Tal had been taught to be extremely fussy about loading his dogsleds back before he had a skyship. A place for everything, and everything in its place had been more than just a motto for the courier; it was how he loaded and balanced his sled as efficiently as possible for the team to drag, and could mean the difference between life and death out on the Tundra. That fussiness had carried over into other parts of his life as well, and he was usually meticulous about placing things - whether at a table, an altar, or or a shop.
He was too busy sorting out the place settings to realize just how pleased he had made his friend, but he heard something of the emotion in her voice and he lingered a little longer over the table, hiding a smile of his own as he gave her a chance to recover herself before he headed back to test the salad.
Sadly, it passed, and his hopes of brownies for lunch went by the wayside. "Yeah, yeah, I guess I could do that," he grumbled teasingly to her suggestion. "We're supposed t'bring leftovers t'that bloody moon thing anyways, right?" He handed the salad bowl back to its crafter and went to check on the soup, sniffing the rich aroma of cream and potatoes and herbs appreciatively. "The soup's about ready, too!" He shifted the pot to the side of the flame and went to collect their bowls, ladling the thick soup into them before returning to the table and pulling up his chair. "T'gettin' better every day!" he toasted her with his soup bowl, grinning.
He was too busy sorting out the place settings to realize just how pleased he had made his friend, but he heard something of the emotion in her voice and he lingered a little longer over the table, hiding a smile of his own as he gave her a chance to recover herself before he headed back to test the salad.
Sadly, it passed, and his hopes of brownies for lunch went by the wayside. "Yeah, yeah, I guess I could do that," he grumbled teasingly to her suggestion. "We're supposed t'bring leftovers t'that bloody moon thing anyways, right?" He handed the salad bowl back to its crafter and went to check on the soup, sniffing the rich aroma of cream and potatoes and herbs appreciatively. "The soup's about ready, too!" He shifted the pot to the side of the flame and went to collect their bowls, ladling the thick soup into them before returning to the table and pulling up his chair. "T'gettin' better every day!" he toasted her with his soup bowl, grinning.
