#onennian

(Thanks for the ask @onennian)

“Huh?” Otto tilts his head at the headstrong girl in confusion. What an specific thing to say. Though he didn’t find it odd. He’s heard stranger first words from people,

Nanna’s brow quirked a little with interest when Ingvar mentioned he wouldn’t be requiring food from her. “Very well, whatever you should prefer. Please know, though, that the meals are on offer all the same, should you change your mind.” She was very concerned with being a gracious host, ensuring her guests were well looked after.

(Thanks for the ask @onennian)

“Nngh!” Otto starts to stir from his unconcious and after a moment or so he slowly sits back up, “That was too close...” He says to no one in particular not aware of Ingvar’s presence just yet. 

He fully stands up and looks around to get a good feel for his surroundings, “Why in the world would those guys fire on their own ship? Are they dumb or something? Hm...looks like I got separated from the others again. Ah well, I’m sure they’ll be...”

Let me compliment you : @susurrone / @onennian : accepting

“Nay, it was not I will was attacking of you,” Ingvar admitted with a slight stammer or stutter. The voice was too deep. The volume, were it not painfully obvious that it was a voice deliberately hushed, could have been, but was not, far too loud. The face from which the words came was too far away, as, indeed, so too was the body.

Nay, the body was too close. And yet, so too was it also too far. Because the body, his and the till-recently-unconscious traveler’s, were touching; the halfling’s body was stood not on hard earth, but upon malleable flesh and bone and muscle. It was upon a great hand. And that great hand was attached to a great arm, and that great arm was attached to a great chest, and that great chest had attached to it great shoulders, and from those great shoulders came a great neck, and that neck had atop it a great head and hair and beard and staring eyes, and that great body a great beating heart and soft soul– though the body looked quite weathered and unfriendly, this body of the giant Ingvar.

He would have scrambled to kneel and put the human– wait, not human. Something else, then? Goddess, he was never good at distinguishing the little folk, for no matter what sort they were he inadvertently frightened them as his reputation and appearance proceeded him, and how was a giant meant to learn what different sorts of people looked like if his only interaction with any of them was a shriek and a fleeing– back upon the ground. But he did not. For the little fellow was standing now, and the last thing the giant wanted to do was move and risk him falling and being harmed, or, worse…!!

    Had Magnolion not been in such a rush to get up, perhaps he would have realized where he was. Perhaps he would have noticed the ground below his feet was much softer than it should be. It was only when he hears a voice that his situation come rushing to him like a current in a river. His aventurine eyes are blown wide with a mix of awe and horror. A giant. A true, real giant. Magnolion’s legs feel like jelly under him and he falls to his knees, not baring to look down and see just how high above the ground he is.