[ SPARKLING WATER ] - Fresh spring water that has been magically carbonated. Served with a squeeze of lime or a dash of one of the many fruit syrups available at the bartenderās disposal.
Pandreo knows better than to dance with a dancer. He'll never match their steps, and he doesn't want to. No one has taught him this lesson harder than Seadall, and in a way, he's grateful.
On the sidelines, Seadall is easier to approach. "Heya," he greets smoothly, "long time no see! You've probably been cutting a rug; are you thirsty?" Pandreo offers the glass he's holding; peach sparkling water, jingling with ice cubes.
As if sent by the Divines themselves, water appears just as Seadallās form begins to feel real strain, when heās considering where he might find moments of peace to rest and recover.Ā
He knows his own body, after all, and even hours of rigorous training donāt make him immune to weariness.Ā
āYou have my thanks, I-ā Seadallās words cut mid syllable, eyes focusing on what- who stands in front of him. He knows his expression twists through a full range of surprise-shock-joy. āPandreo!ā The cool water is in his hand but itās just as quickly forgotten. Instead, he steps into his space, throwing both arms around him by way of greeting.Ā
The water is cold, running over his hand where it splashes from the glass. āYouāve come at the right time, it seems! Have you just arrived, I mean?ā Of anyone Seadall thought would thrive in this particular setting, Pandreo was the undisputed winner.Ā
Perhaps Fogado would give him a run for the title, but his countryman would stand front and center nonetheless. It brings a smile that he tucks into the curve of his shoulder, gone as he pulls away. What remains is simple enthusiasm. āWhere are you going? Iād like to accompany you, if thatās alright. Unless you'd care to dance with me?ā