antivanleather | Fourth Step - back from that ledge my friend, you could cut ties with all the lies that [action]

[He'd been living in...a state of frustration the past month. Of denial. But with a week and some spent in the wilderness in tail end of winter Zevran sought to reconnect with the cold hollow that the Crows instilled in him at an early age, one that time with the Warden and several months here had worn away. Filled with food and restful sleep and pleasurable company. With sentiment. It was not something he could afford, that sentiment, that desire for companionship beyond the odd body in his bed or verbal spar. To want comrades was something a Crow did not do, and as much as he wasn't pleased by the guild wanting him dead back home he was still very much one of them. Old habits died hard after all.

Hunting, tracking, setting a spartan camp and keeping mobile- avoiding all others that might have been hunting, forsaking the company of his fellow villagers did little more than weigh upon the elf and leave him far too much time to think over the events leading up to and just after that odd valentine's shift. How he'd handled it, or rather hadn't. The conversation he'd had with Isaac just before leaving, or rather the argument. The time between then and now did little to sooth the ire it'd caused. He'd lost something there.

He didn't know he cared enough to get it back.]

[Days away and he'd intended to remain so for awhile longer but the fall of snow urges him back to the village. Bundled along with his camping gear on his back are furs that need to be trimmed and roots, dried meat and bundles of flesh from what animals he'd trapped and butchered while hunting. It's a fairly sizable stash of hunting loot if he did say so himself, and he's far too much to keep to himself. Perhaps after he cleans up he'll offer the finished furs or bits of wrapped meat to his neighbors, or any that stop him along his path. He waves his way in from the south, past the battle dome and up through the plaza to stop in the grocery store for a few vegetables, perhaps a bottle of wine to go with the meat he's still carrying, and then he makes his way back to community house 7.

The normally boisterous and cheerful elf is weary and quiet, without any quick smile or laugh to crack at those he passes. His leathers are grubby from time in the woods, his boots scuffed, his hair a loosely braided mess. He'll make conversation if someone engages him, and he will be polite enough, perhaps even offer a cutlet of venison or dirty joke if the company is pleasant.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Right! Right, sorry.

[He goes to grab the rice and measures out enough for the two of them.]

Enough?

Mmm. Usually Jack and Eugene have had the sense to eat by now so this will be plenty for the both of us. We can always prepare more if they smell the wondrous things and make their way over.

[Water is added to the pot and set to boil for the rice, and soon a meal shall be upon them. Marvelous!]

I does smell pretty wondrous, I have to say. And yeah, they actually do things like sleep at reasonable hours and eat actual food.

For the most part. There is the odd run in the middle of the night for food or wheedling pout made in the effort to con me into making them drinking chocolate at midnight. Though I must say I do not mind it as much as I could.

Heh, well, can't really blame them of all people for wanting to indulge in a few home comforts now and then.

They make faces that are not entirely unlike young hounds or cats. It makes it difficult to tell them to go back to sleep. Grown men should not be able to make such faces.

[That makes him laugh, actually, unable to get the image out of his head.]

Jack does do pretty exceptional puppy dog eyes, I have to agree. I mean, they say there's no magic in their world, but that has to be a power on it's own.

There is some manner of magic in them to make me crawl out of bed at an ungodly hour, in the cold, to make him a drink.

Wow, that's dedication right there. Let's hope he chooses never to use his power for evil.

Making me walk around in the cold in the middle of the night is evil enough.

That is pretty evil, true. He's got you wrapped 'round his little finger.

...he does not.

[Max raises an eyebrow at that. Really Zevran?]

If you really were immune, you'd just pretend to be asleep. Or lock the door.

...

[Zev chews on his bottom lip for a moment.]

But then he whines at me.

[And you're trying to tell Max that Jack hasn't got you trained.]

Right. So you give him exactly what he wants every time. Totally not wrapped around his little finger. Not one bit.

Usually I'm wrapped around something about two feet lower and a good deal thicker.

[It's a really good thing that Max wasn't drinking anything because he would have choked. nearly does anyway.]

So uh... you and him and... Eugene? You have a thing?

We all have a thing of our own, yes, it is part of what makes us male. You have one as well, but if you'd like me to check I would be more than happy to do so.

[Max gives him a sardonic look.]

Oh, very funny, smartarse.

And my thing will be staying in my pants for now, thanks.

'For now' you say, so there is a possibility I might have some hands on experience with it in the future?

Well, I'm not immune to certain charms but I'm pretty sure you'd be more interested in the boys across the hallway so...

It's a fluid, open thing that we have. I spend more time in their bed asleep as of late than I do engaging them in sultry, sweaty, sordid activities.

Gotta say, sharing a bed with someone like that is pretty nice.

It is warm, which is my first concern in this weather. I was not made for the colder climates.

[He doesn't particularly believe that's the first concern here, but he'll keep his mouth shut.]

I guess that is an advantage. I just kinda like the company honestly. There's something nice about having a person to wake up to.

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