Like Two Birds of a Feather [Winter Berkut & Ares]
@nordionknight sent: ❄️
“You would have me do what?”
“We haven’t any vacancies. If you ain’t gonna brave the storm to the next town, it’s the only option I can give ya.”
Berkut threw a glance over his shoulder, across the crowded, noisy tavern to the half-covered windows lining the front of the tiny inn. For a moment, he considered taking his horse another few hours to the next village, confident he could outspeed the storm until the door burst open and he flinched against the frigid, biting wind that came flooding in. Two men sitting near the entrance scrambled to fight it shut and wedge a flimsy chair beneath its handle, but still the eerie howling continued from the other side. The storm was already here, it seemed, and Berkut turned back to the innkeep, resigned, but no less irate.
“I will not share a room with this… rabble,“ he continued, as if he had not made his status clear enough. The innkeep only regarded him with the weary look of a man who had already handled the tempers of two dozen other self-proclaimed nobles hoping to be pampered, and had not a dash of sympathy left to give.
“I don’t care what lord or king or god you are - you’ll sleep where I tell ya or you’ll make yer bed in the snow. Choice’s yours.”
Berkut narrowed his eyes and gave the man his darkest glower, but when the innkeep didn’t so much as blink, he wordlessly dropped his coin on the countertop and turned to fight his way through the crowd. And directly into the shoulder of…
“You’re that man from Augustria,” he said accusingly, taking a startled step back. His gaze dropped toward the mercenary’s feet, and then back up again, slow and judgmental.
“You’re alive.”
