'Siri'
"Tremendously." Iris retorted, returning the nudge into his side the moment she saw a smile slip through the cracks. Then the joke came and there was a distinct silence that ensued, disturbed only by the chirp of a cricket somewhere off the side of the road.
"That was just... yes. A great career awaits you in comedy. Much fame. All the women. Or men?" She added, a hint of curiosity in her gaze. Although they were dosed with sarcasm there was no malice in her words, mirth warming her smile from the inside, like good Trocher liquor. Happily, she took another swig. It lightened her steps.
Then she was quiet. As Henry talked she thought back to the apparition she'd been following. She called out to him receiving nothing but deafening silence and yearning for the smallest sound in his voice. Yet the thought of Elias calling out to her from the chill of the deep night gripped her heart like a closed fist.
Once again that feeling came back. The feeling of not being drunk enough.
"No." Comes the answer, after some consideration. "Not with such fun guys around." A grin spreads across her face, pulling up the tendrils of carefree joy that was there a minute ago, so akin to happiness. Another sampling of the brew and she was in front of Henry, pushing the bottle into his chest. "Here, take this." When she looked at him there was a gentle tide behind her eyes. He too had seen loss, and there were no words Iris could find that would not sound empty in trying to carry the weight it put on the soul. She gave only a glance, a silent and intimate understanding. "And go to Torchline when LongNight comes. The dead should be honored with laughter." That's what Elias used to say, anyway.
"That was just... yes. A great career awaits you in comedy. Much fame. All the women. Or men?" She added, a hint of curiosity in her gaze. Although they were dosed with sarcasm there was no malice in her words, mirth warming her smile from the inside, like good Trocher liquor. Happily, she took another swig. It lightened her steps.
Then she was quiet. As Henry talked she thought back to the apparition she'd been following. She called out to him receiving nothing but deafening silence and yearning for the smallest sound in his voice. Yet the thought of Elias calling out to her from the chill of the deep night gripped her heart like a closed fist.
Once again that feeling came back. The feeling of not being drunk enough.
"No." Comes the answer, after some consideration. "Not with such fun guys around." A grin spreads across her face, pulling up the tendrils of carefree joy that was there a minute ago, so akin to happiness. Another sampling of the brew and she was in front of Henry, pushing the bottle into his chest. "Here, take this." When she looked at him there was a gentle tide behind her eyes. He too had seen loss, and there were no words Iris could find that would not sound empty in trying to carry the weight it put on the soul. She gave only a glance, a silent and intimate understanding. "And go to Torchline when LongNight comes. The dead should be honored with laughter." That's what Elias used to say, anyway.
