”Nah, not stupid,” the courier quickly assured his friend, now feeling even more self-conscious and bad for making Zavien feel bad. ”Nothin’ wrong with askin’. I just… kinda… I learned a lot while I was tryin’ t’make it work. An’ mostly what I learned was that I was kind’ve… maybe an ass t’even ask for it?” There was a questioning tone to his voice as he tried to reconcile how he was feeling and put it into words for the first time, and not sure he was finding the right ones. His scowl was aimed at the ground below them, however, and not at his friend. ”An’ Frey coulda just told me that instead o’ sendin’ me off t’embarrass myself an’ waste everyone’s time. So… yeah. Not your fault. I’m just not ready t’talk about it yet.” In the meantime he’d decided to devote himself to Mort, leaning into the kindness and patience that the God of Death had found for him, however rare his chance to see that busy god might be.
And getting to hear about what Zavien wanted was way more interesting than Tal’s stupid life choices, anyways. The courier kept his eyes aimed below, scanning for any clue that someone might have been through there recently, some dropped item or torn cloth fluttering from a branch, but he listened to Zavien with genuine interest. He snorted with fond approval at the mention of a dragon, and Boreal - smart, though not able to understand the entire conversation, rumbled approvingly and shoved her head under the Breaker’s hand at the word. ”A blessin’ right up until you’re shovelin’ dragon shit for th’third time that week,” he teased his companion and friend alike. Boreal understood the gist of his words from the images in his thoughts and gave an indignant, smoky huff.
The bit about wanting to be strong, though, resonated oddly within the courier’s chest and his humor fell away as he slowly nodded, grin fading. ”Nah, I get that. Believe me. We can’t turn into big, scary animals or throw fireballs around. An’ punchin’ things with our bare hands doesn’t do shit. Gettin’ you a weapon’ll help a lot, though. What kinda things are y’good with? Somethin’ like a sword? Or a bow?” Zavien was nowhere near the scrawny weakling that Tal had started out as. The man was already strong and had some soldier training, so Tal figured he was ahead of the curve. ”An’ what would y’want it t’do? Like… addin’ elemental damage to a hit, or some other kind o’ ability? Like my Special Delivery Dagger that lets me hit things from far away?”
And getting to hear about what Zavien wanted was way more interesting than Tal’s stupid life choices, anyways. The courier kept his eyes aimed below, scanning for any clue that someone might have been through there recently, some dropped item or torn cloth fluttering from a branch, but he listened to Zavien with genuine interest. He snorted with fond approval at the mention of a dragon, and Boreal - smart, though not able to understand the entire conversation, rumbled approvingly and shoved her head under the Breaker’s hand at the word. ”A blessin’ right up until you’re shovelin’ dragon shit for th’third time that week,” he teased his companion and friend alike. Boreal understood the gist of his words from the images in his thoughts and gave an indignant, smoky huff.
The bit about wanting to be strong, though, resonated oddly within the courier’s chest and his humor fell away as he slowly nodded, grin fading. ”Nah, I get that. Believe me. We can’t turn into big, scary animals or throw fireballs around. An’ punchin’ things with our bare hands doesn’t do shit. Gettin’ you a weapon’ll help a lot, though. What kinda things are y’good with? Somethin’ like a sword? Or a bow?” Zavien was nowhere near the scrawny weakling that Tal had started out as. The man was already strong and had some soldier training, so Tal figured he was ahead of the curve. ”An’ what would y’want it t’do? Like… addin’ elemental damage to a hit, or some other kind o’ ability? Like my Special Delivery Dagger that lets me hit things from far away?”
