kriegerherzz:
Rainer digs the second knuckle of his index finger into the corner of his eye, like that might ease his headache. It does very little to help, just kind of makes his eye water. He needs something greasy as hell to eat or he will surely die.
“I could always lop you off at the knee if you feel like being shorter,” he rasps, chuckling at his own joke and slumping further into his chair for a moment. “The doorways are a bit low, here– this building was put together in 1877 and has not, well. People were far shorter then. And you are quite tall, dear.”
An amused snort escapes her. “ I’ll pass on that offer, thank you. Contrary to popular belief, I actually do enjoy towering over people and striking fear into their hearts. It usually means they’ll leave me alone. ” She then plops a bag on top of the table, pulling out something wrapped in tinfoil, which she then unwraps to reveal a container of Khorkhog; some cooked lamb along with carrots, onions, and potatoes. Luckily for Rainer, it happened to be quite greasy. “ Do you want some? ”
