Nope, still can't cook. [Rii]

[rii]

Rulven grunted noncommittally at her, opting to pursue subject any further. Having a spat with a woman over something trivial–well, any man should know better than that. Besides, the smith didn't like to remain upset over any sort of thing. Though, it bothered him a touch further that he had unknowingly let on about his displeasure toward her jabbing. But, to each their own opinion..

The smith instantly stiffened when Evrgande so casually knocked the lizard away without so much as batting a lash. Then to continue on in conversation, as if the action meant nothing. The friendly aura around the smith vanished, leaving behind a firmed jaw and harded eyes that kept a frank gaze on Evrgande that would have done to make anyone uncomfortable. His warm and friendly demeanor did well to illusion his size and bulk, but once dropped, Rulven really was the type that people thought better of before picking a fight.

"It would do others well to learn to apologize," He said dryly in an even tone while holding out his hand to the firelizard, who quickly took him up on the offer, hoping up to sit on his broad shoulder. The lizards may as well have been pests, but Rulven knew the draconic creatures still held feelings–understanding–empathy. They belonged to others, and it was up to those people to displine them. The lizards were like children. And for Evrgande to just backhand it.. and she even thought it was his and still did the action in front of him.

Narrowing his gaze on her, Rulven pushed aside the plate–still very much in control of his words and actions. Not exactly angry, no, but highly disapproving of her actions. "Ten turns, you said." He ran his fingers over the back of the perched blue. "Even I know these form bonds with people. Do you make a habit of slapping other people's dragons as well?"

Maybe she did, she was an odd one–eating slabs of feline and having all the manners of an uncouth brat. Instead of walking off, Rulven remained where he had been the entire time, leaning the small of his back against the counter, legs angled out so that he wasn't as tall–but paired next to Evrgande it made little difference.

[mierce]

The man’s immediate change in demeanor did not go unnoticed, but Evrgarde made the conscious decision not to physically react. One thing she had realized over time was that giving into fear, or even alarm, often empowers those who seek to intimidate. Logically, she didn’t think Rulven was necessarily trying to bully her into anything but habits are hard to break. Instead, she shrugged and set the plate down to the side so that she could tidy up the counter area. Bloodied papers were thrown into a contained trash heap, dirty pan and dishes dropped into a soapy tub for soaking before washing, and a similarly soapy rag run over the stone top. She may be lacking in manners and etiquette, but she liked things to be in some semblance of order. The stove fire was already burning when she arrived, so she considered it inconsequential to do anything about it.

“Why slap a dragon if they’re not bothersome? Duuh. In fact, she got along rather well with most dragons she’s come across, if only because they tended to leave her be and instead interact with Iorath. The same could not be said for their miniscule cousins, or some of their riders for that matter.

Not surprisingly, she couldn’t understand why Rulven was suddenly so upset over the fire lizard. It wasn’t like she had grabbed its little body and hurled it to the ground. The damn thing was such a drama queen, shrieking for no good reason over a little trip. It had wings, after all and could have easily righted itself. It wasn’t even hurt! Feh. Nothing but fishing for pity.

She scooped up her plate to resume eating, apparently unfazed by the smith’s disapproving gaze. It seemed the lout was waiting for something. An apology? Was that what he was hinting at? For brushing aside his firelizard who wanted her food? Seriously? Still, if he took airy apologies to be just soooo important, she could oblige.

She set the plate down again and turned to face the man. Well, sort of. He may be leaning against the counter but he was still nearly a whole head taller than her. “Seems you and I have very different philosophies about things in life,” she said seriously. “Your blue hardly seems worse off, but if you’re so offended, I apologize.” It took some effort to not tack on a few choice words regarding training the critter, but she managed to pull off the entire thing without seeming insincere… or so she thought anyway. Who knew what the man would think.

With apology out of the way, she resumed slicing the meat to eat. If he didn’t want any, she’d just enjoy it right here and now.

[rii]

Of course she would take the words to their most literal sense. The smith thought he was suppose to be the thick-headed one. Rulven's point had been that the small creatures held a deep bond with their owners, that she had by default, slapped him–if the blue had belonged to him. Such a crass thing, if Rulven had been of northern stock he'd have half the mind to strike the woman to demonstrate the point–maybe that would get the point across.

Rulven didn't place much value in Evrgande's words, but she had apologized (the word choice more mocking than sincere) and the fact remained that the blue lizard wasn't his. If it had been, Rulven's reaction would likely have been more.. extreme. He was an overly protective sort. "A stern word or two works well to detour them, or nudging them aside. You don't have to hit them."

With a smile, and Rulven did well enough to make it seem genuine–that he accepted her apology and all the world was right again. He shoo'd the firelizard to take to the sky before turning to the stove, opening it again to place the log of charred wood back onto the coals. "Seems you're cooking came out just fine this time. So I'll be one my way, chores to do and all that. Take care, Evrgande."