<div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f2/6b/3f/f26b3f2e1b1b6f34157da6e1761ec5e9.jpg)</div>Nalrendramid Tazjurn did a fine job at ensuring his gets were beyond satiated when they came in response to his missive. Truthfully, Orisanna had little experience with such fine dining besides the occasional feast back home in Alyeria, but even that felt like it paled in comparison to the dishes the dragonborn offered up. Though she ate daintily - probably birdlike if one were to make an observation - she might've impressed a few souls with her ability to pack away that many roasted, candied, and pickled vegetables coupled with the most exquisite out of of season fruit she had the pleasure to taste. Fruit leather paled in comparison to the morsels she licked clean from her plate. Hopefully it had come across more endearing and appreciative of their host's graciousness than anything else.<br/><br/>By the time they retired to the library for the social half of the evening, Orisanna was willing away the insidious thought of how wonderful it would be to crawl onto Nalrendramid's floor and enjoy the hearth fire. She stood rather than sit in order to keep herself more alert lest she fall prey to that lax notion, and paused to lean on a nearby enamelled ornate table while the dragonborn began to tease the purpose behind his call. Her vaguely restless movements made it clear she enjoyed the night, the rain, and the elements in general. Being indoors for long was something of a minor tribulation.<br/><br/>The druid watched as Leonidas exchanged a look and tipped the flute of amber liquid in some unspoken custom. She did not have a liking for such spirits, nor did she understand the appeal of the burn, but she surely appreciated her counterpart's penchant for graceful speech and mannerisms. Truly he was the epitome of elven nobility and bearing as proven when his mouth opened and spun gold came out. His knowledge of such social customs went a long way in situations as these. Yet despite his delicate urging, Orisanna's own curiosity was a feral little beast.<br/><br/>She politely affirmed her attentions upon the dragonborn in his lush seat by taking a few steps forward into view. Orisanna approached behind Leonidas' chair and wrung her fingers carefully along the top, almost leaning into the furnishings. "Dear Nalrendramid," said the elf, speaking in a soft voice with a hint of concern. "Tell us what troubles you so that we may remedy it."