(no subject)
He wanders in, a faint smile on his face as he closes the door behind him. The smell of grass is in his nose, cold and sweet and green and he doesn't think he'll ever get sick of that smell, of that color, no matter how much he sees it. His hands are a bit clammy and some of his hair's a little wet since he'd spent a little time enjoying the edge of the lake as well, but he'll dry out soon enough and there's no harm to it.
That being said, he's a bit hungry and so he makes his way to the bar. Quinn'd told him of the coins, so he pays no mind to the cost; it's easy enough for a man who's no longer used to money. As far as he's concerned, the steak is hot and fresh and cooked just right and the beer's never tasted better and the thought of a hot apple crumble to finish the lot of it off is almost as good as he figures it'll taste after all the rest.
Translation: Life isn't so bad.
That being said, he's a bit hungry and so he makes his way to the bar. Quinn'd told him of the coins, so he pays no mind to the cost; it's easy enough for a man who's no longer used to money. As far as he's concerned, the steak is hot and fresh and cooked just right and the beer's never tasted better and the thought of a hot apple crumble to finish the lot of it off is almost as good as he figures it'll taste after all the rest.
Translation: Life isn't so bad.