Iskra
Follow me when it's dark out
The approach of the wyrm pulls Goose from his game, tongue lolling wildly down the corner of his mouth as he turns his head to better regard the winged lizard. He liked chasing lizards. A confident woof is his initial greeting as he stands taller and more square, tail lifting higher behind him automatically, but he relaxes just as swiftly as Pip draws closer. She is small, and she looks fun!. The dog responds in kind by dropping eagerly into a play bow, rear waggling for a moment as Goose's mouth eases into a grin just before he shoots forward, front paws dramatically lifting at the smoke as he charges at her in a feint, only to dash away with an invitation of tag.The tequila holds Iskra. It makes the air thicker. Slower. He can feel it pushing on him like a humid day. He can feel it curling up around his brain, as cozy as the smoke that wrathed the fire; the haze was a familiar comfort that kept him from himself. All of this made his awareness of the approaching duo dulled, and were it someone more nefarious perhaps this would have been Iskra's final night (although maybe the damn dog would have helped out in that case). As it was, Iskra only had the threat of company, and at that, he smiled.
"Hey," he called back, softer as Koa had drawn near, dipping his head in a nod of greeting. In response to Koa's explanation, Iskra burst out with a short, hard laugh that roused deep from his gut. He tilted his head back with the energy and finished with a grin too wide to fade quickly from his face, "so we're the same, except mine's name is Goose." Beneath the humor, Iskra regarded the man, who seemed to carry himself with an ease as equally obtainable as a command. This was someone who could prove dangerous in a different setting, of that Iskra had no doubt. Unthreatened though, and with a fresh night settling upon them, Iskra pat the sand next to him in offering. "Don't be shy, there's fire and drink enough to last you until they've run themselves to sleep." Iskra paused suddenly, eyes flashing with another broad smile. "Or so I hope anyway," he seemed to sigh, like a weary father running on sleepless nights after a toddler, except Goose was as much the parent as he if he was being honest. The tequila swirled in his hand again, a pointed reminder of how much of a baby he could be by the end of the bottle.
Iskra proffered it to the man without looking, arm outstretched as his attention shifted towards the shoreline, watching the happy idiots play. "I'm Iskra."
