Open Night Out

[Naiya]

He'd never had mead before? It was maybe a frivolous thing, drinking. Shahar didn't really seem the type to indulge in such things, after all, he wasn't even wearing the clothing he'd bought yet. Still useful, and what use was drinking but to push away such serious thoughts?

She spun the glass on the bar before her, hoping it would suddenly start talking for her. When it didn't she lifted it to her lips again, hoping the burn of the drink would inspire her.

In the back of her mind, a voice reminded her of what a bad idea this was. Getting drunk. Going out without her family's consent. A glance at her companion reminding her of her experiences with drunk Drykas men - none of which were good. Although, Shahar had seen one such incident, she reminded herself, and he'd helped her. So there was little chance he'd repeat such a foolish thing as what had happened in the past. She lifted her drink to her lips once more, chasing away such dark thoughts with the overly sweet liquid.

"Ale is better." Rue offered finally, happy to share what little knowledge she had about their drinks, "Not so sweet as this, although taste is different in different taverns, but usually ale is.." She searched for the right word, lighter, flavored, biting she roughly shaped a few more descriptive words, but more as idle searching than with actual intent.

Shahar sort of leaned over the bar, opening his shoulders towards the room at large, her eyes lingered on the new shape he formed. Picking apart what this shape meant, how it changed.

He looked more comfortable, maybe. That made Rue smile, glad that her plan hadn't failed completely. Shahar looked at least like he wasn't quite ready to leave, and Rue felt rather like she had accomplished something by being the cause of that. He seemed so wary, wary of her, like she might attack at any moment. It didn't make sense to her, but since she felt similarly towards him, she couldn't blame him for it. So seeing that ease, even slightly, that was what brought the smile to her lips.

[Colt]

The more Shahar drew from his tankard, the more relaxed he found himself becoming. It wasn’t drunkenness, not yet––he wasn’t all that far into his mead, and so he was overtaken by a simple, relaxed contentedness, without any desire to be anywhere but where he currently was.

Rue spoke up, comparing their drinks to something called ale––another thing Shahar had heard of in passing, but never tried. Perhaps when he was done with this ‘mead’ he could ask if there was any ale to be had here.

Rue continued to look at him once she’d said her piece, not exactly a stare as much as it was a simple roaming of the eyes, somewhat discerning but at ease. Shahar didn’t mind it. She was smiling, too, and although Shahar could find no cause he didn’t find the mystery to be particularly pressing; Rue had a nice smile regardless of what had brought it to bear.

Without a great deal to say, Shahar’s mind began to wander to their surroundings. The man that had brought their drinks stood at the far end of the bar, polishing glasses amidst the warm, flickering light of the candles and lanterns. The hunter took another sip, finding that the firelight was much nicer than he’d noticed when he came in. The shadows jumped and moved like a hundred dancers, and there was a glass lantern that broke the flame inside into countless smaller shards of light. Taking another pull from the tankard, Shahar blinked and settled to watched the mesmerizing item, overcome with a lack of need to do anything else.

oocSorry for the shortness of my post; Shahar tends to slow down with alcohol, so I couldn’t come up with something for him to do here.

[Naiya]

The lighthearted feeling that had accosted her on the way here only grew stronger as her drink grew lighter. She enjoyed the mead, she decided, it was not so sweet as to overwhelm her tastes, and it didn't burn like the decanter of spirits that father enjoyed on special occasions.

That was a path of thought that she should avoid, she decided, lifting her drink once more. Was it almost empty? She frowned down at it, no it was just less full than before.

Not a problem though, she didn't like it much anyway. Or, had she decided she did? She put the mead down without drinking from it, she was obviously getting ahead of herself.

Instead she turned her gaze back to the tavern, it had attracted a few others, a few men, some together, others alone, and a woman, alone but confident. There was a soft echo of talk, not a constant buzz of sound, but rather intermittent burbles of conversation tumbling from one person to another.

She couldn't make out any distinct words, her hearing not something she relied heavily upon, instead she turned her gaze once more, settling upon the woman who waited across the bar for larger quantities of beverage, presumably to take home with her.

The woman wore nice enough clothing, fitted, cared for, but nothing fancy. Work clothes. Green jewels at her throat and woven into the intricate braids of her hair said that she was of the emerald clan.

Rue fingered the ornament hanging from a wrap in her own hair, the black twine made into an almost lace, supporting feathers that tickled at her shoulder. Idle wanting flitting through her body. It was a far cry from the knot of braids piled on the other woman's head, an adornment that took time and helping hands. Such complex braiding was often done by a sibling, or by one of the other wives of the pavilion, or both. Her own hair hung down around her a curtain of red rather than the knot work that women of rank or good standing.

The woman turned, exiting the tavern with two gallons of liquid in hand, and Rue resettled her gaze on the man she was with. Contentment colored her posture, as she followed his gaze to what had captured his attention.

A small sip of her drink covered the laugh that threatened to escape her as she took in the focus of his gaze. The light of the lanterns, moving gracefully across the glass panes that shattered the fire into the warm light that danced across the shadows, and pushed back the weight of the night.

She was amused as she called his attention, settling her rapidly emptying drink a tad more firmly against the wood bar. "It is a nice enough place, don't you think?" Her voice was gentle, careful not the disturb the ambiance that had settled around them as the night came to life. She propped her self up on the bar, her elbow finding a dry spot to make it's home so that she had a place to rest her head.

oocMaybe a little more for Shahar in this post, but it's not anything to worry about

[Colt]

The fire continued to dance and twirl within its glass cage, almost to the point that Shahar somehow feared that the fire would get tired and take a rest, cutting off the flickering that had so ensnared him. It was easy to lose himself to observation, to let the rest of the world slip away in favor of the dancing flame.

Shahar took another mouthful of mead.

Rue called for his attention, and with some effort Shahar managed to tear his gaze away from the lantern.

She was amused in her words, body relaxed and calm, even lighthearted. But what caught Shahar’s attention most was her hair; the copper strands had taken on a life of their own beneath the firelight, shimmering and shifting with the beauty of a mirage on the horizon. It was amazing to Shahar that the hair remained there, even as it projected a feeling of illusion. It was just as mesmerizing as the lantern.

Shahar took another pull from his drink.

He was vaguely aware that Rue had said something to him, and he acknowledged it with a vague what, missed that, although it was superseded by a wide, amazed wonder directed very clearly at Rue’s hair.

[Naiya]

He turned toward her with an almost reluctance, signing vaguely at her, but with his attention hardly on what his hands shaped. Instead amazement and wonder eclipsed anything else he might have meant to say.

What, what is it? was more exclamation than question as she signed it, sitting up quickly from her relaxed pose. Her hands quickly pulled a section of hair up from where it hung around her so that she could examine it.

The length of hair seemed fine, mostly normal, thought the warm light that hung above them did highlight her hair in a red hue that appealed to her. A dress in that tone would be lovely, or maybe a scarf to tie her hair back with...

She shook her head, clearing such thoughts from her mind, as she ran her hands over and through the hair they held, a nervous motion. She waited for Shahar to say or do something other than look at her like that. It was disconcerning. She dropped one hand to her drink, lifting it to her lips as she did anything to not notice the look he gave her.

[Colt]

Rue responded with the signed equivalent of an exclamation, which Shahar found amusing for some reason. She went to her hair, first holding a lock up for examination before going at it with both hands and running through the copper tresses in a way that made the light dance through them delightfully. Shahar settled onto his elbows to watch in amazement. What would that hair look like if there was a single source of light, unlike where they were now? A campfire, perhaps, which would dance and flicker even more than a candle, with both light and shadows jumping about. That would be beautiful.

Shahar sighed as he imagined what her hair would do under such a light, although he was dragged back to attention by Rue’s sense of disconcerted. It didn’t immediately occur to Shahar that he was the source of such a feeling, and he turned around to try and locate what might have caused such a feeling in the woman.

Disconcerting, what where? What source?

He turned back to Rue, and as much as he tried to look at her face, the dancing lights on her head kept distracting him. The wonder was back, although not as overarching as the first time.

Pretty hair, he signed idly. Then he noticed her adornments. Feathers! he exclaimed excitedly, as if it was a brilliant surprise to him that Rue should have them.

[Naiya]

He was amused, she was flustered, mystified, shying from the attention. The amazement returned to his pose as he settled in, head propped on his hands as he stared at her like she was something to be impressed by. Heat burned at her cheeks, adding to the liquid warmth of drink that floated through her. She hid her face behind her drink once more only to find it was gone, empty. She frowned down at the now offensive object, as good a distraction as any.

The escape was a brief one, as a gentle sigh breathed through Shahar's lips, echoing in the bubble of hyper awareness that surrounded Rue. She glanced to him to find a question formed in space between them.

What was the source of her discomfort? It would be rude, and more embarrassing to tell him, that the admiration, the reverence in his gaze was the source. An idle compliment about her hair followed, and she sketched grattitude in response, a fleeting escape once more opened as he called attention to the feathers in her hair, as though just noticing them.

Found after a hunt She informed him, clinging to the sense of normalcy that came with speaking of such things, token, prize. "A friend helped me make it." She turned so that he could better see the ornament, and so that she could not see the look that so unsettled her in his eyes. The tilt of her head offering the charm for closer inspection, pleased that he had noticed the result of her hunt and her trade coming together.

[Colt]

She didn’t answer his question, but that was alright; the feathers now commanded his attention, and the story behind them. She turned her head to expose the feathers, offering them for his examination, and he leaned close, reached out a hand and took ahold of one of the longer ones. It was soft and colorful, but it was attached to Rue’s hair so he was careful to be gentle as he drew it between his fingers. Then he took another feather, remaining careful as he drew his fingers down that one, too. Then a third feather, then another until he had touched and examined every one that made up the ornament.

He dropped his hand when he finished, although he made no motion to move back to where he had originally sat. Instead he chose to take another draw from his tankard, and realized to his dismay that there was only a little bit left. He peered sadly into the dark depths of his mead; it was only now that it was almost gone that he realized he liked the stuff. He would simply have to make this bit last as long as he was able.

“Rue Nightsong,” he said, attention wandering back to his companion. Surprise, didn’t know, you hunt? Pretty feathers.

[Naiya]

He leaned in towards her, an unexpected change that Rue wasn't sure she preferred to the staring. She couldn't move away now, not after she had offered to let him see the decoration up close, so she was still while he looked at the feathers.

Or she would have been if he hadn't reached out and lifted the things, she jumped slightly, surprised at the contact, delicate as it was. More a feeling of the displacement of her hair, lifting in small segments that tickled at her scalp and sent a shiver through her body.

It was a strange feeling, nothing like her own touch in her hair, or the fingers of wind that often lifted the copper mass from her shoulders. No, it was entirely foreign, and altogether more pleasant than she would have expected of such a simple thing. She allowed her body to relax in the warmth that radiated from him, a result of the alcohol maybe, or just Rue growing more comfortable with the idea of their closeness.

Contentment crept unbidden into her posture, fading slightly when his hand dropped back to his side. She would not have minded had he decided to find the other ornaments in her hair as well.

The pleasant warmth of him did not move away with the movement of his hand, though, and she felt no urgent desire to run from the comfort of the moment. So instead she resumed her perched position on her stool, resting on elbow once more as she turned her gaze back to Shahar, happy to find that the uncomfortable look had faded from his eyes.

Or had been buried by the distraction of his own empty, or nearly so, drink. Maybe it was time for another one. She waved gently at the bartender, a beckoning only a woman could get away with.

"Another drink, an ale, please." She informed the man of her decision to switch drinks.

'Rue Nightsong,' He pulled her attention back to him with the sound of her name, nice to be heard without the echo of a chiding or a reprimand. He was surprised by her admission of hunting, reasonably so, because women tended not to do such things. Another compliment, tacked on to the end of his thought, and she smiled in thanks.

"I have been hunting once or twice, I am not very good." She closed her eyes for a moment while she thought. Lack experience, and knowledge, "I am quick with my bow, it is the only skill I can boast. Though I am out of practice of late."

[Colt]

When Shahar looked back at Rue, he discovered that contentment had settled over her body, somewhat like the similar sign that had settled over his own. It made the issue of their drinks less pressing, although in another moment he had caught sight of the light in her hair and became distracted again.

Rue waved down the bartender, causing her to tumble over one shoulder. Her hair was thicker in some places and spread out in others, and in some places her hair made so thin a veil that he could actually see firelight through it. Half-consciously, and without any real sense that the action could be seen as socially inappropriate, Shahar reached out again, but this time it wasn’t for feathers. He took a lock of the hair itself, lifting it free from the rest and high enough to examine by itself. It was red and copper and orange and golden all at the same time, and it was softer than he’d expected, but he didn’t get to feel it as much as he would have liked before the bartender was returning. Shahar dropped Rue’s hair with disappointment and turned to face the approaching man.

He cheered considerably, however, when another tankard was set before him. Shahar took a moment to drain what was left of his first before responding to Rue.

Offer, ability to assist, he signed. Hunt, javelin, track, can teach.