Most Halovians knew better than to venture out onto the Sea or Tundra mid-Deepfrost without magic to protect them. Luckily for Harper, Tal had both protective magic and a reliable means of transport that could handle the frigid temperatures and brutal winds of the north when conditions were less unseasonably pleasant than they were now.
Unluckily for Tal, Harper had quick reflexes and no qualms about setting aside his art supplies in order to capture the courier's hand. He endured the shake with a sense of helpless resignation given that he had reflexively tried to initiate it, carried along like a raft in a riptide by Harper's cheerful rambling, unsure how to get a word in edgewise.
It was hard to stay mad at the man, though, not when he reminded Tal so much of one of the particularly big, friendly dogs that hadn't made the training for the sled team, but lived and worked in the family store as a combination of guest greeter and guardian.
It took him a moment after Harper wound down to parse his last few sentences and when he did the courier didn't bother to hide his groan. "Y'can't be serious." He tried not to plead with the other man, but something of his despair likely made it into his voice. "What if y'were attacked by an ursur out here? They get pretty desperate for fresh meat in Deepfrost!" It was hard to tell whether he was more shocked or dismayed, and Harper was wrong about one thing.
Tal could absolutely strangle him for that particular decision and only the feeling that it would be like kicking a particularly friendly golden retriever kept him from reaching out and shaking the Torcher until his perfect, shiny teeth rattled.
Unluckily for Tal, Harper had quick reflexes and no qualms about setting aside his art supplies in order to capture the courier's hand. He endured the shake with a sense of helpless resignation given that he had reflexively tried to initiate it, carried along like a raft in a riptide by Harper's cheerful rambling, unsure how to get a word in edgewise.
It was hard to stay mad at the man, though, not when he reminded Tal so much of one of the particularly big, friendly dogs that hadn't made the training for the sled team, but lived and worked in the family store as a combination of guest greeter and guardian.
It took him a moment after Harper wound down to parse his last few sentences and when he did the courier didn't bother to hide his groan. "Y'can't be serious." He tried not to plead with the other man, but something of his despair likely made it into his voice. "What if y'were attacked by an ursur out here? They get pretty desperate for fresh meat in Deepfrost!" It was hard to tell whether he was more shocked or dismayed, and Harper was wrong about one thing.
Tal could absolutely strangle him for that particular decision and only the feeling that it would be like kicking a particularly friendly golden retriever kept him from reaching out and shaking the Torcher until his perfect, shiny teeth rattled.
