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[color=1BEFF2]Time: 10am
Location: Gakhumi’s Tavern - Ironhold
Interactions: Arn [@Omni5876], Rue[@Potter]
Equipment: 1 hunting knife, a flask of alcohol, a backpack, small tent, blanket, waterskin, rope, fire starting kit, light maker, cooking pot, a bar of soap, some drugs; skaula (8 grams) and zemak (1 ounce), rolling papers, and 83 amas. 
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Bowyn nodded and tried to listen to everything Arn said, he caught most of it. Arn from the army, that was good, he knew very well that dwarves knew how to hit hard. Even better than Arn being from the army, he also ordered more drinks. He had been paying close attention to the dwarves' words, trying not to focus on the way the man's beard moved as he spoke that Bowyn had not noticed another entering the tavern. 

[color=1BEFF2]“You are excellent company, Arn.”[/color] Bowyn said as he smacked the table with appreciation. 

[color=lightblue][b]"Fancy meeting you here."[/b][/color]

A familiar voice. It had been a long time since he’d seen anyone from his own village, anyone he would call a friend. He was caught off guard, an immediate feeling washed over him. The same one he used to get back home when the first real day of winter came. The day where it was proper cold again when the first real snow arrived to coat the ground and everything about the world felt beautiful and serene. They didn’t have proper cold and perfect snow like that away from home, or maybe they did and he just couldn’t find the peace in that anymore. 

For a second he smiled like a child does on a perfect day and then his happiness shifted into terror.

[color=1BEFF2][i]Why was Rue here? What was she doing so far from their village? The village was safe and the rest of Avalia was unforgiving. It chewed a person up, it hurt, and it took things that no one could ever heal or make right again.[/i][/color] 

He would not allow Avalia to do to Rue what it had done to him. He didn’t just know that like a thought, he felt it, in the same place that he felt the dangerous cold that wanted to steal the life from every dark elf. The part of him that felt like he could walk through fire and still be cold.

Everything in his head grew too loud to hear what Arn and Rue were saying. There was the cold, and the rage, and knowing that perfect days of winter now felt like nothing. and the fear, and deep dread that something awful could come close to someone he still cared about. There was no more euphoria; there was only a tavern with too many people and too much noise, and he was too far from the door and the outside. 

Arn’s voice was calm and even, something grounding to focus on. But Arn wanted basic introductions, and Bowyn only found himself distracted by the strange feeling of distance he felt from Rue. His mind spun trying to figure it out. [color=1BEFF2][i]Was she mad at him? Annoyed? Disappointed that he was different? Or was it more than that? Was it just uncomfortable to be near him, a physical reminder of what many fae considered an unthinkable fate?[/i][/color] Bowyn knew of worse fates. 

Bowyn once had the kind of hope that overfilled its vessel, enough so that it flowed out of him and into everything he did. The world had not just simply poured his vessel empty, leaving only drops and remnants of what was once there and a vessel that longed to be filled again. It had shattered that vessel, broken that part of him that had ever dared to have hope. A vessel left in jagged pieces unable to hold shape, unable to contain anything. He had been reduced to shattered pieces with more things missing than just wings. There were worse things to lose than wings. 

[color=1BEFF2]“Bowyn, winter fairy and provider of poor advice.”[/color] He said, addressing Arn first with a thankful nod as he gripped the new glass of mead. [color=1BEFF2]“If you're going to help the light elves, I wish to join.”[/color] Arn seemed more level header than most dwarves Bowyn had met. He seemed like he would be good company to travel with and Arn provided a calming energy that Bowyn appreciated. 

[color=1BEFF2]“I know what you're thinking. Bowyn’s different.”[/color] He looked at Rue as he spoke, his fingers drummed lightly against the table as he thought. Then he snapped his fingers as if it had suddenly come to him. [color=1BEFF2]“He’s lost something. His wings, yes, but maybe something more as well. His mind? You wouldn’t be the first to think that. It comes and it goes and then it comes back again.”[/color] He spoke flippantly, gave a sad smile and casual shrug. Bowyn was not ashamed that he had changed. He had survived, and it had required him to sacrifice part of himself, but he would make sure that sacrifice was worth it. 

[color=1BEFF2]“How are you?”[/color] He asked, his tone only soft and earnest now. He studied Rue, unsure if he had made things less uncomfortable or more so or if the strange distance had only been all in his head. [/color]