Disclaimer: The characters are mine.
Summary: It's easy to animate a corpse, resurrecting a soul is much trickier.
Author's Note: A collection of drabbles. Nothing fancy.
The inn is filled to the seams with patrons, dredging in from the damp drizzle and seeking the warmth of a stoked hearth and good cheer. Already tables are filled with groups of travellers, friends who have long since gathered together around a mug of mead and a full plate. The windows are steamed up and Besa gratefully waves at the rosy-cheeked innkeeper. Making her way through the throng she sits herself down at mostly empty table in the farside of the inn, next to the window. A Draenei female sits alone, staring out of the fog covered glass.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" the Paladin asks cheerily, removing her helmet. The other guest turns and stares at her and all the warmth of the room evaporates.
"It is not my table." the Death Knight says finally and spears a potato with a fork and eats it without enthusiasm. Taking her reply for a Yes, please take a seat, Besa flags down a serving girl and snags a mug of dark beer. The innkeeper arrives shortly thereafter with a full plate and a warm grin. The Death Knight is ignored and something in the back of the Paladin's mind thinks that it is simply not fair at that action.
"How long have you been in the city?" Besa asks, spearing her own potato and revelling in it's fluffy inside.
"Since I delivered the letter."
"So, how long?" Besa presses again. The female gives her a steady stare.
"Yesterday, midmorning."
"Now string that together in a full sentence for me." the human insisted.
"Why?"
"Because in order to have a amicable relationship, one must converse. Usually this involves speaking with sentences." Besa replies through a mouthful of asparagus. The Draenei sips her drink, a fine red wine.
"I do not need a friend." she says coldly. Besa ignores the frost on the windowpane and smiles a grin of bared teeth.
"That is truly unfortunate because now you have one. I suggest talking in full sentences and introducing yourself to appease me," she states, stabbing her fork in the air for emphasis. The two lock eyes and Besa feels the crackle of Light at her fingertips and knows that while it is a threat of power, it is nothing compared to that of a Death Knight. "The food is getting cold, hurry it up will you?"
"The nights on this planet are always cold, the Ebon Hold is colder still," her reluctant dining companion murmurs. "Cold is something I have long since relinquished any thought over."
"What you need then, friend," Besa smiles widely and gestures for the serving girl to return to their table. "Is more wine."
