Perhaps other people would think it's awkward. Though they were allies in the arena exercise, there was still an undeniable tension between the two throughout it, fueled by something personal on Andrei's side so it would seem all because of the tome that Joachim had been assigned. But where others might think it just an utter lack of chemistry, Joachim wanted to look past that and acknowledge the heart of the matter of what happened back then.
A heart he's acknowledging now as he goes up to the man.
“Today's the winter festival. I'd like to give you something for it to celebrate,” Joachim makes his purpose very clear from the get-go, hoping to inject some festive cheer. “Here you are.”
With that, Joachim presents a neatly wrapped gift box for the man to take.
“It's nothing special, but they're a pair of work gloves I usually make for myself,” he takes care to explain in case the man might be wary of the contents without being told of them first. “They're really good for manual labor and anything tough! And keeping the chill out too. Winters back home get pretty rough.
“I don't know what kind of things you do, but in the arena, you seemed pretty focused on getting a job done. We couldn't have done as well as we did without you,” he admits. “So if I can help you even a little with something outside of the arena... well, I'd be pretty happy.”
It is better, Father had said in a time long past, for an archer to feel the string beneath his fingers. It meant more control, and thus more stability in the release. Accuracy begets strength, and for an heir without the major blood of that Father had, that Lady Sister had, any ounce of strength must be kept in careful guard.
The sting of the released string against bare skin is nothing compared to the satisfaction of an arrow hitting its target.
Andrei narrows his eyes as the wolf-eared man approaches him, the question they had left their previous exchange on barely answered and certainly not to his satisfaction. That sort of unnatural magical power is nothing short of dangerous, and if Joachim intended him harm, he would have to be prepared at any moment.
Instead of an exchange of words or even an attack he had been somewhat suspecting, though, all the other man holds out is a festive, packaged box.
Feeling somewhat wrong-footed, he listens to the other's explanation, his own mind drifting to a dead man's words from long ago. Without unwrapping the box, he looks back up at Joachim.
"I am an archer. I do not typically use gloves on the battlefield, but…"
Joachim is as clueless to Andrei and his past as he is to anything in Jugdral, as his stint with the Holy Forseti had proved. Even so, at every turn, the man had only tried to render aid, and it is almost enough to believe his words without any suspicion of treachery.
If nothing else, it would be unwise to antagonize someone with that level of magic, even when he is attempting to extend a hand of peace. Andrei inclines his head.
"You have my gratitude nonetheless."
He looks down at the box. That arena had not utilized anything in his normal skillset, but bows are not the only weapon he trains with these days. Perhaps there may be use for these yet.
