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Vanilla - Around the Campfire
Main Entry
Timeframe : 1256
The flames leapt and snapped in a swift, churning dance that kept pace with the bawdy lyrics that rolled off Lyssa’s tongue. The red knight swayed, half-drunk bottle in her hand. Rune sat beside her, eyes wide and cheeks crimson, and she threw an arm around his shoulders at the approach of the chorus. Ski shook her head and fed a chunk of green pepper onto her skewer without a word.
Tess elbowed Ilya and added her own deep voice to the refrain, while the white knight flushed and sputtered. Lyssa passed them the bottle, and Ilya drank deeply and joined in on the phrases she thought might be safe as she handed it off to Tess.
Grinning ear to ear, Tess brought it to her lips and threw her head back. With the nearly empty bottle, she prodded Farran, who looked down her nose at the both of them, but accepted the offer just the same. She took a dainty sip in silence, slowly swishing the meager remains about, a look of distant amusement on her features as the three continued their song.
Ski threaded a piece of meat on the spit, her lip tucked between her teeth as Lyssa launched into a verse even more salacious than the last. She felt the cold touch of glass against her shoulder and looked up to find Farran bent over her, bottle in hand. She raised a hand to protest but found the drink pressed to her palm.
With a sigh, she took a sip. The liquor, sweet and bitter, tore a path down her throat. She held the bottle at arm’s length, swallowed hard against the acrid, choking flow of alcohol, and passed it hastily on to the still blushing Rune.
He took a frantic gulp as Lyssa aimed a particularly graphic turn of phrase his way, and Ski settled back, with a sigh, into her solitary position to wonder how it was that the more companions joined her, the lonlier such a place felt.
Main Entry
Timeframe : 1256
The flames leapt and snapped in a swift, churning dance that kept pace with the bawdy lyrics that rolled off Lyssa’s tongue. The red knight swayed, half-drunk bottle in her hand. Rune sat beside her, eyes wide and cheeks crimson, and she threw an arm around his shoulders at the approach of the chorus. Ski shook her head and fed a chunk of green pepper onto her skewer without a word.
Tess elbowed Ilya and added her own deep voice to the refrain, while the white knight flushed and sputtered. Lyssa passed them the bottle, and Ilya drank deeply and joined in on the phrases she thought might be safe as she handed it off to Tess.
Grinning ear to ear, Tess brought it to her lips and threw her head back. With the nearly empty bottle, she prodded Farran, who looked down her nose at the both of them, but accepted the offer just the same. She took a dainty sip in silence, slowly swishing the meager remains about, a look of distant amusement on her features as the three continued their song.
Ski threaded a piece of meat on the spit, her lip tucked between her teeth as Lyssa launched into a verse even more salacious than the last. She felt the cold touch of glass against her shoulder and looked up to find Farran bent over her, bottle in hand. She raised a hand to protest but found the drink pressed to her palm.
With a sigh, she took a sip. The liquor, sweet and bitter, tore a path down her throat. She held the bottle at arm’s length, swallowed hard against the acrid, choking flow of alcohol, and passed it hastily on to the still blushing Rune.
He took a frantic gulp as Lyssa aimed a particularly graphic turn of phrase his way, and Ski settled back, with a sigh, into her solitary position to wonder how it was that the more companions joined her, the lonlier such a place felt.