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Post by Conway on Sept 28, 2011 23:51:15 GMT -5
"Hmm."
Not that he wants to end the conversation, but D'nel does need to keep that arm taken care of, it probably hurts again by now.
He has a feeling it won't be all that hard to convince D'nel to share his company again anyway, this is more important.
"I think...that's probably a very good idea. It would be stupid at this point to loose the arm to a silly infection, and" he smiled."no one wants to be hunted down by healers."
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Post by gryfeathr on Sept 28, 2011 23:56:58 GMT -5
D'nel makes a face at the prospect and flops, ostensibly in immitation of what it felt like to be harrassed, his upper body on top of the table. His arms stretched out, lanky, and the little green squawked and lept into the air with a wing-beat.
"Anything but that," he declared, hair all flopped forward into his face.
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Post by Conway on Sept 29, 2011 0:05:16 GMT -5
T'rey laughed and his little blue was at attention when green made a move.
" Go on then, they'll be so proud if you show up all on your own, won't they?"
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Post by gryfeathr on Sept 29, 2011 0:18:40 GMT -5
Pleased that T'rey truly was back into good spirits, D'nel pushed himself gingerly back upright and offered him a flash of bright smile. "Surprised, maybe! They see enough of me though when I help out." He stretched his legs out under the table with a grunt, twisting to swing himself up to his feet. He paused, looking back a T'rey while he lifted his good arm's fist. His green, chittering, still obliged by lightly landing on it, and he passed her to his shoulder. "Fly strong, T'rey."
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Post by Conway on Sept 29, 2011 0:23:06 GMT -5
T'rey stayed seated, he was going to need a little time to himself. But he smiled back and D'nel and gave an offhand salute. " Clear skies, blue rider."
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Post by gryfeathr on Sept 29, 2011 0:30:00 GMT -5
D'nel had been caught a little off guard by the combination of smile, salute, and traditional well wishing. The edge of his smile tucked in a little, and he returned the salute gently. "Fair winds."
And then he was weaving through the tables to the doorway, moving to lead with his good shoulder in case he ran into anything. The last thing he wanted was an unwelcome jolt.
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