CHULANE
Weaver was something of an acquaintance to me, so far. I held no real knowledge of her outside of our interaction in building Loren's school, and occasionally seeing her when I hung out at the Kraai (which wasn't every day, but it was also very regular). I felt humbled by her extension of this opportunity to learn more, not just about the business she ran, but about her too - the passion and enjoyment I could see it stir within her told me as much about her as the words she spoke.
It was nice.
"A place called Earth. I was a farmer, and a doctor for animals, called a veterinarian." I provide the information openly, easily, hoping to breed trust and maybe friendship between us. "My profession involved spending a lot time learning," I add with a soft laugh and a smile.
I nod along to her talk of the drink - I admittedly had a sweet tooth when it came to my drinks, and I was a softie about it to boot. It didn't take much alcohol for my mind to go foggy, and I hated anything that made me feel less in control, so I did not indulge in the stuff too often. The cider here was fantastic, though, and it was truly fascinating to learn more about it. Weaver obviously knew her stuff, and I couldn't help the curiosity rise within me about that topic.
But before I could ask my question, I was given instructions, which I complied with readily, swirling the liquid around the glasses to ensure the spices are sufficiently dissolved and mixed in. I lift it to my lips and tip it in, smacking my lips together as the flavours danced along my lips and tongue and throat.
"Reminds me of apple pie," I admit, admiration on my face. "Delicious," I lift the glass to my lips again to take another drink.
"How long have you run this place for?"
It was nice.
"A place called Earth. I was a farmer, and a doctor for animals, called a veterinarian." I provide the information openly, easily, hoping to breed trust and maybe friendship between us. "My profession involved spending a lot time learning," I add with a soft laugh and a smile.
I nod along to her talk of the drink - I admittedly had a sweet tooth when it came to my drinks, and I was a softie about it to boot. It didn't take much alcohol for my mind to go foggy, and I hated anything that made me feel less in control, so I did not indulge in the stuff too often. The cider here was fantastic, though, and it was truly fascinating to learn more about it. Weaver obviously knew her stuff, and I couldn't help the curiosity rise within me about that topic.
But before I could ask my question, I was given instructions, which I complied with readily, swirling the liquid around the glasses to ensure the spices are sufficiently dissolved and mixed in. I lift it to my lips and tip it in, smacking my lips together as the flavours danced along my lips and tongue and throat.
"Reminds me of apple pie," I admit, admiration on my face. "Delicious," I lift the glass to my lips again to take another drink.
"How long have you run this place for?"
The only true wisdom is in knowing
you know nothing
you know nothing
