Dynaviir looked up startled. He had heard Niniel approach; although being a ranger, he was off-guard and deep in thought in the inn, and was taken quite aback when he heard her voice. He looked up. He was surprised to see a woman looking down at him, and noticed her eyes were for a moment on the sword. He suddenly realised how intimidating it must be for her to try and converse with a man who carried a blade wherever he went, her stuttering made him feel slightly ashamed.
He smiled and looked up to her. "I apologise, but I mean no harm. I could not draw my sword from it's sheath in this merry inn for a long time yet. Forgive me, I oft forget that I carry it."
He pushed aside his left leg and the hilt of the blade vanished from view. He even felt a tad embarrassed, for this was a merry folk's inn, and he did not wish to darken it. But then he thought of the elf who now sat alone, armed with her bow at hand, much like himself. He hoped he wasn't too out of place.
It had been many leagues since he had talked to someone in a true conversation. He gazed up at her feeling self-conscious, knowing he could talk for months about himself, but he knew he wished to hear what she had to say. He spoke at length, but he did not wish to do so.
"Please, if you wish to sit down, I would be grateful. I would be much glad of the company. Indeed it has been many weeks now since I have heard any voices in deep speaking with my own, save the neighing of my fair pony. But I would be glad to hear anything you may say, if you have anything to offer. I myself too have many a tale, but unfortunately, I find I can talk for a bit too long."
He cut his speech there, realising how long he had spoken for. He went a tad red in the face, a bit surprised at himself after he could have merely answered with a polite 'Yes, please'.
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