Renrael

The Little Things

The Dwarven nesting doll smiled cheerfully up at him with what he imagined was barely held laughter. He hadn’t met many dwarves in his life, but he hoped he might meet someone with her outlook soon. Renrael felt his own grin ruck to the side in answer to her.

He always spoke Common to her. “How long you gonna stay on my nightstand this time, yeah? Very cosmopolitan, aren’t ya? Whisking away around the world. Probably been through more portals than I ever will. Probably seen a LOT; I know who’s pocket you usually sit in. Your courtier will be back for you, soon, I’m sure.” He winked and his fingernail tapped against her in a playful cuff; he was careful not to tip her over. He stood up and his eyes drifted over the other bits and bobs on his nightstand as he scrubbed his hand through his hair and sighed.

The fish-clock was a gift, and it stood out in the otherwise rather spartan room. He rolled his lips, fingers pausing on the knob, before he wound it carefully. It kept time well. Caleigh was a good engineer it seemed. He swallowed, thinking about the way her mace-flail fit in her hand. He’d never imagined that part of her--there was knowing something, and there was knowing. He didn’t shiver. This time.

The tavern was quiet this time in the morning. There were the usuals from town. He could hear Melisande and the kids somewhere in the back kitchen. He pushed out the front door with his hands deep in his pocket and his ears pulled down near to the wool of his sweater. The chill was wonderful, he loved it, but it still played with physical instincts.

This was always the dock he came to without thinking. He sat on the edge. It wasn’t used frequently, which was probably why she’d picked it that night. He could still picture how pretty her hair had looked--she’d put it up. Shining with copper colored brightness, even in the dull evening light of Tol Barad. Her smile had been brighter still. His shoulders hunched and he leaned forward. Still, he smiled at the memory and brought up another of her much more recently. Melisande had grinned after kissing that Tart guy, too. She was made of smiles and sweet tartness, herself. At least Lyn’s money had gotten someone something happy that night.

Was he really that confusing? Did he mislead people? .. Wait. Yes, of course, but not about that.

At least Trisandrah had been up front.

Sort of.

His brows beetled. The gull that had been hoping for some of the fish suddenly shook his head, flapped without rhythm, tottered between his two slapping feet, ungracefully floundered off the dock, and honestly seemed to wobble into the sky. Ren watched the bird and snorted, knowing just how that bird felt.

Over his shoulder, he thought he could spot Gigi’s spa. She, too, had surprised him with her nonchalant violence. Skills she clearly took for granted: applying mud-masks and bleeding someone who was in her way. He pushed to his feet and made his way toward her shop. He had put it off until he’d felt more settled again, after the Meadowshine adventure and the jaunt to Stormwind with Audemus, but he intended to as the nightborne woman to teach him to fight. She was probably used to people awkwardly asking her to teach them things. He blew out a breath through his cheeks. Well, this was going to be more stabbing than skincare, but you had to start somewhere, right?

@melisande @audemus @trisandrah @caleigh