Entry tags:
Three is a crowd
WHO: Zevran Arainai, Maxwell Trevean
WHAT: Zev needs some space, Max doesn't mind sharing his
WHEN: Firstfall
WHERE: Fallow Mire, Max's tent
NOTES: Innuendo abounds
WHAT: Zev needs some space, Max doesn't mind sharing his
WHEN: Firstfall
WHERE: Fallow Mire, Max's tent
NOTES: Innuendo abounds
Share a tent with another elf and a mage? No problem. Share a tent with two elves and a mage with rampant tension of the fun, sexy kind in a bog full of the undead, a heavy reminder that he left behind his friend that may or may not be A) going mad or B) dying as well as a few rumors that the Crows were poking into Inquisition business and he may have to handle them sooner than he'd thought? He could not quite manage. A few nights keeping watch, the lightest of dozing, snatching moments in other tents, that would work. But one night to stretch out and not deal with whatever strangeness lay in that tent with his very fine companions? Would be a relief.
He certainly hoped Maxwell did not mind his company overmuch as he did not offer any kind of warning before settling at the fire outside Maxwell's tent as though he'd been there for the entire excursion.

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"Deal," he agreed with a nod, and then he ducked into the tent to fish out his half of the meal.
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"To gircios," he smiled.
[OOC: I honestly don't know the plural of that, and google wasn't helping, so I'm sorry if I got it wrong. D:]
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[ ooc: It's cobbled together italian I think we can call it good >_> ]