[center][h2][color=#0bda51]Calaphindë[/color][/h2][/center]
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Quillë's attention was, perhaps unfortunately for the Lamia that was trying to draw her closer and closer in, was quickly divided as another elf stepped into the middle between them, heedless of any conversation that may or may not have been happening between them. In just the last moment before the pair had been entirely pulled together, in fact, finding himself almost immediately squished between the two of them. To his credit, he looked surprised, as he set some books down on the bar and turned towards the pair he was now stuck between rather than calling out to the bartender.

[color=#0bda51]"Eh? A dark elf?"[/color] He frowned, furrowing his brow at the one to his right. [color=#0bda51]"How'd you get so tall?"[/color] Perhaps not the average question to ask of her sort, compared to the more usual sort like "what are you doing topside" or similar. [color=#0bda51]"I'd think that would be difficult where you're from, not to mention—oh, my!"[/color]

He turned to the left, seemingly only just noticing Hyseleia. [color=#0bda51]"I didn't step on your tail, did I? I—good heavens, lady, what are you eating? At least get some liver in there. You'll spoil yourself rotten if all you eat is muscle, you know."[/color] Just as quickly as he'd lost track of whatever he was going to order at the bar, he lost track of Quillë, instead taking issue with the Lamia's order of choice. Very nearly obligate carnivores, they were, that meant that they had to get a lot of organ meats and such to keep a full and balanced diet. [color=0bda51]"You're not picky, are you? I'm sure I have some recipes that would help you make things like that more palatable if you are. We can't have someone getting scurvy while we're out on an assignment, you know."[/color]