As the evening drew nearer to a close once the last curling scent of the charred meat on the fire had either been consumed or taken back to tents to enjoy in silence, Birvor still found himself mucking about the campfire, namely looking for that damned ball of Scratch's. The hound had walked over with a whine and if he were not too keen on the way animals spoke thanks to his lessons with knowing what anything nearby was plotting when it came to preventing accidents with Ren after that incident with the pond of geese in the past...then it was for certain he most likely would have just resigned himself after giving the mutt a few good rubs between the ears. Unfortunately, his amicus animales had yet to wear off, and Scratch was adamant that he help look for the ball he'd lost in the bushes after Lae'zel had tossed the slobbery offering away with a bit too much force.
Having spent a good fifteen minutes rooting about in the high reeds that lined the embankment of the river they'd set up camp by, Birvor eventually emerged and sent the snowy coated hound a look of withering abandon which the dog gave a sharp whine of understanding up towards, his tail sinking between his back legs in defeat. Almost as soon as he had, though, Birvor produced the slobbery rubber ball from behind his back and gave it a few appealing squeaks. "Just messin' with ya, buddy. Go long!"
With a few excited barks and spins in place, Scratch hopped up onto his hind legs for a brief moment to relent with a [You have found it! I am ready for the hunt again ~ ] before the half-orc wound up to give the ball a sharp chuck towards the river. A splash was heard amidst the sounds of the dog's feet scurrying along as he disappeared into the reeds, barking happily away as he charged after his mission of fetching the wayward projectile.
Hands on his hips, Birvor shook his head with a little smile before turning to head back towards the tent Ren and he shared. Well...the one Ren usually stood up at all hours of the night reading tomes and whatever smut Kim had smuggled the sheltered wizard. Usually the half-orc was just content to sleep in the dirt half on top of a bed roll. On his way in to find said bed roll, he paused once he noticed the slight movement of a figure in the confines of their own tent they'd yet to draw shut for privacy hours. It took Birvor a moment of drawing his eyes along the back of the figure, lingering on the long, dark hair undone from its usual braid for him to realize that Az was still up and agitated...judging from the swish in the other's tail that seemed a lot more frustrated than Scratch's wagging delight from earlier.
Not wanting to pry, but finding the other's tent directly in the path on the way to his own, Birvor decided it wouldn't be such a bad idea to poke in. Keeping quiet for the most part until Az noticed him hovering and watching the scene with crossed arms, the false son of the Cragdews offered the other's puzzled expression a sheepish smile as he leaned into his weight to better shift in towards Az's approach. Once in the light of the campfire's crackle, Az's eye - though tilted down and intent on shifting into the lowered hair framing their face, caught his attention. That Volo had really done a number on the guy ... and Birvor had to wonder if he could have prevented that exchange had he not been tuning his lute off near the river at the time of the impromptu lobotomy. Still...it wasn't his place to criticize for a decision wanted and made. Nor was it really in his place to mention the hint of pain he thought he saw in the other's paler, mismatched orb. Not unless invited, of course.
And even still, the sight stirred something in his chest. Inspiration? From where, he could not fathom...only that the sight of one eye sacrificed caused an unusual fluttering in his chest that convinced him he should consider doing the same.
[+1 Inspiration; he who watches.]"There!" roared He-Who-Watches triumphantly, and his voice carried to the ends of the world. "There is where the orcs shall dwell! There they will survive, and multiply, and grow stronger, and a day will come when they cover the world, and they will slay all of your collective peoples! Orcs shall inherit the world you sought to cheat me of!"
Perhaps it was an inspiration that stirred too fiercely in his chest, because before he knew what he was doing, Birvor leaned in- mindful not to knock his tusks against the tiefling's jaw as he pressed half-parted lips on the bone directly below the pale of Az's unseeing eye. He lingered in the action only briefly, though he invited no extra distance between them when he parted to observe his company's fresh flush of color. Uncertainty at what the other might do stained his expression, though quickly warmed upon the insistence that he ought not bother with such a check in on the other's behalf. "Didn' hafta. Wanted to." He reiterated with his own brand of lowered voice, careful to keep poised in front of Az directly so that any onlookers might not see what was occurring mostly for the other's sake. He knew all too well the repercussions of one's social circle when caught in 4k with lips as unorthodox as his anywhere within the vicinity of another's face.
As a light plum shade also began to warm up the half-orc's cheeks, he shifted restlessly in place as Az articulated just how well he wished he could some times. With the inspiration still burning in his chest, he swallowed, a determined look lingering within both hazel irises. Perhaps he'd act on it...if only to see if his persuasion was up to snuff. "Az..." He started, eyes softening to offset the tusky tenseness in his jaw. Trying to rid himself of said tenseness with a little shake of his head Birvor found himself gravitating in towards Az's face - flawed eye and all, though he could not understand why such a unique sight would be considered as such. "Why would I go'an do that?" His voice was breathy and his jaw relaxed as he reached up to give Az's face a resting place to lean their cheek into should he need it.
"I think highly of nothing much these days. But..." The usual gruff roil of his voice was no where to be heard as it trembled just barely around "But...I think highly of you-"
[Roll 1d20: 5 out of 20]
[Failure!]
Just as soon as he'd uttered his heartfelt sentiment, a series of barks erupted from the reeds again as Scratch bound out with the ball between his jaws. With a furious wriggle in the name of having to retrieve his ball from within the river itself, it took the dog little time of shaking his fur out (river mud and all) onto the two (though mostly on Birvor's back where the mutt had approached.)
Urgh...of course that would fucking happen. Having moved mid-spray to stand more in front of Az as a sort of splash-block shield, he gave his company a rather pitiable expression. "Argh- sorry. I was riling'im up earlier-" Great...he could be riled up with the dog together now. Never mind he would have 'liked' the invitation just swell if he suddenly wasn't a mess that Az probably didn't want trekked through their tent.
