She proceeds to make herself as comfortable as possible, toeing off her somewhat impressive high-heeled shoes and pulling out the tie that holds her hair back, away from her neck, before accepting a glass of whiskey when it's offered to her.
The box is regarded with slight curiosity - though inside, she's nearly brimming over with anticipation.
Urquhart reaches out to touch Moist's fingers in their hair, Saffron's and his. "Pretty colour," he says. "How about an ermine or sable as the third animal?"
He opens his box. Inside, there are three carved, stylised animals: fox, wolf, and sable, their shapes suggesting that, rather than ornamental, they might be the handles of something.
Her hair tangled with Urquhart's, she can only linger in close to look over his shoulder, lips brushing against the shell of his ear as she glances inside the box.
"They're beautiful," she hears herself saying, reaching out with one hand to run her fingertips across the shapes.
Urquhart takes the wolf, and pulls out something sideways, bending it smoothly open.
It's a knife.
"Yes," he says. "It cuts fruit and meat and inconveniently tied-up horses, and you can knife an adversary in an emergency, too. But it's better for fruit, really."
The blade is keen and flexible at once, made from folded steel.
"I thought so," Urquhart says. "The boy from Yrael's world who sometimes works in the forge with the Goth made them for me. I thought we could each use one."
"Already? But we haven't even done anything in the way of getting started," Saffron murmurs, reaching up to gently tangle fingers in Urquhart's hair, her knuckles grazing Alfred's cheek as she uses her grip on the long hair to pull his head back, leaving a trail of kisses along the curve of his neck.
The box is regarded with slight curiosity - though inside, she's nearly brimming over with anticipation.
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"It's better without cats," he says, and leans over to kiss each of them in turn.
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He kisses Urquhart and entwines their blond and red hair before taking a drink.
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He opens his box. Inside, there are three carved, stylised animals: fox, wolf, and sable, their shapes suggesting that, rather than ornamental, they might be the handles of something.
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"They're beautiful," she hears herself saying, reaching out with one hand to run her fingertips across the shapes.
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"Does it do something?"
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It's a knife.
"Yes," he says. "It cuts fruit and meat and inconveniently tied-up horses, and you can knife an adversary in an emergency, too. But it's better for fruit, really."
He offers the fox to Saffron.
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And, okay, maybe that's not all she'd use it for, she silently adds, examining the blade in the dim lighting. But only as a last resort.
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"Quite useful and easily hidden away."
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"I thought so," Urquhart says. "The boy from Yrael's world who sometimes works in the forge with the Goth made them for me. I thought we could each use one."
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"I only wonder if there's something we can do in return for your thoughtfulness."
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"I do hope you'll tell us what."
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"You're already doing it," he says.
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"Not nearly."
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