[hr][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/3jeejRD.png[/img][/center][hr] There is a pause after you knock, Zev. A brief one, one long enough for you to listen to Io’s statements. That pause seems infinitely smaller the second your father opens the door and throws himself at you within moments. Andrimar is a stick compared to Zevemar in both stature and coloring. He is only about 5'5" in height, but his hair is currently setting him at a decent 5'6". His skin is a rich brown and almost textured to resemble bark, and his eyes are a brilliant green, as are common in Wood Elves. Dark, dreaded hair sits coiled on the top of his head, looking as though he had thrown it up there seconds prior to him opening the door. When he looks up from hugging Zev to see you, Io, you are presented with a very familiar, awkward smile; this one just so happens to be lacking any tusks, though. Eventually, he pulls away, patting Zev’s arms as his expression slowly turned from shock to fondness and, finally, confusion. The elf stares up at you, Zev, and contemplates you as if it had just occurred to him you were really present. Then, in a flash of green robes and nimble fingers, the spine of a book connects squarely with your forehead. Andrimar is standing on his tiptoes in order to reach. Quilla has fled to sit above the door, snickering as they watch the scene unfold. “Zevemar! What are you doing here, isn’t it the middle of the semester?” He scolds, waving the book around freely (Io and Zev, you both notice this is a book of Illian Geography). “You certainly should be at the Spire studying! I received no letters that you had left either, really! I am glad to see you but you must admit this is not how I raised you to be, gallivanting off without a word.” Andrimar shakes the book in your face, Zev, just barely brushing your nose. He takes a moment, though, to breathe and collect himself, and his bright eyes turn to Io again. Io, you can literally see him shuffling through the words to say to you. There is a trace of familiarity in his gaze, however. This man seems to know you. “You… must be Iolanthe, right?” Once again, that awkward smile returns, and he holds a hand out to you. His fingers are long and slender, and an ornate tattoo snakes around the back of his hand back into his robes. “Zevemar has told me about you through his letters. Excuse my appearance.” He blushes, “I am Andrimar, and it is a pleasure to meet you. Please, please, come in! I shouldn’t let my son’s friend sit out here in the sun all day.” Andrimar opens the door which leads into a cozy den. The walls are a calming green color, and the floors are a smooth but scuffed wood. Blankets, pillows, and books seem to be his preferred decorative pieces, as every corner of the large room is lined with tome-filled shelves and the floor around the gray-stone hearth was piled high with ornate pillows and silk blankets. Well-used stairs sat on the other end of the room, just opposite the hearth, and even more books lined the steps. A doorway directly to your right seems to lead into a dining room or kitchen, where a Zev-sized dining table and chairs sat covered in papers and empty ink bottles. All the windows but the ones at the front of the house are open, letting in a warm breeze. Everything smells of sunlight, grass, and warm paper. Zev, your home looks a little different from when you last saw it. For one, many books lay scattered around as if your father had failed to return them to their usual homes. Papers were also piled high on many surfaces, some even taking up entire chairs due to the mass quantity of them. Andrimar lets out a soft sigh as he rushes around, collecting some of the piles and putting them further into the kitchen. Io, this place is absolutely adorable. It is warm and homely, almost similar to the Spire common rooms or library in a sense. Andrimar returns from the kitchen, his hair now down and tied neatly over his shoulder, and he offers you that same smile from before. “Please, excuse the mess. I was not expecting guests,” He throws a sharp glance over at Zev, but it quickly melts into a sense of curiosity, “Do tell, what has brought you and my son to our little town of Alanla?” [hr][hr]