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[rowancrowned]

 

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i wish i had a kirby gif so badly right now

[filthydipper]

I mean I grew up here. Even in the dark we had stories about Sundermount and the last clan didn't end up coming out all jolly. [Or at all. Maybe that's what's happening now.

Is it kinder if a big weird rifter elf is absorbing them somehow?]

What sort of supper?

[rowancrowned]

Sundermount is not so bad.

[ downright homey, even. thranduil isn't afraid of the dark. ]

Stew and brown bread, in all likelihood. It is too cold for fish, still. Wine. Some manner of Orlesian pastry.

[filthydipper]

How many times you actually had to go crawling through it, bet you go send your underlings that go fawning about wanting to shine your boots. Or buff your slippers.

[It's velvet slippers yeah? Monogrammed with initials and elaborate antlers?]

If I can convince Gaspard to bed down in a stable again. I'll bring tea, is tea allowed at your table?

[rowancrowned]

Countless. It was mine.

[ l'état, c'est moi. or more specifically la terre, but he savors it in his mouth.

he will not be connected to the land here like that, not even now, after he'd shed his blood at ghislain. he had not worn a rut in the memory of the place, not yet. perhaps he ought to acquire some thick-soled slippers for the task. ]

Tea is allowed.

[filthydipper]

[Right well that's...

A thing not to be touched after coming back to Kirkwall, to the spectre of his father with an arm outstretched; mine and ours and a flexible view of possession even in jest.]

I'll bring the tea you can't be trusted, I'll be about when I'm about. Animals y'know.