Five O'Clock On A Friday

The elk that lay nearby didn't go unnoticed, but her attention was captured by Éldi's companion as he settled onto a try nearby. Eyrún cast him a vaguely amused look before returning her gaze to her friend as he began to speak, explaining that Askr's first batch of mead was ready, and he wished to share it with the rest of the band. "How thoughtful," she commented, a hint of laughter bubbling behind her words. Sharing some mead with Éldi certainly sounded interested, if nothing else. She wondered if anyone else from Hjarrandi might be joining them. She'd be content either way.

He was even polite enough to pour her some, and she regarded it with a quirked brow, definitely interested. "Can't say I've ever had mead myself, so I might not be the best judge," Eyrún admitted with a chuckle. Regardless, that wasn't about to stop her, and she wasted no time in leaning to lap at the bowl offered to her. The smell alone had given her an idea of what it might taste like, but the way it burned when it hit the back of her throat surprised her. It didn't burn in a bad way though - it reminded her of the way a bitterly cold morning could feel refreshing, despite some discomfort. She took a long swig of it before lapping her lips and facing Éldi again. "I'll have to try a second batch sometime to see how it stacks up against this one," she suggested playfully. "But I quite like it."