Orin snorted at Aoren’s attempt to sound all sagelike and wise. “Oh, sorry. It’s a good saying.” Orin couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped though. “Sorry. I don’t know why I think it’s so funny. I know what you mean though.” Admittedly, if Aoren was trying to make some profound comment about how the trip from Syliras to Riverfall felt longer than it actually was, well, then Aoren was operating without all the facts he need to make an accurate judgement. Orin hadn’t come straight to Riverfall after departing the fortress city. Instead, he’d gone all the way to Abura, where he’d spent at least some time, before eventually departing that desolate isle when it was clear that his talents weren’t appreciated by the Akvatari who dwelled there. It also was the site of Orin’s severing, when the chef had decided to finally cut ties with his bondmate, so it held more than a few unhappy memories for the chef, and he’d felt the need to get away. Orin had made a brief stop in Riverfall on the way down, and seeing as he wasn’t ready or willing to crawl back to Syliras, and he didn’t know any other cities to go to, Orin had returned to the place that seemed like it could help him make a fresh start. Of course, the chef hadn’t reckoned on the debilitating depression that the severance of his bond would cause, nor did he imagine that it would reopen old wounds that he’d done his best to seal. So the chef had sunk into an apathy, and never really found his place here. Until this season, he hadn’t really emerged from the shell he’d been reduced to.
It was nice to see Aoren lose composure at least a little bit. It made Orin feel less awkward himself in terms of their interactions. It was intimidating being around someone who seemed that strong, and was a mage to boot. “I’m glad to see you’re not perfect!” Orin matched Aoren’s slightly abashed expression with a grin. “I was worried for a tick there.” Still, it did seem that this meeting was in all actuality highly fortuitous. In fact, Orin still had some lurking suspicion that this would all fall apart somehow. Until then, though, he could proceed as if all was well. “Well, I like to make good food so I'm pretty sure we could come to some sort of arrangement here.” In fact, while Orin enjoyed his own creations, he didn't really have much of an appetite, which was probably for the best. It had diminished, though, ever since he lost his bondmate, as if a little bit of the joy had been sucked out of everything. Still, it was probably for the best that Orin didn't eat much. After all, eating his product would probably result in less profits.
Orin was a bit nervous as he continued to speak his opinions on mages and got no response from Aoren even a non-verbal one. This could end poorly. The same chiseled features which had before been relaxed into a kind and welcoming expression before had turned into a stony wariness that betrayed none of Aoren’s thoughts. Orin once again regretted his decision not to bring his blades with him on this outing. This is the last time I am ever caught defenseless. Orin had made that promise before though, and unless he made his body into a weapon as he'd vaguely been hoping to someday do, he couldn't count on always having his blades on him. Besides, the chef wasn't sure whether they would even help him if it came to a fight because the extent of Aoren’s magics were unknown. Maybe Orin should've been more respectful and cautious in his reply.
It was with a great deal of relief that Aoren finally spoke and seemingly agreed with Orin’s words. “Oh. Good. You're...welcome,” the chef replied uncertainly. He wasn't sure exactly what was going through Aoren head at the moment but Orin felt comfortable enough with the assumption that he wouldn't be struck down where he stood. At least, not today. Orin felt the tension drain out of his shoulders, which he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding.
The chef continued to be slightly dumbfounded as Aoren apparently agreed to show Orin some of the more advanced philtering techniques involving magic that so far the chef had merely heard of, but not really learned. Admittedly, part of the reason that Orin was so flustered was the wink that Sky tossed his way, which was not at all flirty but nevertheless caused Orin to blush slightly. “Right yes. I mean, that's fine with me. We probably don't have everything you're used to having but we have well, fire and pots and bottles and oil and herbs and things so hopefully we can make it work. At least, we can do something.” Realizing that the chef had his own half of the bargain to hold up, he quickly added, “Plus, of course I'll make you breakfast. Or show you how to make your own breakfast. Mustn't forget that, don't want you getting pecking.” Orin realized that the stream of words emerging from his mouth was bordering on incomprehensible and shut up, giving his thoughts a tick to catch up with his tongue. “Uh...right. I'll just lead the way then.” And with that Orin started walking away hoping he hadn't just scared his new acquaintance off.
It was nice to see Aoren lose composure at least a little bit. It made Orin feel less awkward himself in terms of their interactions. It was intimidating being around someone who seemed that strong, and was a mage to boot. “I’m glad to see you’re not perfect!” Orin matched Aoren’s slightly abashed expression with a grin. “I was worried for a tick there.” Still, it did seem that this meeting was in all actuality highly fortuitous. In fact, Orin still had some lurking suspicion that this would all fall apart somehow. Until then, though, he could proceed as if all was well. “Well, I like to make good food so I'm pretty sure we could come to some sort of arrangement here.” In fact, while Orin enjoyed his own creations, he didn't really have much of an appetite, which was probably for the best. It had diminished, though, ever since he lost his bondmate, as if a little bit of the joy had been sucked out of everything. Still, it was probably for the best that Orin didn't eat much. After all, eating his product would probably result in less profits.
Orin was a bit nervous as he continued to speak his opinions on mages and got no response from Aoren even a non-verbal one. This could end poorly. The same chiseled features which had before been relaxed into a kind and welcoming expression before had turned into a stony wariness that betrayed none of Aoren’s thoughts. Orin once again regretted his decision not to bring his blades with him on this outing. This is the last time I am ever caught defenseless. Orin had made that promise before though, and unless he made his body into a weapon as he'd vaguely been hoping to someday do, he couldn't count on always having his blades on him. Besides, the chef wasn't sure whether they would even help him if it came to a fight because the extent of Aoren’s magics were unknown. Maybe Orin should've been more respectful and cautious in his reply.
It was with a great deal of relief that Aoren finally spoke and seemingly agreed with Orin’s words. “Oh. Good. You're...welcome,” the chef replied uncertainly. He wasn't sure exactly what was going through Aoren head at the moment but Orin felt comfortable enough with the assumption that he wouldn't be struck down where he stood. At least, not today. Orin felt the tension drain out of his shoulders, which he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding.
The chef continued to be slightly dumbfounded as Aoren apparently agreed to show Orin some of the more advanced philtering techniques involving magic that so far the chef had merely heard of, but not really learned. Admittedly, part of the reason that Orin was so flustered was the wink that Sky tossed his way, which was not at all flirty but nevertheless caused Orin to blush slightly. “Right yes. I mean, that's fine with me. We probably don't have everything you're used to having but we have well, fire and pots and bottles and oil and herbs and things so hopefully we can make it work. At least, we can do something.” Realizing that the chef had his own half of the bargain to hold up, he quickly added, “Plus, of course I'll make you breakfast. Or show you how to make your own breakfast. Mustn't forget that, don't want you getting pecking.” Orin realized that the stream of words emerging from his mouth was bordering on incomprehensible and shut up, giving his thoughts a tick to catch up with his tongue. “Uh...right. I'll just lead the way then.” And with that Orin started walking away hoping he hadn't just scared his new acquaintance off.