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[scoffandjest]

With the intent of seeing Sagramore, or perhaps Lamorak, or anyone else frequently found in the general Mansion area, Sir Dinadan has ventured up to said Mansion. He has paused in the front room, however, to take a moment in front of the fire there because it is Too Damned Cold, if you ask his opinion-- and indeed, even if you don't ask it, because

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[le_desirous]

"You!" is Sagramore's enthusiastic salutation, accompanied by snagging Dinadan by the back of the shirt and pulling him into a hug (fear the domestic Sagramore in the winter, for that is the time of year when it is most active and aggressive).

[scoffandjest]

"Oof!" says Dinadan, who then proceeds immediately to attempt to disentangle himself, likely with little success.

[le_desirous]

"And how are you, you bastard?"

[scoffandjest]

"Who ordered all this damned snow? I must have a word with them. I don't approve in the least."

[le_desirous]

"You're an idiot. It's perfect."

[scoffandjest]

"How do you figure?"

[le_desirous]

"You don't like it." He kisses Dinadan just above the ear.

[scoffandjest]

"I believe that makes me the sensible one." He claps Sagramore on the shoulder. "How have you been keeping, then?"

[le_desirous]

"Astonishingly well. How have you been?"

[scoffandjest]

"As I said. I take issue with the climate."

[le_desirous]

"Besides that. What do you do? Besides complain."

[scoffandjest]

"Very little, I assure you."

[le_desirous]

"I was afraid of that."

[scoffandjest]

"I'm so glad you were concerned."

[le_desirous]

"Ever and always." He leans back against the hearth. "Jesu, I feel useless here."

[scoffandjest]

"Here being... this room? This place?"