Zavien
Strike hands with me. The glass is brim.
The dew is on the heather.
Understanding of the last-minute, monstrous request he's made of Iskra, Zavien doesn't hide the gratitude, a shimmer of bright light and hope cracking through the muted colors of his smile. "We'd appreciate that, although we've waited this long and we can't be demanding when we're relying on the good will of others. Name your price and we'll meet it." Not well-versed in bargaining tactics, Zavien might learn the hard way about what that means, but at this point, he's willing to sell a kidney to get this thing done, to cast aside one more burden for his city. The dew is on the heather.
On the matter of hands and extra help, he offers a nod of his head. "You let me know how many and we'll make it work. I can even send the guide with you so there's no worries about miscommunications or uncertainties." Shrugging his shoulders, he adds with a quirk of his mouth, "I'll come along if I can get away." After all, it might be good for him to get out of the city for a while. It's not always easy to get away from work. Even now, it follows him.
Zavien blinks and smiles, having asked himself the same question a million times over. "Being Commander means I get to be involved in a lot of different things. It's one of the many benefits of serving the people." His tone is all sincerity, lacking in sarcasm or annoyance despite the time and effort it takes in doing so.
Taking another sip of his beer, Zavien does his best to move past the responsibilities of leadership and the burden of grief, turning the focus on Iskra. "What brought you to Stormbreak? Were you looking for work or did I interrupt something else?" His gaze flicks to the paper sitting in front of the man, not bothering with the effort of reading it.
And love is good, and life is long,
and friends are best together.
and friends are best together.
