[If Estinien is affronted by a mere flick of the wrist, he says nothing; while there might be a time or a place where delicate manners can do a knight some good, battlefields and assignments to frigid watch towers are not among them. He stares at the flask for a moment, before he takes it for himself.]
Your generosity knows no bounds.
[His voice is dry, but there's a slight upturn of his lips to hint at his appreciation. He is not one to seriously indulge while on a mission, but a sip or two of mulled wine or spirits to warm the bones hardly counts as an indulgence. Honestly, one could argue that it's a necessity, now that they've been forced to endure this accursed and its endless cold. He takes a swing, pleasantly surprised by the warmth (gods, he'd be tempted to get one of these himself, had he a place to keep it), before he hands the flask back to its owner. While he is not one for company, company becomes more tolerable when they bring drinks with them. Besides, even he must admit there is wisdom in having a spare set of eyes. The Horde is as cunning as they are vicious, and one can never be too vigilant when it comes to their schemes.
Speaking of vigilance... Estinien stiffens as he sees a flash of movement from the woods, but it is no dragon - it is merely a pack of wolves, no more than three in number, dashing down the hills and through the snow. Perhaps it is nothing, but it's strange, seeing them venture so close to a settlement of knights.
Unless, of course, a greater threat lurks in the forest.]
Do you see that?
[His voice is low, and he is no longer watching the wolves. Instead, his gaze is fixed upon where he first saw them.]
thanks! sorry for the late response btw
Your generosity knows no bounds.
[His voice is dry, but there's a slight upturn of his lips to hint at his appreciation. He is not one to seriously indulge while on a mission, but a sip or two of mulled wine or spirits to warm the bones hardly counts as an indulgence. Honestly, one could argue that it's a necessity, now that they've been forced to endure this accursed and its endless cold. He takes a swing, pleasantly surprised by the warmth (gods, he'd be tempted to get one of these himself, had he a place to keep it), before he hands the flask back to its owner. While he is not one for company, company becomes more tolerable when they bring drinks with them. Besides, even he must admit there is wisdom in having a spare set of eyes. The Horde is as cunning as they are vicious, and one can never be too vigilant when it comes to their schemes.
Speaking of vigilance... Estinien stiffens as he sees a flash of movement from the woods, but it is no dragon - it is merely a pack of wolves, no more than three in number, dashing down the hills and through the snow. Perhaps it is nothing, but it's strange, seeing them venture so close to a settlement of knights.
Unless, of course, a greater threat lurks in the forest.]
Do you see that?
[His voice is low, and he is no longer watching the wolves. Instead, his gaze is fixed upon where he first saw them.]