“Only that much? That sounds even more miserable as what I have had to subsist on in the past.” A deep shudder wracked the Drakari, from his wingtips to his toes; bad memories, he found, pierced through one’s skin better than even the cold. “But, nevermind that. Shall we be off?”
“Yes, if you will,” she said courteously. If his fumbling tongue had instilled any curiosity in her, she was polite enough to hide it for the moment.
Varin folded up the map and slipped it back into Aynur’s bag, squinting into the rain-darkened town just a few steps away from the tavern. He gingerly took the healer by the hand and started off, taking great care with her. It was interesting to have a (featherless) companion alongside him. Perhaps it would be rude of him to consider her blindfold a good thing, but he found it refreshing to be around someone who wouldn’t stare at his wings, or accuse him of being a demon, or the result of bad breeding. In a purely artistic sense, the blindfold also gave her the appearance of mystique -- an aesthetic he would love to catch on paper.
There were a few questions he refrained from asking as they slogged through the soggy storm. He figured that the inquiry could wait until they were in a place comfortable enough for casual conversing. Slyly, Varin raised one of his wings over her head. Arie gave him a curious sideways glance and made a sultry chirp.
“Hush you,” he muttered back. “Just repaying.”
Aynur appeared not to hear the hushed exchange, and yet she smiled.
They squished through soggy grass and slick mud until they came upon one of the small buildings. It was old, but homey. Dark green ivy crept up it’s rough stone walls. “This establishment here serves food,” Varin said, a bit dimly. He hesitated at the door, giving a glance back at his blind company. “Would you… would you go in first? You might make a better first impression than I would.”
“And why is that?” she asked, not unkindly.
He paused with his hand above the shabbly handle. “Some here find me startling to behold. But, ah, nevermind. It matters not.”
They stepped inside, Varin with an air of caution and Aynur with one of trust. The Drakari wrung out his braids and robes, wincing at the muddy puddle that pooled on the lovingly polished floor at his feet. He considered removing them for a moment. But, he felt more secure with them on. A solemn side-eye was given to the catering staff, who were the only ones present. It consisted of an old man asleep, and a plump young woman who perked up at the tinkling of the door’s bells. “Ey, didn't expect t’ get any visitors in this weather,” the lady called over to them, her voice bright with curiosity. She stretched and got to her feet, seeming glad to have something to do -- or someone new to talk to. “What can I get for ya?”
“Whatever is on the house for me. Tea.” He was still bitter about losing his first cup. “And the lady would probably want something simple, no?”
When the waitress left, Varin squished down into the nearest chair and rubbed his eyes. Tiredness was creeping in with the chill. He’d probably have to stay the night in this lonely little town. The young man peered up at Aynur from between his fingers. “So. I know my business here -- passing through -- but not yours. If you are of a holy sect, as you implied before, then what might you be doing in this place? Evangelizing? Or merely doing good deeds through song?”
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