23.Jan.21, 12:39 PM
“Uh-huh,” Quinvalis replied, not believing the mysterious answer or giving much to her explanation. Would she actually end up being sinister? He kind of believed it about Mylorah in the moment. Why was she throwing people at him all of a sudden? He knew she was also in the Weyr for the next Hatching but apparently she thought he needed more friends. Or maybe she felt he was the best one to help Zelana out while she was here. He doubted that—this woman could get anyone to do anything, of that he was certain.
He gave a sigh, seeing that he was stuck with her a bit longer and figured the questions were basic enough that he could share answers. “The Weyr is nice; a lot of space and freedom. It’s also warmer to me since I’m originally from Telgar Hold. My mom’s side of the family runs a tavern there and I grew up helping around the place. It’s why I like helping down here when I have time.” He never did a lot of the actual cooking so that his cousins didn’t think he was trying to take their inheritance but he left that part out. Zelana may have been curious and friendly but Quinvalis didn’t trust easily—thanks to how family outside his mom and sister treated him—and that was enough information for her.
When they stepped outside, Quinvalis pulled out the toque and gloves he had kept in his pockets, quietly slipping them on. Then he gave Zelly a once over. “If you know Mylorah, I assume you’re from Ista. Are you sure you want to walk around with me and are you warm enough?”
He gave a sigh, seeing that he was stuck with her a bit longer and figured the questions were basic enough that he could share answers. “The Weyr is nice; a lot of space and freedom. It’s also warmer to me since I’m originally from Telgar Hold. My mom’s side of the family runs a tavern there and I grew up helping around the place. It’s why I like helping down here when I have time.” He never did a lot of the actual cooking so that his cousins didn’t think he was trying to take their inheritance but he left that part out. Zelana may have been curious and friendly but Quinvalis didn’t trust easily—thanks to how family outside his mom and sister treated him—and that was enough information for her.
When they stepped outside, Quinvalis pulled out the toque and gloves he had kept in his pockets, quietly slipping them on. Then he gave Zelly a once over. “If you know Mylorah, I assume you’re from Ista. Are you sure you want to walk around with me and are you warm enough?”