand, seemed quite simple. He didn't have any give-away qualities that would make him seem egotistical, or harsh. In fact, the look he had was very naive. "I was going to the Frostfawn's Hold, yes. I'm staying with one of the Frostfawn men - what was his name, Goren? Galar? Ugh, can't remember..." He was just playing at that point. The way he spoke of said Frostfawn was very fond, as if they had been friends for a very long time. They weren't, though -- it was a random and brief friendship made like, yesterday.

Anyway, this conversation had to get to the point or die out quickly. Despite what he said, freezing was a potential event, at the moment. "There's something you came to me for, I presume? Something that you actually want to ask, with these random distractions being like lubricants for that. Very few people come up to strangers just to question their language or hair color. If you're one of those few, then I think we're done." His nice little way of telling Meville to be more interesting, really.

[Meville Brightshade]

Meville was extremely pleased when the Inarta decided to answer questions and in order to boot. His surprised comment on Meville's "strangeness" was anything but foreign to his ears, so Meville simply grinned a response. When the answers began, Meville nodded with a serious look to his face, as if cataloging the information in a ledger he would access later. In this case, the quill and ink were the Inarta's words and the paper Meville's brain. This particular Inarta seemed to appreciate attention. He was aware of his looks and proud of them. Not all Inarta were as attractive as he, though Meville was uncertain as to the accuracy of the statement. From what he could tell from the few words the red haired man had said of himself, he seemed a bit biased towards himself. Either way, it was doubtful an entire race of stunningly beautiful redheads existed anyway. That would have been ridiculous. As for his bird... Well, the Inarta didn't seem nearly as interested in those answers as before. Meville made a mental note to keep the conversation around the man he was speaking to, as it was the best bet to keeping him talking. Meville found the departure of the great bird as sudden as its arrival had been. Slightly distracted by the flapping wings and resulting whirling clouds of powder that were sent fluttering about in the absence of the feathered beast, Meville gave the Inarta an initially puzzled look before the question registered. "Oh! You'd be right about that. I'm completely and unequivocally human." Meville's brows knit together in a moment of thought before he was able to answer the second question. "You're right about the rather harsh conditions. I suppose I'm still here because I've never been anywhere else. Nowhere else to go!" He offered a happy smile as the wind died down a bit to give the two a reprieve for the biting cold of the moving air. Grinning at the Inarta's declaration of godly resistance to freezing to death, he nodded as the other man feigned ignorance over the man he was staying with. Meville wondered if appearance were so important to the Inarta that they would keep them up in somewhere as far removed as Avanthal. While Meville assumed the man the red head was failing to remember was the rather infamous Garran Frostfawn, he decided to just let it drop. The other man didn't seem the type to be corrected, and Meville didn't want to drive him away with being to pushy. When the Inarta asked him his actual intention, Meville let the surprise show in his bright blue eyes before nodding to explain. "That's very astute of you! In truth, I want to know of your home, your people, your culture... Specifically you, though." He grinned, pulling his hood back to improve his impaired vision. The Inarta seemed annoyed, and Meville had picked up his business-like tone. "I've never heard of an Inarta visiting Avanthal before. Are you here on a quest?" It sounded a bit odd to be asking about something like a quest, but Meville had found, if given enough of the proper prompts, the more pompous individuals had knack for spinning tall tales. "Did you have to fight monsters on your way here? How long did it take you? Is red your favorite color?" More questions that Meville found lacked direction, so he quickly covered them with new ones. "Oh, never mind that. Do you have the time to talk about yourself?" Mievelle rubbed his hands together to gather up a bit of warmth as he continued. "I work in the Warrens, so I've seen quite a few travelers come and go, but none were ever as striking as you are." There were flecks of awe and admiration in Meville's voice for he spoke the truth. The second best visitor had been a Nuit, but he hadn't stayed long. Aventhal wasn't extremely welcoming to that particular race as Meville had soon realized. "Not just in look, though." Meville gave the Inarta a very serious looking over as he said it, as if to emphasize that his interest was more than just skin deep. "You may walk a bit uncertain on Avanthal's snowy paths, but you hold yourself with a pride I haven't really seen before." He nodded when he said this, affirming that it was, indeed, something he found intriguing. "Are you a very important figure in your home city? You seem to be, at least." Meville did not know enough about the Inarta culture to truly understand the caste system. To him, the Endals were like the Frostfawns: a Hold, not an entirely different level of caste. So while he was aware the Endals were those Inarta with eagles, Meville knew little else. His last appraisal of the Inarta had given Meville a better idea of how well the other man was dealing with the cold. Not well, was the answer. He was fairly certain the Inarta would use the excuse of disinterest to retire to the warm hold of the Frostfawns, so Meville decided to take the initiative. "You know, I'm actually starting to feel more chilled than I'm comfortable with... Could we head towards the hold and chat along the way? I think the movement will help keep the cold at bay." He brought his hood up over his head again, as if to emphasize the weather starting to get to him. He'd get a better conversation out of a comfortable Inarta, rather than a testy one.

[Zed]

Meville was quite the admirer. Even his initial assumption didn't have an ounce on the actuality. He praised his looks, his status, his pride, everything. However, the man made sure to still be slightly wary. Often times, people this interested in him were after something. Something that'd result in his own loss and their gain. He would not allow incessant praising to remove his better judgment. Even though, well... it made Meville far more appealing than most of the other people he'd spoken to. And, during every brief pause in their conversation, the Inarta took it upon himself to study the young man a bit more. There were, of course, the obvious features; bright, straight hair, blue eyes... he had a nice nose, if that wasn't strange to say. Judging by physical appearance alone, this man was worthy of speaking to him. Personality... well, he was very nice. He could tell that initially.

He wasn't too sure about his intelligence, though. Judging by his speech, he seemed kind of absent minded. However, Zed had met many people like that who were actually geniuses somewhere in them. You couldn't make assumptions of some people, foreigners especially. "Huh." Zed had been relatively unaffected by the flapping of Zovah's wings; he'd taken those dramatic leaves at least a few hundred times since they met. They definitely got more dramatic as he grew larger. "Well, I suppose we're all human, at the end of the day." He wasn't honestly sure what made Inarta and regular man so different. They didn't seem very different, if you excluded hair color. Maybe their friendliness with birds? Then again, he'd never seen a regular human quite as marvelous as himself, so maybe they just had a higher potential for greatness. Ha, he would've loved for that to be true.

The young man seemed to have the same dilemma that Zed often did when the Reach was too hot, or the people were too stupid for him to tolerate: he really didn't have a better option. "You could always come to the reach. We need some new blood there. Perhaps you could be hired as a broodfather," he rolled his eyes. Though, seriously, it was true. Too much damn incest.

Zed couldn't help but find Meville's smiles and laughter a little strange, when talking about the dreadful cold and not fitting in. It was a nice enough quality to be able to find optimism in dreadful conditions, but... maybe that was why people thought him to be so strange? It was an uplifting sort of strange -- kind of -- but queer nonetheless. Anyway, his boring mental ramblings ended when Meville started questioning him again. More questions, huh? "Fancy word. And what was that earlier? Unequivocally?" The Inarta's lips perked up to smile. But, only slightly. "I'm going to be astute here and assume that you're the type who speaks fancy often, maybe trying to be recognized for your intelligence or something of the sort. Perhaps it's a part of impressing me, which I can tell you're trying awfully hard to do. I just wonder why." His eyelids slightly shut, as if he were giving the poor boy the snake eye. He never took things at face value; there was something Meville wanted.

When he was younger, he didn't really have any friends. Even though he was an Endal, handsome, wealthy... he just couldn't make any. He remembered that he also used to approach random and exotic strangers quite often, hoping to get a bite of a more interesting world. The world that wasn't his world, if that made any sense. It seemed like this was the same sort of thing. "If you want to impress me, you should tell me the reason for your intrigue. It might even make you feel better," the man took a step closer to the blonde. "Bored of life, maybe? Or maybe all of the flattery about my appearance is an implication that you want some of it for yourself. That's totally fine with me; I could use a good romp." The smile turned into a smirk, and his posture quickly changed to a casual assuage. He was in his native environment when teasing a foreigner.

"Anyway, to answer your question...s, my home is Wind Reach. More specifically, I live in the aeries of Mt. Skyinarta. It's... a cave. Very cave-y, very rocky. My people are basically just humans with red hair; my culture is a lot of sex and a lot of dumb people. It depends on the Inarta, really -- if you're a Dek, you're just dumb. Maybe you'll culturally decide to make fart jokes and beat up children. I've culturally decided that I worship the male genitalia. I'm still trying to figure out if there's a god for that sort of thing." If not, then maybe he should become that himself. He could think of a few religious followers. Er -- anyway. "I'm not on a quest," he bluntly answered. "I'm here to help transport cargo via my wind eagle." The Endal thought he was done, but -- oh no, there was a lot more.

More of the sound of his own voice? Yes please. Unlike Meville's expectations, though, he didn't exaggerate at all. "Uh, I ride a giant eagle. No reason I'd have to fight. It took me two days. Red is my favorite color," and to add some more, "I'm an archer. An Endal. I'm here because I wanted to try vacationing. It's not going as I planned. My name is Zed, I don't think I told you that. Your name..." He paused for a moment, then continued. "Well, I don't care," the Inarta glanced away. "Yes, I'm striking and wonderful and handsome and unique. I'm sure you totally don't have a crush on me. I mean -- you're definitely just the motivational type." Sarcasm, really. Meville was oozing with attraction. Supposed that answered his earlier question. And -- as if his ego couldn't inflate any further at the moment, Meville also recognized his high position and royal posture.

You could definitely use the word "astute" for this guy. He was observant. Perhaps a little obsessive in his observation. The Inarta cracked his neck, and rolled his shoulders back. He beckoned for the young man to follow, leading him to a nearby bit of shade. After a short while later of walking through an enclosed area, and a brief set of doors, they ended up in some strange lobby-like place that he desperately hoped would keep out the cold. It was nowhere special, really; just the trading post for the Endal. "I think that's the last freebie I give you." And, at that, he didn't say anything more. He didn't gesture anymore, he just stood at the door and looked.

[Meville Brightshade]

Meville once more dropped into silence as the Inarta answered his questions. He was a bit surprised at the man's willingness to just dole out all the information he was requesting, but that only made the answers that much more exciting. The red head had decided they would not, in fact, be heading back to the hold as he responded to Meville's inquiry. Instead, the Inarta chose to just stand and answer as he had been. He hadn't really expected the red head to just turn and walk that Meville's bequest, but it was a little saddening to watch the poor man huddle subtlety against the frigid air. With all the sizing up and inspection Meville had been employed in regarding the Inarta man in front of him, the fiery young man returned the favor. Meville could see thoughts flicker through the other man's green eyes as they casually moved over him. Unable to read minds, Meville could only guess at what the Inarta was thinking of him. It seemed like the man didn't seem to think Meville was entirely a nuisance, which was a start. Anything else past that was a bit difficult to read amid the sarcasm and condescending tone the other man seemed to enjoy applying to his speech. It didn't bother Meville in the usual way, though it did provide him a certain frustration when trying to decide how far was to far in his obvious praise of the Inarta. It was difficult not to praise him, after all it was like his very stance demanded laud. Broodfather? Meville found himself making a slightly disgusted frown as the man suggested Meville's potential role in the Inarta community. That certainly didn't sound very appealing, or for that matter, human. Meville certainly enjoy the touch of a woman, but he found the idea of siring a "brood" to be disturbing. Perhaps it was just the choice of word. He considered asking about broodfathers, but found the term to be fairly self-explanatory. The Inarta wasted little time in continuing his responses, Meville mentally moved right along with him. Fancy words? Meville opened his mouth to respond, but found the Inarta already explaining what he meant. "Unequivocally"? Speaking fancy? He felt puzzled over the Inarta observation over how he handled himself in the verbal communication department. Meville hadn't been speaking in any particular fashion that was foreign to his tongue. In fact, if anything, he was getting a bit sloppy with his excitement and intrigue. Even the dullest blade of a mind could tell the Inarta suspected Meville wanted something out of the red headed man by using his "fancy words" to get it. He tried to keep the confusion from his face as the Inarta continued on. The man seemed to appreciate the sound of his own voice more than the answers he'd asked for. Did he just flirt? Meville's eyes lit up with and impish sparkle at the thought of "romping" with the fine male specimen before him. He wasn't particularly inclined towards romantic encounters with those who shared his gender, but Meville's curious mind was never closed to any possibility. Despite this amusing suggestion, the latter theory had been more accurate. It wasn't so much that Avanthal was boring, rather Meville was just bored in Avanathal. He hadn't met all the Vantha who lived there, nor did he plan too. There were far too many of them to get to know on an individual basis, which was the sort of relationship he enjoyed. The thing about many of the other Vantha was they were all like him: born and raised in the snowy city of Avanthal. None of them had experienced life beyond the white walls of the city, so they all tended to have the same sort of stories. The true story tellers were not the Vantha, though their tales in Vani were certainly a treat to listen to. No, those that held the most interest for Meville were the outsiders, those who had lived first hand the dangers and wonders of Mizahar. That was the reason he sought out the strangers, the people who stuck out like sore thumbs among the common Vantha populace. Meville was too distracted in processing the information given to him, organizing it, and pulling out his own questions and answers to respond more than a wry smile at the Inarta who had taken a step closer. Before Meville could respond, the Inarta continued on. He'd certainly hit the jackpot with this one. Wind Reach, Mount Skyinarta. Sky-Inarta? The red headed mountain dwellers seemed to be about as creative with their names as those in Avanthal. Well, perhaps even less so as the people of Avanthal at least employed the use of semi-clever puns. Either way, the Inarta at least explained what Skyinarta was: a cave. How strange, to live in a cave. The man seemed well groomed and didn't smell of bats or anything like that. Of course, he had been staying with the Frostfawns, so perhaps they had suggested a slight touch-up when he arrived. His lips curved into a slight, introspective smile as he pictured the young man tossing aside his luggage and shouting an echoing, "I'm home!" to the dark cavern of a cave. It certainly was different from Avanthal. It didn't seem as though the Inarta was as fond of his culture as the Vantha. "Basically humans" with "a lot of sex and a lot of dumb people". Those were certainly not the words of one who looked fondly on his own people. Meville found there was quite a bit of sarcastic emphasis placed upon the world "culture" and its derivatives. Perhaps that had not been the best question. From what Meville could tell, the Inarta did not find his culture to be something of importance. Rather, he seemed to think it either boring or useless. Meville couldn't completely attest to surprise in that regard. The Inarta was fairly self-centered, so a collective ideology was probably something that lessened his own greatness, and for one such as he, that made it nothing more than a nuisance. Meville chuckled when the Inarta further explained his sexual preferences. If Meville spoke "fancy", the Inarta spoke whatever was the opposite... "Bluntly", maybe "simple". It wasn't so much that the Inarta sounded stupid, rather his choice of words were just so extremely casual. It was actually refreshing to listen to, even if certain phrasings sounded odd to Meville's ears. The brief pause during which the Inarta seemed to consider something lasted just long enough for the man to take a breath before continuing. He wasn't here on a quest. He was here to transport cargo, whatever that meant. Meville nodded as the man continued. He didn't seem the type to embellish, telling things as they were with his straightforward manner of speech. He even threw in some extra tid-bits, of which Meville was grateful, for it implied the Inarta was, perhaps, enjoying himself a bit more than he was letting on. Finally Meville had a name to place onto the man's face: Zed. Or was it Dhjed? Well, it was the same in Common, so Meville didn't worry about it too much. The simple name certainly fit the simple, succinct manner of speech and priority the Inarta seemed to have. Meville was going to give his own name, but stopped short when he was cut off by the Zed's sudden lack of interest. Sarcasm once more. Rightly so, as well. Meville certainly couldn't deny the attraction he felt towards Zed, but it was only skin deep. The man was a veritable sunburst of ego. He couldn't imagine copulating with him. It would probably involve more compliments than Meville knew how to verbalize. Now at the end of Zed's responses, Meville was given a chance to filter through everything he'd been given. He happily tottered after the red haired man, as his eyes focused slightly beyond the physical realm in thought. When they reached the doors of the trading post, Meville leaned his back against the frame as Zed decided he wouldn't give anything more without proper reason. "You're entirely right in wanting nothing to do with someone who hide ulterior motives." Meville's head bobbed briefly in an understanding nod. "But you've hit the proverbial nail on the head with your first impression! I'm bored, and you're fascinating." His lips parted into another grin as he chuckled slightly. "And I'm glad we can agree you're quite the enticing man, though I can't say that's another motive of mine." Standing there, outside the promised warmth of the post, Meville figured he had a limited amount of time to make his point. He'd given it, and he hoped it would be enough to grant him a prolonged audience with the Inarta. He had had not specific plan in mind when he had chased after the one he now knew to be Zed, nor had he been able to form a true course of action once they had begun to speak to each other. For once, Meville was rather lost as to what to do. He didn't want to lose Zed, but if he appeared any more desperate than he had before, it wouldn't turn out well for him. Instead, he gave the man contemplative frown before he finished with a proposition. "If you still question my motives, I have nothing to hide. I'm here speaking to you now entirely out of curiosity. If you'll have me, I'd be honored."

[Zed]

"I' get you," he started. The man, mentally, had understood Meville well enough. He was never quite as bold as him for the sake of cultural knowledge, but that feeling of maybe being unhappy with your place of residence was easy to get. This simple acknowledgement, combined with a mixture of things, from his own boundless ego to the potential of physical altercation beneath the bed sheets, kept him talking. "I can get the feeling. I've been there before. Wanna know why I came to Avanthal? Because I wanted a taste, too; taste of the outside world, you know. Sadly, it would appear the outside world isn't much more intriguing." He pulled his arms out of the red cloak, deciding that he was warm enough to take a more liberal approach with his gestures. The man's... arms, were really what you'd expect. Strong and muscular, tan and clear-skinned. There was a golden brace up near his shoulder, although it seemed loose enough to where it wasn't constricting.

On the even brighter side, the man was finally comfortable enough to act more like his real self. Which was, surprisingly, not so bad. He lifted his right arm up, and gently dropped it atop the blonde's head, patting it familiarly. It was the first of many gestures that said that he wasn't really a terrible person. "I trust you. What can you get from me, anyway, right?" Well, realistically, a few things. Money, maybe some relief if Meville turned out to be a homicidal nutjob... Er, anyway. Crossing his arms over his chest, he listened to the rest of Meville's case before he said anything. The man was genuine, even if desperately so. Kind of seemed like a drama queen, although Zed had basically asked for it with his suspicions. Hn.

The man was definitely brave. Probably very moral. The people here all had that sort of quality, really. "It's good to know that even in a freezing hole, I can find someone with similar interests. I'm glad you find me enticing and whatnot. You don't have to compliment me anymore, though. I don't want to leave you feeling pathetic for giving and giving and not receiving." Which basically meant... what? That Meville should expect compliments in return, probably. The Inarta parted his lips to speak, but stopped for a moment. He wasn't exactly sure how to go about this. If Meville thought he was so wonderful, then maybe it'd uplift him to be complimented in turn by this wonderful man. "I find you to be interesting too. You're not very proper, but you have a sort of... I dunno, worldly quality about you. You're also good looking, which may be the primary reason I'm still talking to you. But -- you shouldn't be too offended by that. I doubt if I was ugly you would've even approached me." Perhaps Meville would've taken all of this as flirting, since he had blatantly admitted to his sexual preferences, but it was far from it.

When that time did come, and it would, he'd be far more aggressive about it than just telling a guy he's got a nice face. "Well, since you've managed to keep my interest this far, I suppose you can consider your mission to be a success. Give me your name or something, and maybe I'll be all romantic-like and send you flowers one day." That was more of a... joke, than anything. Zed didn't even know if they sold flowers in the reach . . . going down from Mt. Skyinarta just to pick flowers didn't seem worth it. Flowers were for wussies. Then again, Meville did kind of seem like a wuss. Speaking of . . . "You seem very smiley and optimistic, you know," he quickly changed the subject. As a sort of a cute effort to mimic him, Zed lifted his lips into a really big, almost ridiculous smile. "I suppose you have reason to be," he broke the flash of his happy expression. "You've been allowed to speak with wonderful me." Abruptly, he moved a few feet over to sit down; just a little wooden chair that he figured would be a nice place. There was one next to him, and a quick pat on the wooden frame was enough to imply that he wanted Meville to sit.

"Now it's time for you to answer questions," he leaned back into the chair, tilting it enough to where it could fall. He normally would've had problems just with asking Meville much of anything, but he had thrown away his inability to find interest in others the moment he stepped in this place. It'd be simply stupid of him to come here to connect with people and then act incapable of connecting. The human was, well -- lucky in this regard, because Zed actually showing interest was probably a great pleasure for someone like him. He seemed like he didn't have many friends. "How old are you? What kind of stuff do you do here? What job?" Other questions? He didn't know if he had any. Well, he had some, but they were pretty juvenile. Like . . . "You still got your... er, innocence? Seems like it to me. The way you carry yourself, is just, it's like you've never been brought down to earth."

OOCsorry this post was mediocre :c

[Meville Brightshade]

Interesting! Meville had assumed he and Zed were different not just by race and home but mindset as well. It was fairly illogical to assume that Zed didn't have layers to his personality like any other living, breathing race, but Meville had type-classed him as a self-absorbed, egotistical sort of fellow. Hearing a tinge of actual understanding and relation in the Inarta's voice was surprising to say the least. Meville, hid it well though, nodding along as he had been with everything else Zed had said to show he was engaged. They both had the same sort of interest in the world, though Meville had the impression that while he viewed the world in bright hues and swaths of color, Zed found it be a rather plain backdrop with little interest in the foreground. Zed's friendly gesture was also completely out of the blue, given his previous inclinations. At least, Meville figured it was friendly, as anything else wouldn't have made sense. The actual gesture of placing his hand on Meville's head was a bit odd, considering their similarity in height, but Meville just grinned in return Shaking his hair slightly when the hand was removed. It seemed the man was much more comfortable indoors where there was a heat source rather than the blistering cold. He was glad Zed had decided to keep talking, for it made Meville's curiosity peak ever higher with each new surprise however small. It helped that the Inarta had flat out said he trusted him, though for a moment it seemed his eyes didn't quite match his words. It passed quickly, so Meville decided not to dwell on it. It had probably involved some sort of morbid thought regarding Meville's rather odd and completely unwonted attention. It was best not to give the Inarta any reason to dwell on such thoughts as well. Giving and not receiving? Though the Inarta was probably not aware of it, Meville had both taken and received quite a lot from the young red haired man. He thrived off of personal stories, foreign cultures, anything that was different. It didn't matter that his compliments were returned with bravado or grins or even compliments in turn. Meville acted in the way he thought best to get the most out Zed. He'd been fairly successful in that respect, as he'd managed to get the man to share quite a bit with a complete stranger. In fact, the Inarta was enjoying it from what Meville could tell. Meville couldn't help but laugh at Zed's "compliments". His bright eyes danced with the sparks of the braziers that lit the interior of the post, as he shook his head while Zed continued, quickly changing the subject from flowers to Meville's own outlandish personality. That was probably for the best. Though Meville appreciated the sentiment, Zed certainly wasn't one for flattery, at least not in such a forced manner. The joke, however, had been just fine. Sending flowers from Wind Reach to Avanthal was completely and utterly ridiculous, but Meville couldn't help but wonder what sort of flora found its home in the mountains of the Inarta's home. When Zed smiled in imitation of Meville's own face, Meville let out another trill of laughter. There was certainly a reason the other man kept his face a bit more stoic than most. The huge grin looked completely alien on the green eyed, fiery haired Inarta. It wasn't unattractive, just... Out of character. The very idea of Zed walking around Avanthal in his full-red garb and bright, cheery smile sent Meville into a fit of giggles as his bright blue eyes dropped to the floor to avoid the spectacle before him. Thankfully, Zed only kept his face so ridiculously contorted for a few moments before he admitted that he understood the great honor of speaking to him. Meville couldn't entirely decide if that had been a joke or not, but he happily trailed behind Zed and sat where he indicated. Nodding his understanding that it was no longer appropriate for him to be spouting off questions but instead give the answers to Zed's, Meville tilted his head slightly to the side as he listened. Fairly basic requests, to be sure, but all answerable. Though, the last question quickly brought to mind Zed's description of his people as humans who had "a lot of sex". Making sure Zed wasn't going to ask anything more for his initial request by allowing a few beats to pass between them, Meville started his reply. "Well, my name is Meville for starters." He continued right along in his jolly rise and fall of tone, "And I've twenty years, as of this last winter." Meville bit his lower lip in thought, picking at the corner of the chair's arm absent mindedly. "I do lots of stuff. Mostly, I cause trouble, to be perfectly honest." He wasn't really certain what Zed had wanted him to say, nor was he entirely sure what the answer even was. There were plenty of things that Meville busied himself with, a large portion of it being his magic. Though he had said he had nothing to hide, Meville had been referring more to his intentions rather than his day to day life. Either way, if Zed wanted an elaboration, he was sure the other man would ask. Even expressing interest in someone other than himself seemed a bit of a challenge for the Inarta, so Meville had he feeling he wouldn't ask if he didn't think it entirely important. Thus, Meville treated it just like when he had given his name and age: a simple fact that carried little weight. "I work in the Warrens." Though he had already explained this, Meville was certain the it had either slipped the Inarta's mind or it just simply hadn't registered. It was no matter, as Meville's interest wasn't in whether Zed was aware of his current occupation. Repeating the information like what the weather was like or how many eggs one had asked for. The final question brought an impish glean to Meville's eyes, turning his lips up into a slight grin. "Oh, I assure you I've experienced the earthly pleasures of the flesh. Though, not with someone such as you." Meville shrugged a bit, leaning back into his chair. "At least, not to the extent to which I believe you're referring." Feeling as though he should respond a little more to what Zed had previously said, Meville continued, letting the previous subject hang for now. "But I understand why you might think so. I do tend to come off a bit..." The young blonde's grin turned a bit sheepish, "Childish." Plenty had said it before Zed, and Meville was sure there were many more who would. It didn't bother him in the slightest that Zed seemed to think Meville odd or strange or whatever other synonyms he felt might fit. "I can't for the life of my figure out [i]why[/]i I'm so inclined to be as I am." His shoulders once more bobbed in a little shrug, "But it tends to keep people on their toes. I like that." _________________________________ No problem! I thought it was fine.

[Zed]

The blonde one didn't seem to care that much about his compliments. That was strange; he thought so surely that it'd make him feel happy. Well, maybe he was. He laughed! Then again, that could be an insult. Zed wasn't so sure about the context anymore. Everyone here was a little queer. And they laughed so much. He didn't laugh at his joke, though, when the time came... he didn't even smile. Well, it wasn't that funny, but that's because Zed wasn't really a comedian. Or maybe he was just not that personable. Either way, he eyed the boy carefully as he acted out his responses. He laughed again, which prompted a quick cocking of the eyebrow and a tilt of the head. If he got what was so funny, he would've laughed with him... but he didn't. He didn't think his big smile looked funny. Pants always seemed to be dropping once he started smiling...

Meville's expression was much more natural though. He could see the... brightness just oozing out. He was like the resident fat man upon arrival at a Syliran meat festival. If that even existed. Either way, it seemed like the human was either genuinely interested in him, or he was just treating this encounter like some joke. "That wasn't funny," he scolded the blonde. Just saying it was the best way to deal with it. "My real smile is quite charming, you know. You're just too lame to invoke it." Ironically, after he finished saying that, he really did smile. It was nothing spectacular, but it was kind of cute in some weird way. He had dimples. Not very manly. The blonde one's smile, on the otherhand, was very cute. His looks fit his personality; he was happy, and he looked good happy. It -- the glimmering eyes and the uplifting of his pale cheeks -- may or may not have been what brought the smile to Zed's face.

He realized, quickly, that he had become so absorbed in speaking to and staring at Meville that he lost balance with his chair, after nervously rocking back and forth in what was certainly not a rocking chair. He managed to stand up tall before it fell over, preventing the whole pathetic scenario of being 'helped up' by someone and laughed at by everyone's eyes. That was a good enough save. In order to make it look like it was his intention for the chair to fall in the first place, he just leaned against the wall beside his new admirer. His name was Meville, eh? Sort of a strange name. Fancy, kind of. The other humans were all so into semantics. "Meville. Sounds like evil to me," he teased. Although, his eyes didn't look like they were teasing. They liked to be more contradictory. As a man once so famously said, it tends to keep people on their toes.

He wasn't much younger than him, which was surprising. He expected him to be eighteen at the most. Supposed it just meant that not everyone matured quite as quickly as he did, although he was jealous in a way. Meville was probably the type that'd look thirty when he was forty, and thirty-five when he was fifty. Well, if he didn't go along with his plan to "die young". And, since he was an apparent trouble-maker, that wouldn't be too unlikely of an outcome. "I'm hoping it's trouble that benefits the city. There's no point in flaunting immaturity, Meville," he emphasized the name. Zed had a habit of doing that, although he didn't really know why.

Not surprisingly, he didn't ask for anything. Meville's life was of no consequence to him, especially since he was leaving Avanthal in four days. Or would you consider it three? Regardless, he'd be left to his own devices when that day came. The Endal was far more interested in the now. He pretty much zoomed his head over the "warren" thing, for a second time counting. He wouldn't even ask a third time; he realized that he didn't care. What he found so interesting, even funny, was the way Meville spoke about sex. "Earthly pleasures of the flesh...?" He stared for a moment, then it quickly devolved; he laughed more than he had in some time. The foreigner definitely spoke fancy, then again that may have just been an Avanthal thing. In the Reach, though, no one bothered with semantics like that. "Well, the rest is obvious. There's no one really like me. Just me." He didn't know what he meant in regards to the extent, but he assumed he either meant all the way or all the way with... a man.

Well, that was intriguing either way. "I hear my earthliness is quite pleasing." That was all he had to offer in that regard, although it was offered with a very intent look; an intent smile. "I don't think that you're childish. I think that you're just a different type of an adult." Just the type that'd get killed! "I think people remain on their toes no matter what, unless they don't have toes. So, that saying is terrible." Again, with the ginger logic.