Snippet #2584869

Esclava

Esk looked up at the dark-skinned elf in surprise when she asked if he could sew. Before he could answer, she pulled her pouch out and searched inside it. Esk sat up as she started to empty the items inside the pouch on the table, and he pondered on how to answer her question.

He was snapped out of his pondering by a waiter, who nervously approached them with a tray full of food. Esk looked up at the waiter with a neutral expression as a young waiter placed utensils and a bowl full of steaming hot food in front of him with a trembling hand. "Ah, thank you." Esk said monotonously, raising his voice to be heard over the dark - skinned elf's talking in an exasperated tone into her bosom at someone or something called Prick.

The waiter nodded and turned to give the dark-skinned elf her bowl of food, but just as he was about to approach her, she plunged a hand into her cleavage with a blush. The waiter's face immediately turned red and he abruptly did a 180 degree turn, walking towards Esk, who had refrained from eating and was searching through his pack for his sewing case again. He looked up as the waiter placed another bowl of food and the utensils required beside his own.

"Please give this to your companion beside you, thanks," the waiter pleaded defeatedly. He was new to the job, and although he could deal with rowdy drunkards, flirting ladies and bar fights, he just wasn't equipped to deal with a lady pushing her hand down her cleavage.

Esk nodded, his face still neutral.

"Thanks," the waiter said, and escaped with a relieved expression on his face. He probably shouldn't leave it to a customer, but said customer had agreed and he could still feel his face burning and well, he couldn't get the picture out of his mind for some reason. The waiter resolved to dunk his head in ice cold water as soon as he possibly could.

Esk looked at the young waiter's retreating back for a moment before he turned back to the front, pulling his bowl of food in front of him. He ignored the dark-skinned elf's snapping at the golden needle (which was whizzing joyfully around the tavern) she had taken out of her chest area and carefully took the steaming bowl the waiter had left him in both hands, turning to face the elf.

"Here's your meal. Careful, it's hot." Esk said to her, his face neutral as always. He treated the incident which had just taken place (pulling live needles out of cleavage) as though it was as normal as a worker getting a drink of beer in an inn. He placed the bowl of food he was carrying down in front of the elf, turning to grab the utensils and place them beside her bowl of food. Esk made sure not to move his legs as he turned to face his own bowl; Prick was sewing up the tears in his trousers with almost supernatural efficiency.

Once Prick was done, Esk examined his pants, pleased to note that all of the tears were finished in such a short time. It was as though the tears hadn't even existed at all. Esk turned to face the needle and it's mistress with a faint smile on his face. "Thanks for fixing my pants." He said, giving out an aura of happiness.

At the dark-skinned elf commenting that she might need to learn how to sew, Esk looked at her quizzically, his happy aura growing into a puzzled one. "But you have Prick." He said, confused. A magical needle was good enough that she didn't need to learn, and Prick seemed nice... Then again, what happened if she lost her living needle? That must have been what she had thought of... She seemed wise to think of that, and Esk could help her out with that endeavour.

"If it doesn't offend Prick, I can teach you how to sew." He offered. "I cannot sew anything skilful like embroidery or as fast and efficient as Prick, but I know enough to mend clothes reasonably well. Will that be alright?"