Participants:

Seren_icon.gif Garou_icon.gif Cenn_icon.gif

Scene Title No Dead Rabbits
Synopsis Winter is the worst and only Revas is un-awkward.
Location Kirkwall Circle - Central Courtyard
Date 07 Haring, 9:31 Dragon
Watch For Eggs.
Logger Garou

There's a point in early evening when light hits the courtyard just enough to warm the place to tolerable levels. Tolerable if you're good with cool weather and don't have something else better to do. The fountain is still running at this point, though it will probably be far too cold for that soon enough. You know what it's also too cold for? Large nightwings who would much rather be huddled in a blanket nest, thank you. But no. Seren is out and so she's firmly attached herself to his shoulder, complaining in her own way in the elf's ear as he walks out into the courtyard.

Tolerable. Is that the word for it? Certainly not, if one were to judge by the appearance of the Kirkwall Circle's own pet Orlesian. The Lieutenant isn't in uniform this evening - off-duty for the day - but is wrapped in the largest (and frankly, heaviest) set of furs likely to be seen north of Ferelden. He's not… quite sneaking about, since his movements are slow and almost shuffling, but he's certainly not drawing any attention to himself and has taken care to muffle the jingling sound that almost always follows him about from place to place.

It has been icing over at night, breath fogs, and the sky has turned a heavy, fluffy grey. It's almost familiar to someone who grew up in Ferelden. Then, however, unreasonably tall buildings and the smell of the harbor very much ruin that illusion. Nevertheless, it has pulled out a couple of more Ferelden traditions from Cenn. Heavy wool under everything that definitely is not Order issue, and a thick cloak over his armor that is almost certainly breaking at least three regulations. He can have it out with Cullen later, right now it is cold, and this much metal, no matter what you do to it, will leech heat. Luckily, however, his patrol is just ending, afternoon turning into evening, and he's headed through the courtyard as a short cut to his rooms. Seren gets a nod and a small smile, but he's not inclined to interrupt the Mage, or Revas and her complaining. And he likely would have continued right on through if it weren't for the fact that someone trying not to draw attention to themselves in the Circle, when he wasn't quite long enough off patrol to be relaxed, does precisely the opposite of that. It makes Cenn stop, taking a second before he registers just who it is, and he turns to come up to Garou's side, though he doesn't say anything just yet.

Look, everyone might be content to not say a word to each other, but Revas isn't bound by those sort of social rules. Even if she should be. So, with one last tug at Seren's hair, she takes off from the elf's shoulder to make an attempt at Cenn's. Of course, she has SOME manners (now) and circles as she makes those odd coo-noises that are her request. "… Revas!" He sighs. "Creators, it's probably not the time…" And it'll be about that time that he realizes he's probably the least 'bundled up' person here, but he's given up on warm.

Garou had been on his way somewhere. There'd been a goal and a purpose and everything. But with familiar steps coming up alongside, there is an immediate sigh and he does stop - turning toward Cenn with his mouth already open to start talking when there is suddenly bird. So, instead of whatever it was he was going to say, it's just a simple dry statement of the obvious. "You've made a friend."

When Garou stops and turns to say something, Cenn smiles just a little. But both Templars are distracted at the same moment, as those cooing noises make Cenn look up and he sighs acquiescence. "Hello to you, too, Revas." His shoulders are broad as it is, but the addition of this armor really means Revas can probably figure out how to perch on him readily enough. "Yes, so it seems." He answers Garou before looking back to Seren. "Evening." It's not cold… Not exactly, but there's a distance in that greeting for the mage.

"I'm sorry, I brought her out here to practice a little, not so that she could be a pest." Seren shakes his head at the bird but nods to both Templars. "Good evening." As for Revas? She settles in easily, even taking time for one of those weird, upside down looks toward Garou. There's time for a brief vocal greeting and then it's groom time. "Friend… I believe she thinks you're her offspring."

"Practice?" Garou's voice is rough and rumbling, the kind of texture that tends to come from disuse. Or coughing. It isn't rude on purpose, but it likely doesn't sound very friendly either. He shifts his weight from foot to foot and tugs his fur… wrap-cape-cloak-thing tighter around his neck and shoulders. Revas' look is met with a stare that's just a little too flat to be entirely comfortable - pupils blown just a touch beyond what they should be and perhaps a little bit mismatched. "I don't think she'd have survived laying an egg this size."

Cenn can't help himself, that gets a decent laugh. "I should hope I would not have come out of an egg this size. Then again, I should hope I didn't come out of an egg at all. Otherwise, my mother has some very uncomfortable questions to answer." He says, but does reach up to pat at breast feathers a couple times, gentle for the sake of the heavy metal gauntlets that he has yet to take off. There's a glance to that fur that Garou has himself wrapped in, and a softer smile follows, before he pulls his gaze away. "It's alright, she doesn't bother me." He says then to Seren, sounding mostly casual.

Seren is dead silent for a second , but even he laughs at the remark. "Your mother and my bird, both." But then his gaze goes to Garou and humor gives way to concern. "Are you alright, lieutenant? Forgive me if I'm prying, but with this weather…" Save for the careful distance he keeps, he couldn't be more casual in tone. "Oh, the practice. I'm trying to get her used to flying with something round her neck instead of grasped in her talons. Better for long distance."

There's a moment after that explanation where Garou just… stares at Seren. "Tie it to her leg," he deadpans, rumbly voice flat and devoid of inflection. "Even ravens carry missives that way." And the way he looks at Revas makes the point that she is… significantly larger than a raven. He catches the tail-end of Cenn's little smile and there is a moment where it seems like his whole posture softens just a little - thaws just a little - and then Seren's question registers and he draws himself up to his full height while at the same time pulling that ridiculously large fur tighter around himself. "I'm fine." Oh, there's the growl. Knew it couldn't have gotten far.

Cenn's not one for falconry, and so he stays quiet on that front. There are fluffy feathers, and Cenn's just going to focus on that for a moment. That is, of course, until Garou's growl returns and he looks at the other Templar again. There's no reproach in it, mostly concern, and a little as though he would reach out to him if it weren't for the fact that cold metal probably wouldn't be helpful in any conceivable way.

Seren holds up a piece of ironbark carved into the shape of a feather, considering it. "I thought it might be a bit much on the leg." Of course it's not just a trinket, there's more in that carving than just pretty marks. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try here in the courtyard. Once she's done with her parenting duties." The growl is definitely noticed, but he merely nods. "Of course, lieutenant. I'm glad the concern was unnecessary."

Ironbark is distinctive enough - at least to someone who had been raised in a family whose principle wealth had been made off their ghostwood timber - that it not only catches Garou's attention, it jogs his memory. "I've seen mabari smaller than this bird," he states dismissively, obviously not concerned about the dire owl's ability to carry the bit of wood but also eager to get to his own question, grumbling as it is. "Where is it you've been getting the wood you're carving?"

"I think I've gotten things larger than that delivered by particularly sturdy ravens, in fact." Cenn says with a small nod, "I'm sure she could manage." But then he's going back to feathery friend, because it's the best he's got. Which isn't very much at all, but he's present, at least. Though he does look up at that question, a little curious as to the answer himself.

"Revas usually brings in bits from her hunts. Various sizes, though I don't know what she bases her choice on. This piece I've had for a while- it was in my bag- I just didn't know what to do with it. …and I was less worried about the weight than it getting caught on something if she has to stop to rest. I suppose it's flat enough to go against her leg." Seren tucks the feather back into his pocket and shakes his head. "I wasn't worried about the weight, she's brought in full bottles of rum. I'm discouraging that, but it's happened. Honestly, I'm starting to miss the days when she felt the need to drop dead rabbits on my face." There's a disgruntled noise from said bird, not that it interrupts her grooming efforts. "When she was new to hunting successfully."

"Revas brings…" Garou trails off and shakes his head, muttering a string of Orlesian invectives under his breath. "Of course that's where it came from, which leaves me right back where I started from." Except, from the look of it, colder and in a much fouler mood. And without so much as a by-your-leave, he's turning on his heel and stalking off in his original direction at his stiff-legged pace - toward the Templars' offices and beyond, to their training grounds. Because he's a smart cookie, really. Honestly.

"Perhaps try wrapping it if you're worried about the hard edges catching." Cenn supplies quietly, "Perhaps if you miss the rabbits so much, you could ask for them." And he's looking at the bird then, "Rabbits, apparently, is the want these days. Don't ask me why. Dead things never were the way to my heart." But then Garou's turning cursing, and Cenn blinks, and when the other Templar moves to leave, he crinkles his nose. There's a nod to Seren, and a small roll of his shoulder that means that if Revas wants to be with Seren she should probably leave his shoulder. And then he's following Garou, getting out of his armor can wait.

"No, no, it was a joke. No dead rabbits. … send her away if she becomes a bother." Seren apparently has no energy to deal with things right now. "And, if you find out where I was supposed to be getting the wood, could you tell me? Whatever he may think, I am at least no thief." But he is cold and tired so he's going to walk in the direction of his room now.

Garou is unquestionably in the worst of moods - and his stiff, stalking, growling manner is not helping his case actually at all - but he's not so far gone as to actually lose himself to his paranoia. There are no accusations made, nor thrown; he's just shuffling off toward the practice rings - followers or none.

"Ah… I don't… I don't think that's what was meant, Seren." Cenn says with a shake of his head, but that's the only explanation he offers. He's not about to stop Seren from going back to his room, and he has a friend to follow. And probably poke at… At least a little.


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