WHO: Isaac + Ellis, Others WHAT: Catchall WHEN: Time's fake WHERE: Ferelden, other places NOTES: Will edit as appropriate, hit me up on plurk if I owe you something.
"Erases your old life," The innkeeper is a dwarf twice over for the great dog sprawled beside him. The hearth blazes. He pats her side, half-drunk. "Dust to ash. Just you, and the dog, and the fight. Warriors, all of them,"
The mabari yawns. Isaac lingers with fingers half-curled; his smile banal as it is uncertain. He has seldom been at ease with hounds.
"Fierce in their milk teeth," He agrees. One fumbling puppy sniffs at Ellis' boot — chomps down, begins to shake the toe in its grip. "Why, it's already spied a bear."
(Edgehall is a journey yet, and no one has been too interested in troubling a mage, a Warden; not when they pay well. There may be need to camp in the days ahead, as they draw closer to the border.)
Edited (It's not 2 am any more and I can read now) 2021-03-08 18:06 (UTC)
All the innkeeper's fond praise of his mabari has been heard before. Ellis grew up with it. He'd traveled with bonded Wardens who'd spoken of it much the same. Ellis is comfortable enough for the both of them, though he also knows better than to think the claim they won't bite unprovoked is going to put Isaac at ease.
Rather than join the conversation, Ellis crouches down to meet his attacker. The vigorous gnawing ebbs, ceases as Ellis runs gentle fingers over it's snout.
"They're a good size already," Ellis compliments, as the inkeeper's mabari slits one eye open to observe them. The puppy skitters back to it's cluster of clumsy siblings, squeaky yips more comedy than intimidation.
"Are they spoken for?" is a different sort of discussion. The politics of who gets what mabari is a whole other thing, maybe one Ellis shouldn't inquire into.
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ellis; inn
The mabari yawns. Isaac lingers with fingers half-curled; his smile banal as it is uncertain. He has seldom been at ease with hounds.
"Fierce in their milk teeth," He agrees. One fumbling puppy sniffs at Ellis' boot — chomps down, begins to shake the toe in its grip. "Why, it's already spied a bear."
(Edgehall is a journey yet, and no one has been too interested in troubling a mage, a Warden; not when they pay well. There may be need to camp in the days ahead, as they draw closer to the border.)
my lol at that image
Rather than join the conversation, Ellis crouches down to meet his attacker. The vigorous gnawing ebbs, ceases as Ellis runs gentle fingers over it's snout.
"They're a good size already," Ellis compliments, as the inkeeper's mabari slits one eye open to observe them. The puppy skitters back to it's cluster of clumsy siblings, squeaky yips more comedy than intimidation.
"Are they spoken for?" is a different sort of discussion. The politics of who gets what mabari is a whole other thing, maybe one Ellis shouldn't inquire into.