[Bigby makes a face like that, knitting his but smiling faintly.]
Not sure if "funny's" the word for it, but I definitely feel that. [In the weirdest, sometimes worst, sometimes best possible ways.] Sometimes it feels like I'm dreaming.
[Like he said, weird. But the dream is a distant one. He hasn't been in the Homelands for over three hundred years.
The tavern isn't that crowded; most of the action is congregated at the tables in the center of the room, regulars and tourists alike eating breakfast. Smells of eggs, bacon and biscuits fill the warm air, coming together in a mishmash of salty, savory greasiness. Bigby wrinkles his nose, glancing across to the bar. No one is sitting there. The choice is pretty obvious.]
What does it for you? [He asks this as he walks over to take a seat at the counter, expecting the other man to follow him.]
np!
Not sure if "funny's" the word for it, but I definitely feel that. [In the weirdest, sometimes worst, sometimes best possible ways.] Sometimes it feels like I'm dreaming.
[Like he said, weird. But the dream is a distant one. He hasn't been in the Homelands for over three hundred years.
The tavern isn't that crowded; most of the action is congregated at the tables in the center of the room, regulars and tourists alike eating breakfast. Smells of eggs, bacon and biscuits fill the warm air, coming together in a mishmash of salty, savory greasiness. Bigby wrinkles his nose, glancing across to the bar. No one is sitting there. The choice is pretty obvious.]
What does it for you? [He asks this as he walks over to take a seat at the counter, expecting the other man to follow him.]