Alistair here! Leave me a message, and I'll get back to you. Unless I've been kidnapped by giants, in which case--[in a higher-pitched voice]--please rescue me?
Zevran worked a whole thirty seconds, making that paper crown. He's glad to see it being treated with the care it deserves. Zevran hoists himself in, through the window, and leans back, sitting on the sill. "Nothing in particular. I presented your lovely roommate with a similar treasure, and I did not want to make you feel left out. You know how terribly upset I get when you cry."
Because they're, you know, friends. He still hasn't answered the question of why he's giving out nugs in the first place, but he trusts King Numbskull to have lost that particular thread.
"Yeah, yeah. Zevran, king of empathy." Surely people just give out nugs out of a misguided sense of kindness. Anyway, there are larger issues afoot, like the fact that the creature is already pawing at his carpet like it wants to dig through it. "I...don't know if nugs really belong inside a house."
"I prefer 'prince', thank you. Princes have more fun." He grins, and looks over to the nug, currently mashing its head into the soft dirt of the... carpet. "Of course one must bring them inside, that is where the ovens are kept. In Antiva, at least; I do not know what culinary excellence hails from Ferelden... if any does, at all."
"Oh, is it a gift of food?" Alistair asks, raising an eyebrow. He scritches the nug's ears. "I thought it might be a misguided attempt at getting me a pet."
"That is why it is such an excellent gift! It works on a multitude of levels." He gestures to the nug. "Hungry? Have a nug. Lonely? A nug. Though I would not advise being both at the same time, it could lead to heartbreak."
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Because they're, you know, friends. He still hasn't answered the question of why he's giving out nugs in the first place, but he trusts King Numbskull to have lost that particular thread.
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