|Do Harlaws Dream of Iron Fish?|
|Summary:||The morning after the battle. Einar and Pariston talk over breakfast.|
|Related Logs:||As yet unposted event log|
|Flint Area, Army Camp|
|Cook fire at breakfast time.|
|Sat Mar 24, 289|
The morning after the battle has come. Some of the soldiers in camp seem to be still on alert after yesterday's battle. Pariston has been of to patrol earlier on and came back not too long ago. Moving to get some breakfast and so on. The sun shining up the surroundings. The feel of the camp is a bit different than earlier thanks to it all. Though Pariston has moved to his own little place, not along with most of the soldiers at the moment. Sitting with eyes out over the sea.
Einar did not sleep particularly well all told, and certainly did not appreciate that as soon as he did manage to doze off, it was time to get up and check the sentries again. As such, he's tired, in pain and not feeling particularly full of the joys of spring. His wound has been dressed and cleaned mind, but it still hurts, that and the general post battle all-body ache. Breakfast though, breakfast is a welcome idea, and tea. Maybe he'll feel more alive once he's got that down him.
Pariston does spot Einar, and it seems he notices any pained look that the man might have. A waves is offered from his seated position. Eating from his bowl. "How are you feeling?" He calls out to the Flint. His eyes following the man for a few before glancing out over the sea again. "I feel like we were lucky." Looking at him again. "All things considered."
Einar takes an offered portion of whatever it is for breakfast and a mug of steaming hot brew. He nods to Pariston as he sees him and takes a seat nearby. "I'm told I'll live Master Vis," he answers with a faint smile before taking a drink, "but yes, I think all told, we were lucky." Might have been luckier still if Kamron Mallister hadn't intervened, or maybe less so, who but the Gods can say.
Pariston nods, "That's good." He offers about Einar going to live. Just continuing to nod. As for the deal with Kamron intervening, he saw that as lucky. Mostly because of the outcome of the battle. Had he not they might have gone away empty handed. But who knows. At least luck were on their side this time, that is what matters.
In a battle between Lords Rogr and Martyn, the Gods had clearly favoured Rogr, while favouring the Riverlands just as clearly when the armies met. A ringing endorsement for Rogr, or Damnation for Martyn. Or, more likely, a sign that Einar has been thinking too much about things when he couldn't sleep. After taking a mouthful of his breakfast he makes the executive decision that he's no longer hungry so offers the bowl to Pariston should the man want it. THe tea though, that is now cradled in both hands. "I'm guessing nothing is moving out there?" he asks, he can't imagine there is, but if there's a fresh report he might as well have it.
Pariston shakes his head, "No movement during my watch." He confirms. As for the food he tilts his head and raises a brow. "You really should eat some. Can't have you starving in battle." He says, though if the man still won't eat he will take the food. But he does still look to check on the noble.
Einar is not, thankfully about to starve, he just doesn't like whatever the hell it is this morning. Maybe he got a bad batch, maybe his palette has just decided to rebel this morning, either way though, he has his tea. He nods to the report and makes a mental note to pass it on to whichever of Anders or Fenrir he sees first. "I should think I'll cope with one missed breakfast," he answers with what he hopes is a reassuring smile, "this mornings just seems overly salty to me. Possibly we've been here so long it's infused into everything."
Pariston smiles and nods, "If you say so." If the noble don't wanna eat Pariston can't force him. "I'm sure it will pass. Or you just have to live with it for a while longer, until we get off this island." He offers, scratching his head as he has a wry smile. Feeling rather decent himself, although hungry, he starts on Einar's food after having eaten his own.
Einar listens to Pariston and glances to the fortifications. "Gods willing, we'll be off soon enough," he answers, after all, they've reached end game here, and the message on the raven had said that Ten Towers couldn't hold long. He doesn't though, voice the idea that they might be onto another island afterwards.
Pariston nods to the words of Einar. Following Einar's eyes. As for going on to the next island he might have heard it but not as a fact. Things do seem to go well and wherever they are needed he hopes that things won't keep them long. He does still long to get back to the mainlands after all. "Let us just hope that as many as possible stays alive. Soon we're off, but not yet. Can't relax just yet." He says, though his appearance does turn into a more playful after some silence, "How was sleep? Got any good dreams?"
"Can't relax yet," Einar echoes, even after the victory the day before. Draining his tea he claims a refill than chuckles slightly at Pariston's question. "Fraid not, you should ask the Lady Cordelya though, when we get home. I bet you a flaggon of ale that she gets some mighty interesting ones."
Pariston nods in agreement, looking around to anyone that might have listened in. His eyes and face telling them the same thing as both men has spoken about. He laughs and nods about Cordelya having fun dreams. "Might do so. If the lady is even going to tell me that is." He chuckles a bit more, shaking his head. "I at least hope you weren't dreaming about more ironborns. That would only give you nightmares." He says in jest, though looking to see Einar's reaction. Who knows, he might have had nightmares.
Einar has not it seems, or at least, none that disturbed him enough to either wake him or allow him to recall them. "You speaking from personal experience there?" he jokes back with casual ease. "I wonder what they dream though?" he asks, expression turning thoughtful for a moment before he shrugs it off, "boats probably."
Pariston shakes his head, "Not that I know. Though if I would it would probably be about using them as target practice." He suggests. "Though it could be about their women." He says with a shrug. He does have a weak spot for women after all. As for what they might dream of, he chuckles and shrugs, again. "Either that or fish."
"I think we'll all be dreaming of fish for a while to come," Einar admits, it's become a staple of the diet after all, "just so long as the smell eventually fades." As for Ironborn women, well, he isn’t about to make a comment there, although in all honesty, he's not even sure if he's ever seen one.
Pariston chuckles. "Perhaps." He replies, not going further on that. Mostly since there ain't much more to mention. "Well I'm not sure, but I think it does smell better than some of those ironborns." He can't say for sure about their women, but he could have been thinking about what he pictures. Although who knows if it's really ironborn in his dreams. he just shakes his head, "Anyway…" He says, without knowing how to go on from there.