06.Jan.18, 03:34 AM
Erinath churred in laughter, carefully positioning himself so that he took up little space, not too close to Coroth, but was still comfortable. You are too kind to me. He told Coroth teasingly. He rather liked the green, finding her great fun to be around. Do you think we’ll have to intervene in this? Erinath asked her, inclining his head towards the inner weyr. The bronze knew his rider meant well, but the man could be so serious, even with friends.
As his dragon settled in, An’tell took one of the chairs offered to him, choosing a place that allowed him to watch C’dhin as he went about the kitchen. He was glad the knives were so immediately useful. There was always the worry with gifts - especially ones for people you hadn’t spoken to in what, two turns? - that you would get something not needed or useless. But, judging by the way C’dhin was looking at the knives, this gift had been well chosen.
“The stand I bought these from, really.” An’tell said, in answer to C’dhin’s question. “Since I’d been thinking about how I hadn’t been seeing friends much recently, I think you were closer to the surface of my thoughts then usual, and then I came across the cookware merchant.” He shrugged. “And now here I am.”
When the food was brought over, An’tell gave a quiet ‘thanks’ before reaching over to pick up a slice of fruit.
“I’m glad to see they work as intended.” He said, inspecting the fruit where it had been cut. Clean line, not jagged, no rips in the flesh of the fruit. Likely at least some of that was due to C’dhin’s skill, but even the most skilled person couldn’t make an awful blade cut this finely. Satisfied with what he was seeing, An’tell took a bite of the fruit.
“I hope they’re good choices for you. I may be able to tell they’re excellent quality smithwork, but I had to take the stall owner’s word on what they were to be used for. That’s what the standard one’s for, figured I couldn’t go wrong with that. And bread’s a staple, so that seemed reasonable, and I remembered you making a dessert with fruit back in Katila, and if I recall correctly the fruit needed to be peeled for it, so that one seemed like you might make good use of it.” An’tell shrugged again. All had seemed practical to him, but again, the man at the stall had not been the craftsman, just a middleman selling the pieces, so An’tell was somewhat hesitant to fully trust his words. The haughty opinions of a (former) crafter.
As his dragon settled in, An’tell took one of the chairs offered to him, choosing a place that allowed him to watch C’dhin as he went about the kitchen. He was glad the knives were so immediately useful. There was always the worry with gifts - especially ones for people you hadn’t spoken to in what, two turns? - that you would get something not needed or useless. But, judging by the way C’dhin was looking at the knives, this gift had been well chosen.
“The stand I bought these from, really.” An’tell said, in answer to C’dhin’s question. “Since I’d been thinking about how I hadn’t been seeing friends much recently, I think you were closer to the surface of my thoughts then usual, and then I came across the cookware merchant.” He shrugged. “And now here I am.”
When the food was brought over, An’tell gave a quiet ‘thanks’ before reaching over to pick up a slice of fruit.
“I’m glad to see they work as intended.” He said, inspecting the fruit where it had been cut. Clean line, not jagged, no rips in the flesh of the fruit. Likely at least some of that was due to C’dhin’s skill, but even the most skilled person couldn’t make an awful blade cut this finely. Satisfied with what he was seeing, An’tell took a bite of the fruit.
“I hope they’re good choices for you. I may be able to tell they’re excellent quality smithwork, but I had to take the stall owner’s word on what they were to be used for. That’s what the standard one’s for, figured I couldn’t go wrong with that. And bread’s a staple, so that seemed reasonable, and I remembered you making a dessert with fruit back in Katila, and if I recall correctly the fruit needed to be peeled for it, so that one seemed like you might make good use of it.” An’tell shrugged again. All had seemed practical to him, but again, the man at the stall had not been the craftsman, just a middleman selling the pieces, so An’tell was somewhat hesitant to fully trust his words. The haughty opinions of a (former) crafter.