Davrin showing up to the kitchen for dinner one evening with a hearty gold hoop hanging from one ear (with impressive stamped detailing that seems impossibly tiny). A gift, he shrugs, smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
(From Emmrich, he fails to mention, but catches how the man in question smiles dotingly at him from across the way.)
And then counterpoint: Emmrich's suddenly got a rather obvious, but small addition amongst his grave gold in a very-evidently-not-gold glass bead bracelet. Beautiful. Pale and delicate and elven made. A gift, he sighs. Isn't it lovely? Davrin got it for me; he's got remarkably good taste, though he'll claim otherwise.
(Davrin rolls his eyes, but he's very pleased with himself)













