Ah, dwarves. Zevran gave said dwarf an idle wave while he waited for her to return with their ale. He seemed friendly enough for a surface dwarf- for the most part they could all be terribly cranky. Something about a lack of honor or something. He never paid much mind to that. He did, however, pay a great deal of mind to Ellana's ever so fine figure, the grace in her walk and curl to her smile. The shade of her hair wasn't so terrible either, even if it dredged up another elf, another smile, another figure he admired.

Those thoughts are shoved aside as he offers her a hand to lead her to the table in question. "After you."