[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240524/86e79bc2959bc89d2b7fa7a65116c32c.png[/img][/center] [sub][color=9a45dc]Location[/color]: Outside the Eye of the Beholder[/sub] [hr] While Ivor hadn’t wanted to waste too much time cutting the tree down to size, but like earlier in the woods, he found himself getting into a steady rhythm. There was something relaxing about being one of the few people awake and working, watching those he knew (and didn’t) getting up for the ‘day’. He’d already been greeted by the prince, even though he seemed to be in a sour mood. Ivor didn’t want to bother him and simply said morning to the young blackened sun in return. Several other townsfolk wandered by, either in search of food or beginning morning chores, some greeting the towering giant and others going about their business. He recognized that the line between man and blightborn was very thin indeed and while some trusted Ivor to behave, others still had their reasons to be wary. It didn’t bother the man much, he was used to being treated somewhat differently than others. His heritage amongst his clan held a legacy, a promise, and that intimidated people. It often led others to speak with him with only eyes above hushed waters, masking their true intentions with flair or formality. Nowadays, he intimidated people for an entirely different reason, but if what he said to Kira last night was to be true, then he would need to make it so and not let such ‘little things’ bother him. [color=c4df9b] “Good morning, There's a big town clan meet, moon. Half way. Western sky. You might not have got and too few of us know this one, If you have spare firewood, I might need more, we have a baker to support Hunter Ivor.”[/color] Ivor looked up from his tree once more and smiled as he watched Sya exit the inn less concealed than she normally was. In the few months he’d known her, she’d kept her appearance obscured with a thick cloak, especially while out and about. Being a blightborn was no easy life and where it can take so many shapes, change into so many forms, not everyone was lucky enough to retain all of their human features; to see Sya out like this, brought a sense of joy. In tow was a rather ample young woman with black as night hair, possibly the baker Sya mentioned? Despite the odd matching and pairings of languages, Ivor got the gist of what she was saying. [color=9a45dc]"Good morning ladies!"[/color] he greeted the two of them in the common tongue, waving with his free hand. [color=9a45dc][b]“Ja, Syraeia, I’ll make sure to be there,”[/b][/color] he called back in the guttural tongue of his tribe, [color=9a45dc][b]“and Seluna’s light is dull to the beauty you shine on us this morning, may she guide you ever brighter!”[/b][/color] He placed a hand over his heart, bowing his head deeply as she walked by. He gave a big smile and waved both of them off before resuming with his earlier task. As he sized up how he was going to cut out the actual door from the heartwood, it occurred to him that the best possible size was the actual door itself. Approaching the building Ivor stepped up to the door and began to un-wedge it from the frame. It took a bit of effort considering he put it there to begin with, he hoped he wasn’t breaking anything else inside with his racket. Finally the door unjammed with a loud crack as more wood splintered away from the remaining hinge plates. Looking inside Ivor wanted to make sure that people were both okay and that he didn’t cause more damage than he already had. Giving a sheepish grin to the people around, he simply stated, [color=9a45dc]“Ivor sorry, but I must borrow this door to make a new door; excuse me.”[/color] Politely, he backed both himself and the door out of the tavern. Walking back to the log, he placed the broken door over a flattened area and using that as reference, started hacking out a shape with his hatchet. [hr][sub][color=9a45dc]Interacts with[/color]: Syraeia [@PrinceAlexus], Becky [@amorphical]; [color=9a45dc]Mentions[/color]: Prince Flynn [@The Muse][/sub]