[center][h2][color=9a45dc]Ivor, The Wild[/color][/h2][/center]
[sub]Location: Eye of the Beholder[/sub]
[hr]
The young woman’s gaze met with his and she returned his smile with a small one of her own, greeting him with the morning and offering an invite to join her at the table. He nodded and sized up the chair across from her, something that was probably three sizes too small for his massive frame. He debated the odds, knowing that he’d shattered at least two of Sya’s chairs already, though only one of those incidents involved him actually sitting in it. He assessed the chairs’ integrity as best he could, but was determined to be as careful as possible while lowering himself down unto the wooden mound. The chair audibly groaned under his weight, but held up the blightborn’s frame without breaking. Feeling secure he hunched his body lower to the table so he was more eye level with his compatriot across the table.

[color=9a45dc]“So far, it has been a good morning Miss Kira,”[/color] he nodded, recounting the events that had played out so far, [color=9a45dc]“I brought back fish for the people, I met with Miss Syraea this morning,”[/color] he turned to look at the tavernkeep as she set about bringing food and other sustenance to the human patrons, [color=9a45dc]“She seems well, and happy.”[/color] Despite her recent transformation and the fears she confessed to him, to Ivor it felt like Sya was exactly where she belonged, even if she didn’t fully realize it herself. Turning his attention back to Kira, a big grin plastered on his face, he looked her up and down as well. [color=9a45dc]“You seem to also be in the.. Eh, how they say, ‘in the spirit of the good’?”[/color] He scratched his chin, unsure if that was the correct sentiment, but overall compared to the night he found her, and hunted together, she looked much healthier and far less pallid. [color=9a45dc]“Eh..What Ivor means is, ‘Miss Kira you are looking well this day’.”[/color] Eris’ ‘how to approach others’ advice rang in his ears as he folded his arms, nodding solemnly that this was correct; though something hard was poking him in the arm.

Eyes squinting with confusion he felt around for what was poking him, only to realize it was the bottle of homemade liquor Sya had given him. The blightborn giant wasn’t used to holding onto things discreetly so he’d almost forgotten about it. A glint twinkled in Ivor’s eye as a devilish thought occurred, one that involved him sampling the concoction here and now. He briefly looked around, eyes darting from side to side before hunching even lower to the table. A hand raised and beckoned Kira to lean in closer as he lowered his voice to a strained hush, [color=9a45dc]“Do not be telling anyone, but Ivor also has the ‘spirit of good’ in a little bottle,”[/color] he put a finger to his lips, making a shushing motion as he attempted to discreetly pull the container from his tunic; at least as discreetly as a three hundred pound man of muscle could. He eyed over the bottle, clear liquid inside giving off a subtle effervescence of fermentation. [color=9a45dc]“Ivor has not actually tried this yet, but Miss Syraea says it should taste like home.”[/color]

Ivor uncorked the bottle, pressing a nostril towards the opening as he took a whiff. What happened next felt like an eternity passing, but was more than likely a few seconds. The aromatic pungence of hard liquor, combined with the gentle notes of flora, juniper berry and honey blasted its way through the blightborn’s sinuses. The scent flared up his nostrils and his whole face felt like it was burning, his body’s natural response was to expel the scent as violently as it had encroached.

With a mighty bellow and blow, Ivor sneezed.

The winds of change were upon the table and the gale was fast approaching Kira.

Fortunately no viscous fluids had left his body and he was already ahead on inhaling whatever remnants were trying to escape down his gullet. A deep breath and a quick wipe with the back of his wrist band, Ivor smiled sheepishly at Kira, [color=9a45dc]“Ivor apologize.”[/color] He resumed examining the container, then knocked it back, gulping down a couple glugs before pulling the bottle away. The burning sensation down his throat was almost immediate and Ivor couldn’t help but hiss as he breathed in to fight back. The sensation was short lived as the warmth travelled down his belly, coating his stomach in a way that felt both familiar and filled him with a sense of bliss. Sya was right, this was home in a bottle and more memories came flooding back of bygone days.

The blightborn sighed, [color=9a45dc]“I have been thinking of my old home much today, the village and its people. In many ways they are much like the same here, yet so very different.”[/color] He looked at Kira, her eyes calculating, her demeanor composed and her contemplation so very quiet. Ivor couldn’t help but chuckled a little, [color=9a45dc]“You would have like Aleksi I think, you and him, very much the same, very calm, very…”[/color] he thought for a moment as how best to say it, before simply attempting to match Kira’s brooding face; although it more looked like strained grumpiness. After a few seconds of making the face he couldn’t help but laugh. The laughter faded into a bittersweetness, [color=9a45dc]“Ivor know, he can never go home, never go back to village, but on days and nights when it is difficult, thinking of home helps.”[/color] He stared at Kira, watching her thoughts process, realizing he really didn’t know much about her. [color=9a45dc]“If it is not minded, Ivor is wondering, before coming here, what did Miss Kira call home?”[/color]

[sub]Interacting with: Kira [@The Muse][/sub]