30.Aug.13, 03:52 AM
In Z'jan's mind, a meal wasn't a meal unless there was someone to eat it with. Any solitary consumption didn't count. The calories might, sure, but a meal alone wasn't really a meal at all. Otherwise it was just him. Sitting. Chewing food. Looking around. Not talking to anyone.
[ghalath] Eat. Shards.[/ghalath] Z'jan was busy stagger-hopping his way past the dining hall, trying to dig a rock out of his boot without losing any of his forward momentum. Obviously. Eat shards? Ghalath gave the equivalent of a mental sigh. [ghalath] Sure... why not. Just eat something [/ghalath]
Z'jan was having no success at recovering the pedal-intruder. He might not be losing momentum, but he was definitely losing the battle. Quit whining. I'm headed to the dining hall right now. [ghalath] no, you're not... you just passed it.[/ghalath]
Z'jan put on the breaks. Could she see him? He glanced around, eventually spotting the flap of a mossy wing as it took to the skies. She's been spying on me this whole time, that minx.
Yeah, you better run... fly.
[ghalath] and you better eat. Your bones are pokey. You get tired. I think you've been avoiding someon--[/ghalath]
Point made. I'm going! Look. Z'jan goes, eats food, nom nom. Now go... nap. Or something. Z'jan pivoted, giving up on his boot. The rock stabbed him with each step, but he wasn't willing to actually stop moving to address the situation. Though he already had a blister on that foot from his barefoot running and general shenanigans in the woods. And the rock wasn't helping.
Ghalath circled once overhead, before flapping out of sight. Z'jan considered. She was right. He was losing weight. And muscle. And strength. But she was wrong about why. He wasn't avoiding someone. Quite the opposite. He just kept missing everyone. It seemed that no matter what time he found himself in the dining hall, everyone else had already eaten and left, or had yet to arrive. And he hardly had the patience to sit around and wait for them.
He passed inside, eyes struggling to adjust to the light. He blinked. Black splotches mingled in his vision like ghostly people. His spirits lifted. Maybe he'd gotten lucky today, despite the odd hour. But as his pupils dilated, they soon revealed the ruse. Resigned to his fate, still blinking away the sun glare, he moved towards the trays.
...and he got there sooner than he expected. Thwump.
It wasn't until he heard the Clang that he realized he hadn't run into the back wall of the dining hall, but rather straight into a real live person. A person! How convenient. That's just what he'd been looking for... then hadn't seen and consequently run into.
Despite their collision, and the bit of food now on Z'jan's shirt (and he'd actually found a clean one today... sorta), he beamed at the girl busy scooping plates and gushing apologies. After a moment of smiling, his brown quirked. She was very intent, this one. And not on him. Which was fine. But her passion for cleaning up the mess compelled Z'jan to feel the same passion. So he crouched, scooping up a fallen glass just to accidentally pour it's remaining contents on the floor, then nearly knocking heads with the girl as he reached for her still folded napkin.
After all, Z'jan was horrible expert at helping.
"It must have been pretty good" he chuckled "to miss it so much even after it's hit the ground. Here, let me--" He reached for a fallen roll, but the buttery surface would not be caged. It slipped away, wobbling more into her territory now than his. "--uh, pass that to you. There you go. I'm sure if you blow on it, it'll be fine."
[ghalath] Eat. Shards.[/ghalath] Z'jan was busy stagger-hopping his way past the dining hall, trying to dig a rock out of his boot without losing any of his forward momentum. Obviously. Eat shards? Ghalath gave the equivalent of a mental sigh. [ghalath] Sure... why not. Just eat something [/ghalath]
Z'jan was having no success at recovering the pedal-intruder. He might not be losing momentum, but he was definitely losing the battle. Quit whining. I'm headed to the dining hall right now. [ghalath] no, you're not... you just passed it.[/ghalath]
Z'jan put on the breaks. Could she see him? He glanced around, eventually spotting the flap of a mossy wing as it took to the skies. She's been spying on me this whole time, that minx.
Yeah, you better run... fly.
[ghalath] and you better eat. Your bones are pokey. You get tired. I think you've been avoiding someon--[/ghalath]
Point made. I'm going! Look. Z'jan goes, eats food, nom nom. Now go... nap. Or something. Z'jan pivoted, giving up on his boot. The rock stabbed him with each step, but he wasn't willing to actually stop moving to address the situation. Though he already had a blister on that foot from his barefoot running and general shenanigans in the woods. And the rock wasn't helping.
Ghalath circled once overhead, before flapping out of sight. Z'jan considered. She was right. He was losing weight. And muscle. And strength. But she was wrong about why. He wasn't avoiding someone. Quite the opposite. He just kept missing everyone. It seemed that no matter what time he found himself in the dining hall, everyone else had already eaten and left, or had yet to arrive. And he hardly had the patience to sit around and wait for them.
He passed inside, eyes struggling to adjust to the light. He blinked. Black splotches mingled in his vision like ghostly people. His spirits lifted. Maybe he'd gotten lucky today, despite the odd hour. But as his pupils dilated, they soon revealed the ruse. Resigned to his fate, still blinking away the sun glare, he moved towards the trays.
...and he got there sooner than he expected. Thwump.
It wasn't until he heard the Clang that he realized he hadn't run into the back wall of the dining hall, but rather straight into a real live person. A person! How convenient. That's just what he'd been looking for... then hadn't seen and consequently run into.
Despite their collision, and the bit of food now on Z'jan's shirt (and he'd actually found a clean one today... sorta), he beamed at the girl busy scooping plates and gushing apologies. After a moment of smiling, his brown quirked. She was very intent, this one. And not on him. Which was fine. But her passion for cleaning up the mess compelled Z'jan to feel the same passion. So he crouched, scooping up a fallen glass just to accidentally pour it's remaining contents on the floor, then nearly knocking heads with the girl as he reached for her still folded napkin.
After all, Z'jan was horrible expert at helping.
"It must have been pretty good" he chuckled "to miss it so much even after it's hit the ground. Here, let me--" He reached for a fallen roll, but the buttery surface would not be caged. It slipped away, wobbling more into her territory now than his. "--uh, pass that to you. There you go. I'm sure if you blow on it, it'll be fine."