When Nina arrived, the first thing she did was grab a mug of ale for herself at the bar. Only once she had it in hand did she swing over to Zevlor, settle in the seat across from him, and pull a third over to prop her feet up on.
"How long have you been waiting?" She asked as she took a long swig of her drink before squinting at the window. Was she late? Oops.
"Oh, maybe fifteen minutes," he waves his hand casually as if to reassure her he doesn't mind. Chances are he's early, rather than that she's late. That's his usual M.O.
"Long enough to get food. Do you want some?" he nudges the basket of fries toward her. "I'm becoming a connoisseur of tavern food. Couldn't get enough of it when I first got here."
She reached for a fry without even confirming verbally that she was interested, and popped it into her mouth. "They don't make shit like this back home — well, not in the taverns I'm usually in. You know how hard it is to get salt at a seedy bar?"
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"How long have you been waiting?" She asked as she took a long swig of her drink before squinting at the window. Was she late? Oops.
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"Long enough to get food. Do you want some?" he nudges the basket of fries toward her. "I'm becoming a connoisseur of tavern food. Couldn't get enough of it when I first got here."
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