Berrod opened his mouth to speak, but Crofte's accent was enough of a kick to his face for him to audibly snap it shut again. His bright greens narrowed into a bewildered squint, but with gorm-like efficiency the matter was quickly discarded. Of greater relevance was the fact that she had addressed him using a title -again-, like if he was some armored Prancer with holy feathers up his arse.
"Jus' Berrod, yea," he corrected gently, "An' good ta meet ya, fella. Uh-- I don't think year drunk." It was a lie, but so what, he lied to women all the time. Again he adjusted the bundle, doing his best to compress it as much as possible.Â
"You uh, you wantin' any company over there? Me an' this guy can come an' siddown. It's a waste ta drink alone."
"Jus' Berrod, yea," he corrected gently, "An' good ta meet ya, fella. Uh-- I don't think year drunk." It was a lie, but so what, he lied to women all the time. Again he adjusted the bundle, doing his best to compress it as much as possible.Â
"You uh, you wantin' any company over there? Me an' this guy can come an' siddown. It's a waste ta drink alone."
![[Image: tumblr_ojgu7zoaag1robwlio1_540.png]](https://68.media.tumblr.com/80be4033cdf57fb6268473ef9ce37db6/tumblr_ojgu7zoaag1robwlio1_540.png)
