“Hurr” would whin— err, express his disdain about arcwine and how bad it tastes. He lets out a loud burp and drinks some beer in front of the nightborne.
Would offer the monk a vial of Annihilan blood
Let’s see how strong is his resolve, spirit and regret in reality
Not get involved unless he absolutely has to. The laws of the Alliance forbid Roessler from killing this shady warlock but they do not dictate that he has to play nice.
Offer him a skull. But not just any skull. A demon skull. Why? Because it makes for a nice decoration on a wall and Uruk already has his place full of them, but doesn’t want to let this one go to waste.
A fellow fan of Phrenology or just a trophy collector?
Not really matter
Zymara would offer Uruk a tour to show him her collection of exotic skulls
Notices a silver coin near her hooves, picks it up and offers it to her guessing she had dropped it. If she declines it, he puts it to a free morning coffee! Lucky day!
“I was going for coffee myself, if you don’t mind the company” she says and offers a playful smile
Roessler sighs and slumps down next to Astrophel and Cynithra.
“I’ll pass on the coffee. I’ll settle for the good company though. Coffee tends to cause a crash somewhere later down the line. A crash that I can’t afford at my age.”
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Sits with him, eyeing him intensely with his glowing orbs, as if he’s trying to see into the man’s soul. After some time, he speaks:
"Wot’s a coffee?"
Would scratch behind his ear
Even poor dead puppies need some love and care
Throw another hoop aimed at one of her horn, it lands spinning slightly before dangling in front of her face.
“What’s that? Belittling someone to play thing due to their affliction is embarrassing? No, you don’t say!”
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Have a dragged out sigh of exasperation.
“You really do like being self righteous, don’t you. like yeesh, we all know your stoic but give it a rest, already.”
“I must agree with the sneaky wolf my dear… That was really uncalled for”
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Despite the dexterious movement expressed hoop-throwing, the pandaren takes his staff, and his time, to sit between the worgen and shal’dorei.
With gentle ease, he takes his flask and pours what seems to be hot water into a simple cup. He sprikles a few dark flakes into the water turning it a deep sea-green.
He sips before stating, “A willow has grown its roots too deep for the fox to make a den, its branches not wide enough for the sparrow to make a nest. How does the willow feel? Nothing. It feels nothing.” He takes another sip.
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Lets out a prolonged laughter, cackle and chuckle while shaking his head.
“Wrong! Plants feel! Bet it feels smug for it!”
Releasing more laughter as he lies himself on the ground.
“I speak from experience! Killed and eaten more Botani then you seen! Smug Bastards!! But tasty!”
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Krolag’s maniacal laughter had Aphranas’ attention. She gave the shaman an ironically polite gaze.
“Did you ever eat them fried? They taste better when treated with a fiery Phoenix from the bottom and on the top…” - she smiled to herself.
Erah shakes his with disapproval.
“Listen, you don’t need seasoning or anything fancy for something to taste good, elf. sometimes chased and raw meat is enough. after a night of the hunt.”
He turns to the Laughing Skull Orc. with the green eyes of Erah’s mantle strangely and creepily glowing. as the mantle seemingly merges with the orcs face as though it was some type of illusion within a split second of gaze.
“I bet you agree to Laughing Skull.”
“I’m not a big fan of ‘raw.’ Everything needs some kind of preparation, even if it doesn’t involve fire. Personally, I like my meat sous vide, cooked to perfection right through, from edge to core. Infuse the water beforehand with some seasoning and you’ve got a winning recipe, so long as you can control the heat properly.”
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“Cool story sis, but take a look at this!”
Rush pulls out a slab of preserved meat from an unidentified life form. It appears undercooked, overaged, and slathered with multiple seasonings lacking in any sort of balance.
“Who’s first?” he asks with gusto, sincerely believing that anyone would actually want to try his cooking.
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“Ha, give it here. I’ll give it to Merah.”
Erah passes over the rotted meat over to his sleeping Worg. As soon as shes smells the meat, she growls fiercely warning the Orc to stay away.
“Come on you’ve been sitting around all day. at least do somethin-” Barely able to finish his words, the Worg lunges at Erah.
“By the Ancestors!”
Erah quickly transforms into an astral Worg, as he begins to hightail it from Merah. While his young frost wolf seemingly, seems to be laughing at the scene.
“It was just a joke girl, calm down!”
(Skip just wanted to write something funny).
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