The Snowbird Tavern (Einar & Joseph)

[Avelithe]

Einar reveled in his fortunes. While standing in the corner of the snowing market square, he admired the iron barbed arrowheads he could not produce himself, a miniature painting of a nude lady, an old bone flute that he could not play but found lovely, and a beautifully crafted studded leather belt. Einar traded a batch of his deerskin pelts for all of these. The generous items was practically a steal, but the trader looked eager for the perfectly cut hide Einar had skinned himself.

He placed his precious items in his pack, and walked across the square to the Snowbird Tavern. It had a painted sign of a white bird with a sprig of hops in its beak, promising both natives and travelers alike that delightfully frothy beer was always on the menu. The tender scent of spiced pig teased and tantalized the ol' sniffer, too.

The cold always had a way of bringing people closer together, and that is what the tavern was built for. Snowbird was the coziest and happiest place in this corner of the settlement, spearheaded by a plump, short, incredibly busty cougar of a woman that many called Lady Imp, and perhaps that is exactly what she was, in both looks and behavior. Whatever her species, she neither confirmed or denied what she was, but she had the respect of the people all the same. After all, the fireplace was always lit, the tavern alive with music and dance, and tummies that never stayed empty for long. Because business was so good, the price was right. The happiest place indeed!

Einar was one of the few that called the Snowbird's owner 'Little Bird'. It is what he greeted her with in his baritone as he entered, which earned him a cheeky wink from behind the bar. The friendly gesture was some times followed up with one free beer. It was inevitable—Einar preferred a low profile, but the call to meat and drink gained him a little notoriety. It was no big deal, really. He made the effort to stop in once a week after a good trade. Make acquaintances. Maybe even friends.

Unfortunately, hermits have a way of trailing rumors these days. Even though he gained some favor with Lady Imp, the same couldn't be said by the way some of the patrons looked around at Einar with a scowl. That's just the way it was with loners. It was always a tough way to live, especially when the nature of the wolf longed for a pack.

At least he had at least one guaranteed friendly face to look forward to that wasn't just the Lady's.

[DragonSong]

Joseph was not in town often, but when he was, he found himself gravitating to the tavern. It was just...so very full of life. Life as he was only just beginning to comprehend it, full of light and laughter and food and drink and sometimes fights or flirting or any number of painfully mortal minutia that he found endlessly fascinating.

He'd found his usual corner seat blissfully unoccupied upon entry roughly an hour earlier, and though he had yet to order anything to eat, a steady consumption of mead had kept the tavern's mistress from glaring at him too hard for taking up the space. Of course, the alcohol did not affect him easily, so he had collected a mildly impressive number of emptied flagons without seeming much the worse for wear--a fact that certainly earned him a few looks from the Snowbird's clientele, though the regulars who recognized him were used to a few...oddities.

He noticed Einar enter in the way the other regular patrons did, as a movement out of the corner of his eye that drew his full attention when he had actually processed the sight. Joseph didn't exactly have many friends, but the few people who were willing to humor his curiosity and quirks certainly earned his respect and appreciation. He offered a nod and a smile for the hunter, indicating the empty chair at his table. It was an invitation, but one offered with no pressured expectation of acceptance--he'd shared a drink or two with Einar before, and was happy to do so again, though he didn't want the hunter to feel shackled to the acquaintance.

[Avelithe]

Joseph was hardly a figure missed. Even in a crowded tavern full of boisterous patrons of all shapes and sizes, Joseph's unique scent made the inner canine wag his tail, as embarrassing as it is to admit. Do not be so quick to judge—this is just how it is for Einar before greeting a familiar face. It made him privately thankful that he favored his human shape more often than not. Time spent in one form or the other often meant that certain habits drifted to the surface.

At any rate, the human form was just practical and... well, better suited to pragmatically navigate civilization. Imagine waltzing in the Snowbird as a mutt—he'd be chased out with Lady Imp hot on his trail, thrashing her broom often spared for garbage and pests.

Einar quickly approached Joseph's corner, untangling himself from a heavy fur cloak. The smile came easily as it always did in good company. No shackles required; Einar looked eager to get started. He was in a good mood, and why shouldn't he be? Not even the scowls could dampen his mood.

"Well met, Joseph!" he said jovially, perfectly emulating the current atmosphere. It was a little unusual; Einar commonly greeted with mild cheer and restraint.

"Little Bird, you lovely creature! How about it?" He called out to the owner with his hands clapped together.

Lady Imp had already arrived with two huge mugs, to which was placed carelessly on the table. "Oh, go on, dear. If I had a coin for every time a fella called me lovely, I would hire a giant to strap me tavern on his back and go off to build a huge manse out in Hyoite. Hello, love." She waggled her thick fingers over at Joseph. Perhaps she was lovely in her youth, but Lady Imp certainly had a charm about her in her later years that made her quite wonderful.

"Only Hyoite? How little your imagination takes you, sweet Bird. Why not go beyond the ocean and farther still?"

"Perhaps in me youth. 'Nuff of that; why do ya waddle in smellin' like wet dog?"

"My little feathered fiend." Einar attempted his best grin, keen to change the subject. "Perhaps a portion of a pig for this fellow and myself... my treat," he insisted to Joseph as he tossed his cloak on a chair.

The tavern owner inhaled sharply like a cat whose tail got stepped on. "How many times do I hafta tell ya! Cloaks get hung by the door!"

"Right." Einar scratched the back of his head sheepishly, picking his cloak up and waving it in front of Lady Imp. "If you don't mind...?"

"Ugh! I am not yer mum!" She left in a huff, leaving Einar to blush exceedingly in Joseph's direction.

"Apologies, fellow. It is a rare opportunity to get under the Lady's skin."

[DragonSong]

Joseph watched the exchange he with a small smile, one that turned into a quiet chuckle when Einar addressed him directly.

"No apology needed. I believe I've learned that Lady Imp feeds on banter with her patrons as much as her wine." Possibly that had something to do with the slightest bit of demonic heritage he could sense in her—but that really wasn't his business. Not anymore, at least.

"How have you been, my friend?" he asked, nodding to one of the untouched drinks on the table in invitation.

[Avelithe]

Einar grinned wide. "You're not wrong!" He grasped the handle of his beer at Joseph's invitation. "Cheers." He lifted his mug to Joseph, and then brought it to his lips. The beer never failed to taste so delicious. It certainly brought a warmth to his skin and bones.

"I am well! Found a man eager for some deerskin, so I traded some for these, look."

And so Einar brought his pack atop the table, which earned him a scowl from Lady Imp, who never approved of bad manners. "Oh, not this one." He hastily shoved the painting of the nude lady back in. "But this flute, look at it, so finely crafted." He extended it to Joseph, intending for him to take it. "I expect these are not made by human hands. Do you have a guess as to whom might have created such an intriguing piece?" He pointed at the intricate designs carved into the bone. "And look, it is a little aged. Cared for, but no doubt an antique. I wonder if it still plays a sweet note or two."

[DragonSong]

Joseph couldn't help smiling into his cup as Einar quickly hid his illicit purchase. Humans. Such charming, silly things, sometimes. He did observe the flute with some interest when Einar produced it, then with sudden intensity.

"Beautiful," he agreed softly, nodding, as he watched the hunter's fingers trace the design. "And yes, I think you're right, not of human make. Or at least not entirely. See that?" He pointed to a particular series of curves that followed roughly half the length of the instrument. "I haven't seen the like in--that is, I believe it's a fae design. But it isn't carved the way the folk would, sung directly into the bone. Likely this piece was made by a demifae, or a human with a faerie's assistance. May I?"

He glanced up at Einar curiously, one hand extended toward the flute, but not touching it.

[Avelithe]

Hey now, Joseph, it gets lonely on the empty tundra! At least he had the decency to try and keep his shame in check; he knew he wouldn't hear the last of it if the tavern's owner saw it. Or Joseph, for that matter, but it was a little late for that. Oh, well.

Einar leaned in, gawking at the curious instrument with Joseph. "I knew it," he breathed excitedly. "What an excellent find." He was so thrilled that he downed his beer in one go, and raised it. "Another, good lady?" he called, only for the old imp to scoff and snatch the empty mug away.

Einar did not bother to wait for his second round. Joseph made a request, one that he could not ignore.

"Of course," he told him, pushing the flute eagerly on his friend.

One older gentleman that had been watching out of mild interest hopped down from his stool and crossed over to look at Joseph. He had one brilliant blue eye, and a leather eyepatch on the other. To call him human was questionable at best, for he carried a strange aura, but it was not unfriendly. In fact, he gave Joseph a small smile.

"A pretty lil thing, that is," he said. "I am Arne, and that there's my band. Luke, Tufty, Gorm, and Witch." He gestured to a small group of seemingly older men and lady that waved towards them. "Do you play, lad?" He nodded down at the flute, then looked at Joseph amiably.

Lady Imp came waddling in with a tray of beer, giving Einar and Joseph both a fresh mug. She rolled her eyes at the band. "Shoo, off with ya, quit harassin' my customers! If you lot would do less talking and more playing, we might liven the place up a little. I ain't payin' ya to sit 'round your backsides all day."

[DragonSong]

Joseph took the flute carefully, so lightly it seemed he was worried he would break it. Before he could do much more than turn it over in his hands though, the group of musicians had approached their table and he found himself once more distracted.

Interesting. Normally he didn't talk to so many people at once, even in the tavern.

"Oh, they're no bother, I assure you," you told the tavern keeper with a gentle smile, before answering Arne. "I have played before, but it has been some time."

Carefully, he brought the flute to his mouth and blew. A single note whistled out, cheerful and surprisingly clear. He tried another, then a few more. He was a skilled enough flutist, in the way he was skilled at anything: many, many years of practice. He didn't think he had much natural talent for music, but he did enjoy it, and had spent enough time on it in his rather long existence to get reasonably proficient.

He put the flute down after a few more experimental notes, passing it back to Einar with a small smile. "I imagine in the hands of a true master, this instrument would shine." He chuckled a bit to himself. "Literally. There's a light glyph etched near the mouthpiece."

[Avelithe]

Einar shared Joseph's thoughts. The attention their table garnered gave the hermit a blush; he was not used to it. Not that he disliked it, mind; it felt like a nice change of pace to receive positive attention. It made the wolf inside happy. Yes—today is a good day.

Meanwhile, Lady Imp harrumphed and toddled away, leaving Arne to it. The band's leader looked down sheepishly at Joseph, hands resting his hips. "Well, let us hear it then." When he heard the notes, he looked pleased.

"Wow, not bad at all," Einar piped up. "It does have a sweet sound to it—" He was going to say more as he stretched out his hand to take the flute.

"Not bad, yes, but I want to hear more! Play us a song, lad!"

Arne's bandmates all began to chant. "Song, song, song, play us a song!"

Einar looked bewildered, and leaned over to his friend. "You don't have to," he said hastily, offering him an awkward grin. "If you're not comfortable, that is. At any rate, I think you're meant to keep this flute. I don't play." He pushed the flute back to Joseph. "It's yours."

[DragonSong]

"Oh, I couldn't do that," Joseph said quickly, trying to push the flute back into Einar's hands. He seemed genuinely not to notice much that Arne and his companions were still urging him to play. "It's yours, bartered for fairly. I cannot simply take it."

He did finally deign to give the others a nod and a smiled. "Thank you for your appreciation, but truly, I'm no musician."

[Avelithe]

Einar gave Arne and his band a quick look: enough. It was all that was needed; Arne was not the kind of person to push. The band leader gave Joseph a little smile, trying to hide his disappointment. "If you change your mind..." He left, grimacing under Lady Imp's wrathful glare. Soon, the band joined together in their corner, and began playing a jovial tune.

Looking back at his table companion, Einar took the flute up in his hands and rolled it between his fingers. "Yes, but I do not have a single creative bone in my body, and little interest in learning. I got it, because it is a lovely little thing, but would rot away in some private crate. Call it a gift—a token of appreciation, if you will, for occasionally showing up to bear my company. At least, then, it will bear more meaning." He put it back on the table, but the way Einar placed it delicately between them meant that it was going to be the final time he touches it.

[DragonSong]

"A gift?" Joseph blinked, looking genuinely taken aback for a moment. "I--thank you."

Slowly, he picked the flute back up, turning it over in his hands a few times. A small, bemused smile tugged at the edges of his mouth. "I don't believe I've ever been given a gift before," he noted quietly, sounding somewhere between bemused and touched.

Carefully, he tucked the instrument away in his pack and gave Einar a nod and another heartfelt, "Thank you." Smile turning a little crooked, he added, "Though it is hardly a great sacrifice on my part to share your company."

[Avelithe]

Einar was absolutely baffled to hear that. Never had a gift before? He was several things at once: pleased, awkward, embarrassed, and relieved.

"That is... good! I mean to say—-I am glad that it brought a smile to your face."

Einar grimaced inwardly. He was sure it sounded silly coming out of his mouth. Besides, he did not know Joseph well enough; was the gift even appropriate? Why was he overthinking this? Why did he feel so awkward all of a sudden?

More than likely it was the alcohol. It made people do and say ridiculous things. Or perhaps his time left alone for extended periods gave him imposter syndrome; he did not think he was deserving of friends. Was that even true? What the hell? What was with the influx of intrusive thoughts all of a sudden?

He decided to bring up something else while he was not quite at the cusp of full-blown inebriation.

"Tell me what you've been up to."

At least he was genuinely interested in knowing. Now that the tavern has calmed a bit over the excitement with the flute, Einar was eager to talk about Joseph's life.

[DragonSong]

Joseph smiled at him, then chuckled quietly when Einar grimaced. He reached out to grasp the man's shoulder gently. "I appreciate it," he said sincerely. "Thank you."

Sitting back, he reached for his drink and took a long, slow sip as Einar asked his question. What had he been up to? Hmmm...

"Not all that much, truly," he answered with another soft laugh. "Continuing my studies, I suppose." Most people knew Joseph as a slightly eccentric scholar--just what he was "studying" was something of a topic of gossip among the town locals, but no one could ever seem to get a straight answer out of him. "Recently, I—"

He suddenly stopped, eyes going wide, as a voice he hadn't heard in years sang softly in the back of his mind. His back went ramrod straight, every inch of his body trembling with tension.

"I—"

He was so startled that he didn't think to speak silently, words pouring out in a soft, rushed mumble as his eyes flickered back and forth, as though reading something written in the air.

"I was not—no, of course, but—yes. Yes. I understand. Yes. Of course..."

[Avelithe]

Joseph took the gesture in a sincere manner that eased Einar's worry and overthinking. The infectious joy the tavern had worked its way back into him again, warming him like a good ale.

"You've got the determination and dedication for books," he observed blithely. "I've not the patience, but I could listen to the stories told by others for ages." Say he's ADHD without saying he's ADHD.

"Recently...?"

Einar looked intently at Joseph, but leaned back at the sudden shift in his friend.

"Joseph?"

Now—Einar knew better than most that this world is mysterious, full of magic and wild and wonder. He was living proof of that magic, and in a sense, so was Joseph, even if Einar did not fully understand it. In fact, Joseph did not know what Joseph was. Not human, obviously. Of the two, perhaps Einar could pass for human... until he was presented with food, of course, and then he was little more than an animal.

"Joseph... Joseph!"

Despite everything, it was still odd to see your drinking buddy's eyes flicker to and fro as if possessed by some demon, and talking to some force Einar could not see. This was so alarming that Einar was already up. Not wanting to cause a big fuss in the tavern, he discretely took Joseph by the shoulder, and attempted to give him a little shake.

[DragonSong]

"I--what?" Joseph suddenly seemed to snap back to himself, looking at Einar with wide eyes and blinking rapidly. Then he was on his feet, still trembling lightly as he gripped the back of his chair. "I--forgive me, that--I was--I have to go," he said in a rush, sounding more than a little hunted.

A few patrons at nearby tables were casting curious looks in their direction, but he didn't seem to notice. He looked positively harried, and for a moment seemed so disoriented as to not remember where the tavern entrance was.

"I'm sorry, my friend," he murmured to Einar, not quite meeting his eyes. "I...perhaps I am unwell. I didn't... Forgive me."

It seemed to be the only coherent thought he could form: Forgive me.

[Avelithe]

Einar could only stare in complete bewilderment. The inner peace be felt had disappeared, taken over by sheer instinct to protect this man from harm. That was the wolf way—-look after your pack.

"Let's go," he murmured, avoiding stares, offering an arm for Joseph to lean on just in case. Joseph did not seem disoriented, but he did seem troubled. If he was troubled, so was Einar.

"Lady Imp... on my tab, if you will."

The tavern's owner waved a hand in the midst of attempting to distract her patrons with a hilarious story. "Never you mind, go," she hissed. "Off with ya, now."

Einar gave the Lady a smile of gratitude before attempting to usher Joseph out of there.

"You got some explaining to do, my friend."

The cold hit them as he exited out of the tavern, and assuming Joseph was still with him, asked, "What was that?"

[DragonSong]

Joseph took the offered arm, though even he wasn't sure if he really needed it or not. He felt suddenly unsure of everything, as it happened.

"I..." He looked at Einar, still a little wide-eyed, then sighed. "I know," he murmured. "I'm sorry, it...it's complicated. And I--I need to pack. I will be...traveling, soon. Perhaps--"

He hesitated. He shouldn't. He knew he shouldn't. This wasn't Einar's problem--Einar, who clearly had secrets of his own, but who was really just trying to live his life, one of the hundreds of thousands of mortals doing so that he had watched and--he could admit--envied for so long.

But this... It wasn't just unexpected, it was frightening. He was frightened.

...That was new.

Not knowing if it was the right thing to do, or even a good idea, he murmured, "Would you...walk me home? I can explain better there..."

[Avelithe]

"I'd be delighted." Einar stood close without smiling, determined now to get Joseph to where he needed to be. He kept a wary eye on him, admittedly a little more than concerned the farther they took their steps. There were forces in this world beyond Einar's understanding, even if he was aware of it hanging over like a dark cloud.

"Where do you live? If it's far, perhaps my hut would suffice? It's out of the way of prying eyes and ears, if you are concerned for the wayward interloper..."

Einar wondered if it might be too forward an ask, and his hut was not exactly in the best state for company... Alas. It was too late to rescind his request.

"Uh—well. If it makes you feel better, Lady Imp is one to never ask questions unless her precious tavern is at risk."

It was his lame attempt to bring light to the situation, but Einar wasn't sure if he was helping. He frowned.

"The difference between her and I, is that I have a lot of questions. But I will not bombard you with them. That is the wol—er—my promise. I am not as nosy as I look."

The fact of the matter is, Einar happens to be extremely nosy to a fault, but out of respect for his friend, he knew he needed to try his best.

[DragonSong]

"I-I do appreciate the offer," Joseph replied quietly, "but I am afraid it is not...conventional eavesdropping which worries me presently." He tried to smile at Einar, the expression just a hair removed from his usual placid contentment. "And I could not begrudge you your questions, after all that. But yes, if you could wait until we are in a more opportune position for me a see them... I will do my best to explain."

His home was at the edge of town, set just far enough away from the next closest cluster of houses that someone would have to be making a deliberate decision to come visit him; it wasn't exactly in "popping by" range, but it wasn't completely isolated either.

It was a simply little house, just the one room, main occupied by a hearth, a bed, and armchair, and as many shelves of books as he could reasonably fit into the space—and some that had taken just a bit of angelic magic to make fit.

Sighing, Joseph sank down onto the edge of his bed, staring vacantly out his tiny window for so long that it began to seem he had entirely forgotten the presence of the man who had escorted him home.

Then he asked, quite suddenly, "Are you faithful, Einar? That is—do you have gods you pray to?"