Kire grinned at Ysaryn’s delight; admittedly, it was infectious, and she rather liked the way the elf said her name. “Lead the way, milady,” she said, gladly following and looking forward to what she was going to make, forgetting about Ruli and the tools for the moment. As she carried both the seafood and the supplies from the botanist, they passed Zeke, whom she had expected would ignore or avoid them. Instead, Zeke stopped to leer, particularly at Kire, and suddenly burst out in anger. “He’s in Cordon, buying tools,” she said firmly, though she stood there, not quite understanding what he meant. “I don’t think he has any humor left in his body, so you’ll forgive me for not understanding.” She turned to the elf, her own expression questioning. “Ysaryn?” She looked back at Zeke again, defiant at his gaze, then noticed his eyes.

“Oh. Ohh.” Kire growled, not a little annoyed that it took her this long to notice. [i]He just couldn’t help himself, could he?[/i] “One of these days I’m going to shove this ring down his throat if he does something stupid again,” she muttered. “To be clear, I didn’t tell him to make it look like this,” she said to Zeke, “I just told him I wanted to look like someone who grew up here with a decent face. Want me to drag him back here by the ear?”