[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjE1OC4zMjYyMzcuU0dGbWNtSnFiM0p1LjEAAAAA/uncial-animals.book.png[/img][/center]
[center][i]Towering Giant, Repose Until Nightfall... [/i][/center]
[@Noodles]
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And much like a spell, the thought metastasized into real form, the youth had approached the Tavern towards where the giant sat and even directed her greetings towards him. Upon closer inspection, the lass was indeed young, yet her hands and arms were battle-ridden in scars and bruises. Her finger, absent from delicacy and were like those of farmers yet the intricacies of the wound would show they were not gifted through the tending of the fields. Hafrbjǫrn had those due to wood working, field care and the smith. Her aura did not speak of that, the gentleness of her speak demonstrated air of nobility and her poise as she tread through the Tavern was refined and tempered, almost like a calculated machine or the hammer after clanging against ebony. She did not share the same origins as this mountain of a man by mere extension of sight, instead, these were the scars of a woman honing the blade. Did her gauntlet lack any sort of padding? Did the hilt lack any sort of leather? Did the pommel lack any sort of stability? The possibilities ran across his thoughts smudging his features into a lifted brow. His mead still dancing on the innards of his jug, while the sweat of condensation drip through its glass and stained the table underneath. Hafrbjǫrn took another swing before realizing that the bar's noise began to lessen, perhaps this is due to his mind trailing along so far into thought. It mattered not, thought the giant. Perhaps this could be seen as an opportunity, if so, he would take it. [color=00a651]"Only bread, young knight?"[/color]   

The thunder of his tone reverberated into words directed at the youth known as Selova. Her dress spoke too intricately of a sort of lifestyle which the giant thought of, yet her eating habits seemed mild and humble. Something he did not seem to understand in correlation. Perhaps her aura was that of nobility, but discipline of a warrior. [color=00a651]"Perhaps a bit of meat would garner some strength for the journey ahead. I do not wish to impose, but if there is anything more dangerous than a man with a sword, is one with a hole in their stomach."[/color] He spoke absent-minded like. Almost as if he was regurgitating something he spoke many times, before, though the jade of his iris locked onto her's, she did not follow suit as of yet and focused entirely on her food. [color=00a651]"I am called Hafrbjǫrn, young knight. I have also been offered the position as a guild mate, though I have yet to come to terms if I would join in or not."[/color]