You're a What? (Ndale)

[Warden Thrice]

Her eyes opened wide in wonder, and Eorar found himself grinning. She was like a child, amazed at the world around her as if seeing everything for the first time. Before he could say anything else, the waiter whisked into existence bearing two bowls. He set one down in front of each of them, and after some suggestive eyeing Eorar paid him. The waited half-bowed then spun off. “Leaves?” Ndale’s tone was puzzled, and Eorar shrugged. “If that is what you call them.” He watched her as she ignored the metal rods by her wrist and picked up the leaves by hand. She ate without qualms, and after a few moments Eorar mimicked her by disregarding the utensils and using his fingers, drawing a few odd looks from their neighbors. He was cautious, taking a very small bite and tossing it around in his mouth before deciding that he liked it. He set in with zeal at the exact moment Ndale posed another question. “The world it a dangerous place,” he said quietly. “Some people don’t liking what they don’t understanding. I am careful.” He returned focus to his food, doing his best to prevent his mind from wandering. It wasn’t something he was particularly interested in thinking about. “What do you doing, usually? During the day?” he asked when his bowl was haf-empty.

[Ndale Soromund]

Ndale nodded in understanding but did not speak for the moment. For being such a simple dish it was tasty enough and it hit her stomach just right. Still his words seemed wary, as if he knew that people would not accept him. Perhaps humans had been cruel to him at one point, Zeltiva was a more open city but even they had those that did not like any race save their own. If she wasn’t wrong the name those types of people were called had something to do with juice. They sat in continued silence for a while, both content to enjoy the company and fill their bellies. It was Eorar who finally broke the silence with simple questions. “I hunt lizards. Or read. Common tongue is hard to read but the place of many books has Kontinese.” She was always forgetting what it was called, something about unified? And some other word that started with an L. Poking around the strange red vegetable on her plate that was ridiculously juicy Ndale hesitated before popping it into her mouth and continuing, “I like to find answers. Research. For my notes. Humans be strange, always with the different faces.” Shrugging lightly she polished off the last of her food and returned Eorar’s question with many more of her own. Her eyes carefully watching each motion he made in both impatience and curiosity. She was trying to see what lay underneath his human guise. It was as well done as her own natural human skin. “And you do things, too? During day and night? We shall leave soon, yes? To see you swim! And what is this called? The red vegetables.” OOCAt the end there she is asking about tomatoes. Let's just say they were in the salad ^-^

[Warden Thrice]

He wasn’t quite sure what ‘hunt’ meant, but he knew what reading was and grinned in agreement. “Reading is nice. It tells of many things.” He looked down slightly. “My people don’t really having books. Well, not like here. We having writing, but books don’t lasting long. When we writing, we carving. Stone usually. Stone lasts. But no paper.” They chatted amiably as their food dwindled, and Eorar couldn’t help but notice the sharp and clear gaze that never left him. She watched his movements attentively, like he might watch a fish he couldn’t identify. He didn’t have to think very hard to determine why. “I swim during the day, mostly. Sometimes I walk around. I find things that other people drop. Almost finishing.” He gathered the last few leaves of lettuce and put them in his mouth. “Those?” he asked, looking at what she had gestured to. “I having no idea.” The waited appeared once again, then disappeared when Eorar paid him. The Chadora-turned-human waited for Ndale to finish, then stood. “Are you readying?”