Tal took a healthy sip of his wine, enjoying the slow pace of the night and the chance to take their time and just talk without any quests or tasks that needed doing. Well, nothing aside from relaxing and enjoying each other's company while their companions settled down for a nap on Boreal's large, fluffy bed near the hearth. He figured Alys would need some time to consider her godly options, but when she settled on Frey he flashed her a quick, bright grin. "Frey's pretty nice," he agreed. "An' they're prob'ly the one least likely t'care about someone havin' magic. I guess..." He wrinkled his nose thoughtfully as he worked through the germ of an idea sprouting in his brain. "Y'could try askin' Frey for somethin' like armor, an' wait t'see if... when... Safrin comes back for the deck?" Probably not what Alys wanted, but sometimes waiting for the right blessing was better than rushing for the fastest one.
The courier nodded in satisfaction to hear that he'd chosen the one that Alys had drawn herself, unsurprised but even more impressed by her artistic talent. "Y'know, I bet y'could sell art on th'side, too," he suggested, a little hesitantly and unsure how she'd take it. "I mean, I'd put your work up on my wall."
He swallowed past a sudden lump of nervousness and nodded again in confirmation of the type of reading, feeling his ears warming. It took a conscious effort to keep his hands on the table so he didn't rub his neck, but he folded his fingers around his wine glass to keep them from wandering. It didn't stop them from twitching, trying to tap a syncopated rhythm against the wood, but he managed to stop them from drumming too obviously as he waited for the draw.
The courier nodded in satisfaction to hear that he'd chosen the one that Alys had drawn herself, unsurprised but even more impressed by her artistic talent. "Y'know, I bet y'could sell art on th'side, too," he suggested, a little hesitantly and unsure how she'd take it. "I mean, I'd put your work up on my wall."
He swallowed past a sudden lump of nervousness and nodded again in confirmation of the type of reading, feeling his ears warming. It took a conscious effort to keep his hands on the table so he didn't rub his neck, but he folded his fingers around his wine glass to keep them from wandering. It didn't stop them from twitching, trying to tap a syncopated rhythm against the wood, but he managed to stop them from drumming too obviously as he waited for the draw.
