#eauregard001.

[irresurrection]

@eauregard.

  She’s got the itch again. Which wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, thanksforyourkeensenseofdirectionFjord. Desperate times, desperate measures --- but she’s not really gonna steal from Beau, just because she’s rummaging through her belongings now. Borrowing! Just borrowing. She can give the stuff back any time. Nobody will even notice. Probably.

  Except then, she finds a very thin knife --- a razor, really --- and says, very much out loud,   “The fuck is this for?”

[thrownsoul]

@eauregard.

cont.

  Alice drinks like a firbolg --- that is, very little, but appreciating alcohol’s social merits. She’ll hold onto her tankard through the night without hardly lifting it for a sip. She likes talking to Beau, who never minces words, because Alice also appreciates honesty.

  Maybe there’s such a thing as too much honesty, though.

     “Well, everyone is afraid of something,”   she finally murmurs. Alice is as soft-spoken, as a general rule, as Beau is brash; there’s nothing unusual about thoughtful silences in her conversations. But her gaze lowers, and even though she laughs a little, the flicker in her dark eyes is very serious.   “But I would hope not.”

     Another pause.   “My point stands, anyway. It’s not owlbears.”