Splat! [Bog]
Whether his dinner guest was feeling bashful or outright nervous, it was lost on the amateur chef. He was thinking about dinner, and whether this new concoction he'd stuffed his fish with would be a success. "I'm anxious to try it." Áskell commented, to which the short stub of his tail wiggled gleefully. He only hoped it wouldn't disappoint, and put the poor young man off of cooked foods forever. Brilliant emerald eyes found themselves locked on the growing flames, lost in thought. It took a moment for him to register it, when Áskell spoke up again. This time, the hesitation in his voice was noticed. It took a moment for Bog to tear his attention away from the dancing flames, and back to the dark furred boy's features. "I just was thinking about what dating someone would be like. Just wondering if you'd ever thought about it. My brother hasn't either and since I'm… an orphan, I just… you know, wondering." he explained softly, and it wasn't hard to imagine a dark blush painting his cheeks. The healer blinked at his companion for a moment. "Oh," he grunted quietly. Dinner was now forgotten. Any bravado was lost in the face of earnest interest from a cute boy, and the notion that he would now have to say something back. "well, I don't really know much either." he admitted with a light shrug, unable to look away from Áskell's face for more than a moment or two. "Maybe you can take me to see that volcano of yours, and we'll call it a date?" he offered awkwardly, his own cheeks heating up beneath green mottled fur. "See where that leads us." he added, and then decided he needed to be doing something. By nature, Bog was not especially skilled in the social aspects of life, and he tended to bounce from one thing to the next without ever sticking to something for long. There was a nervous twitching of his bobbed tail as he plodded to the cooling catfish, the sensitive pad of his nose moving in close to the cooked meat to test the heat it gave off. Since his nose wasn't immediately burned, the swamp dweller opted to skitter towards the knife he'd foolishly discarded before. Maybe cutting it in half would be best. Give his guest the head, with all the best parts, and leave the fleshy tail for himself. The brain tended to liquefy while cooking, and only partially solidified as it cooled. It would be funny to watch Áskell try it. He pointedly looked away from his guest, nervous now that he had admitted interest in.. dating. What if it was a joke? Oh man, what if he had jumped the gun and made plans too hastily? Okay, now was not the time for that. If he lost his cool, dinner would probably get ruined while he tried to cut it up. He sat down carefully at the edge of the stone slab, and pinned the point of the blade against the spine of the fish. From there, he only needed to apply pressure to the handle with his paw, holding everything steady, and the blade would do the rest. Sure enough, it sliced cleanly down the middle and there were two halves of a catfish left. "Alright, food is ready!" he announced, unable to temper the broad grin that managed to make its way onto his face. He grabbed the cut end of his half, leaving the charred tail hanging from his maw like a strange tongue. He didn't much care if there was sand in his food, and so he simply ambled back over to where he'd left his larger companion and flopped back down into the sand by the fire. "I left the head for you, make sure you crack the brain case and try that," he said with a tiny smile. From there, it was beyond his power to maintain the self control to wait any longer. Bog tucked greedily into his catfish, savouring the flavours he'd managed to add to the fatty meat. |