Dinner for Two - RPLOG

Participants

• Sveta
• Trace

Date

25/5/477

Log

The transition between spring and summer, always a warm time for Firmament and Sweetwater as a whole. Today Longtail Manor is largely empty, the master and mistress of the house off on their own business, the hirelings safely down below, and everyone else...well, conveniently gone. Which leaves a warm scent of cooking wafting through the courtyard and dining hall, a medley of scents and smells.

A small twitch, and Trace rings the doorbell, wearing a quality-outfit, albeit not the suit he wore to the opera. No need to get too fancy, right? He looks up at the large doors, still marveling slightly at the sheer size of the house as he waits for Sveta, or someone else, to let him in.

Appearing to greet Trace at the door is the large bear hireling, although "security staff" probably sounds better. Recognising the kite, Bruno smiles and opens the gate for Trace, leading him - if he will follow - into the manor proper, past the foyer and into the dining hall, ushering him to a seat before departing with a nod. There's a good view of the still-being-restored courtyard from the dining table, and amidst the statues is Sveta, making a beeline for the table, a dish of something large balanced in her hands.

"You didn't have to dress up, you know," she says. "All I told you to bring was your appetite."

"I... I know, but still," Trace mumbles, looking back to sveta. "He... He didn't bother you again, right? I mean, if he did," he mutters, but not finishing the sentence as he follows behind Sveta and takes his seat, curiously looking as Sveta returns with the food.

"You don't have to worry about me all the time," Sveta replies. Compared to Trace, she's dressed in her usual work clothes, save that she's tied back her hair into a ponytail - probably to keep it from getting in the way while cooking. "It's not good for you. But if he did, I wouldn't be here about to serve you a good meal, right? Now relax and little and enjoy yourself. There's nothing that you don't particularly like, at least from what I gathered last time, so I tried a few things. You deserve a bit of a reward. I don't think anyone will be in today, so it's just the two of us..."

The first course is uncovered - a simple broth-based soup flavoured with stewed eel from the Sweetwater and spring puffballs picked from Eastbank, the latter sliced into thin strips. Steam gently rises from the soup bowls as Sveta uncovers them and sets down a small basket of dry bread, and she waits for Trace to make the first move.

Trace nods and mumbles a little, looking over the food and he collects his utensils a and sets into the food. "I... I suppose that works... Though I... I doubt you couldn't fend him off yourself, though," he mumbles, raising a brow before slipping the spoon into his beak, and looking a little short on words, today.

"It's the thought that counts," Sveta replies. The goshawk still doesn't eat yet, not much, but continues to observe Trace. "And to be honest, it reflected on you more than it did on me. Although I still did enjoy myself." Another pause. "How does it taste?"

"Tastes good," Trace chimes in with a gentle smile on his beak, even as he works down the soup with another, light twitch. Seems it's just a tad too hot, but that doesn't appear to stop the kite, either, by the looks of things. "I... Suppose it did? Still, I can't say I appreciated his, er... Threats towards you," he mumbles with a sligh frown.

Sveta tilts her head from side to side, as if trying to suss out any deeper meaning to Trace's words, then sighs and shrugs, digging into her soup in earnest. "That's...good to hear. I did my best to use local ingredients, as well as a recipe. You probably won't find this in restaurants. Probably. As for that fool...well, Flora's gone and hired some more security. It's about all we can do, really. So, please...this is supposed to be a nice day. Let's not ruin it by digging into that particular unpleasantness."

A small nod, a slight twitch. "Of... Of course," he mumbles after a good, long time of contemplation, smiling faintly and mumbling softly. "Well then... Anything... Anything you want to talk about?" he concludes, before taking another spoonful of soup into his mouth.

"Hmm...give me a moment to think. Excuse me." The first course is finished, and the dishes cleared away for more: It's not long before Sveta reappears from the kitchen with salad greens in a communal bowl: lettuce, tomatoes, shredded onions amongst others, tossed in a light oil which smells faintly of garlic and tumeric. A bit of a contrast. Maybe the heat will lossen his jaw a little.

"You did say you had folks in Sweetwater. Who are they? What do they do? Where do they live? I suppose I'll have to see them someday, should you keep sticking around."

A mumble, a slight twitch. "Uncle Arnold and aunt Vega live a little to the west. Farmers, nothing special... Nice folk, though," Trace mumbles softly, before he looks at the salad and smiles faintly, looking back to Sveta.

"That's..." Sveta looks a little disappointed. Was she expecting more from him, or at least for Trace to give her something to go on? "Nice," she finishes lamely, prodding at her salad with her fork. "Good memories of them?"

Trace nods a tad, taking a bite from his salad and smiling faintly. "A few... Regular travel between cliffside and firmament is... Difficult, for obvious reasons, so we didn't get to visit a lot, and they didn't come over a whole lot either."

"That, and there are no holidays on farms," Sveta replies a little thoughtfully, finishing the last of her salad. "Well, I asked and you answered, so it's your turn to ask me something now. Anything. Within reason, of course."

"That, too," Trace adds with a small nod, tapping his beak lightly in contemplation as he tries to come up with a question of his own, and so far, drawing blanks. He seems a bit lost, until something seems to click, just momentarily. "So... Erm... E-ever thought about starting a family of your own? E-eventually, I mean?" he mumbles, looking away as if he just committed a felony.

Sveta has the grace to look slightly embarrassed at that, not quite looking Trace in the eye. "I'm almost tempted to say, 'have you?' and throw back the question. But I did ask, so..." she hems and haws a little. "Well, some. I'm already nineteen, you know. Going by that, almost half my life is already over...I've never really thought about with whom or the wherefores, you know? But...yes. Someday, preferably before it's too late. A big family."

"There aren't that many birds in Firmament, I think. Not compared to some," she adds after a little while.

Another nod, and Trace looks up at Sveta with a small smile on his face as he takes another bite from his salad. He nods again, before mumbling. "I've... Never really thought about it that much, myself. I mean, sure... With the right lady-bird, I mean..."

"Lady-bird"...hah, that's a cute way of putting it. Come on, then. Let me take care of that for you..." Sveta gathers up the empty dishes, giving Trace a pat on the feathery shoulder as she passes him by, then disappears into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she emerges with a large bowl of sticky salted porridge, although it's a little hard to pinpoint what exactly it's made from - there're at least three different grains in the mix, it would appear. "My mother would make this often," she exlplains off handedly. "Said it puts meat on the bones and keeps the cold out. But you really haven't given it much thought? What would "right" be, then?"

A nod, a small smile. "I... I don't know... I... I guess I'd have to like yo- her," he mutters, growing a bit flush and coughing lightly to try and cover his slip of the tongue up, before trying out the food to keep his beak shut.