RP:Marriage... Be Glad And Grateful

Summary: Lanara has taken a break from wedding planning to have a drink at the local tavern, when she spies Orikahn across the bar, devouring a ham bone in the most grotesque fashion. The witch is caught staring at the feline, and the two strike up a comical conversation on how they think a marriage should occur. The one thing they seem to agree on, is that one should always be happy and grateful of their spouse, and that a wedding should be tailored to the couple, not what society demands. Kahn assures Lana that he will grace the wedding with his presence, and they part ways as the evening winds down.

Orikahn sits with both elbows on the bar, a ham hock in one hand, his chin in the other. Lazy, drooping eyes study the liquor labels one by one. The cat's saber maw opens wide, and he bites off a stringy hunk; it noisily rips from the bone. Slurp, gnash, gulp. The hock is quite large yet, but, bite by bite, Kahn's managing to whittle it down to the bone.

Lanara sits at the opposite end of the bar, watching in horror, as the feline devours the meat, down to the bone. It’s fascinating to watch, truth be told, though it’s also something out of a nightmare. The animal empath, rarely, if ever, dines on anything containing meat. The sometimes vegetarian bites back the urge to gag, and tips the bottle to her lips, taking a long pull. Wedding planning was exhausting, and Lana looks as though she’s ready for a nap. Hopefully, some ale would ease her mind.

Orikahn feels something that makes the hair on his neck prickle. He noisily tears off another strip, just as noisily gulps it down, then rounds on his stool. Kahn's stare finds Lanara in an instant, and his third eye gives a faint flash as though to confirm, yes, this is the one who bothered you with her... interest. Maintaining eye contact, he drops the hock on the bar, wipes the grease from his chin, then wipes his hands on his jerkin. "Hmm? Did you have something you wanted to say, hmm?" His voice rumbles across the bar like tumbling rocks. A few patrons find excuses to get up and move farther away from the two. Mesthak rolls his eyes, shakes his head, and focuses on washing cups.

Lanara nearly spits out the amber liquid as Orikahn spins on his stool and fixes her with an intimidating look, and that visible third eye blinks at her in suspicion, as well. Thankfully, the woman’s third eye was buried beneath silken skin, and it didn’t scare off any bystanders. A few patrons have fled the scene, leaving her to converse with the feline, who is now wiping his greasy palms all over his clothing. It’s the worst case of table manners that the witch has ever seen, and she’s dated a few lycan’s in her day! “I, uh, no-no, I didn’t plan on conversing this eve… With anyone.” This was Aira’s mate, and Lana and Kahn went back a few years, though they were more acquaintances than anything. “Um… Did you receive the invitation? They were mailed a few days ago, though you can never trust birds of prey. I was hoping to hear a reply…” Was he too feral to issue an r.s.v.p? She’s fairly certain that Aira would be attending the wedding, as they were close friends. Did she really –want- this ill-mannered cat man ruining the lavish affair?! Eli would enjoy his company, she supposes, so she fixes him with a smile and swallows the bile rising in her throat. “The wedding invitation, I mean.”

Orikahn raises a fluffy brow in suspicion. For someone who wasn't looking for a conversation, this woman sure has a way of babbling and *not* getting to her point. "Invitation?" He cocks his head. "Birds? PREY?!" These last two are of fierce interest to the cat. His tail gives a broad, twirling swish, and his weight rolls forward. It's as though his entire monstrous bulk is winding like a spring--big fluffy spring with saber fangs and tiger claws. Then she does something unexpected. Lanara smiles and, despite himself, despite his cold predatorial heart, Kahn finds it strangely disarming. "Wedding invitation?" Kahn recalls Pilar's wedding, and the notion of sacred ceremony splashes him like cold water. Oh right. Civilized stuff. Forgetting his savage intentions, for the moment anyway, Kahn gives a thoughtful, hesitant growl. "Hrrrr. Frilly paper stuff, smells like funny fru-fru women's things? Aira handles all those." His nose wrinkles in disdain, and he tries to wave away the memory of the ghastly letter. It's like he can still smell it, like the dainty stationary could somehow infect him with dainty poise or, worse, manners.

Lanara had a penchant for chewing off the ears of just about anyone, as she was prone to incessant babbling, and even more so, once she had a bit of ale to wet the whistle. “Yes! The wedding invitation!” At first, he looks as though he’s about to pounce on the petite elf, and she visibly stiffens, as his tail whips to and fro, and the excitement in his gaze is evident. The feline seemed –very- interested to hear about birds of prey, and she connects the dots, as she thinks back to the time one of her lynx kittens had somehow managed to get himself stuck in a canary cage. Spoiler! The canary met his demise, and all that remained was a few yellow feathers, and a rambunctious kitten that wore a Cheshire grin for the duration of the week. Orikahn wouldn’t eat her… Would he?! Aira wouldn’t’ stand for that type of behavior, she hopes, though at her disarming smile, the big man seems to settle down a little. “Hey! I wanted them to be pink, but Eli insisted on beige!” Of course, the print had been in magenta, so she had somewhat compromised. Lana chuckles at Kahn’s comment about her lavender perfume, and the feminine paper, “You’re a male! Of course you would think that! What man –wants- to be in or go to a wedding? They are mostly for the women… Though, I do hope you both will attend. I promise, you won’t have to dress as an imp and hand out favors.” Raising her ale, she motions to Nancy, and the barmaid delivers them both a refill, though she avoids touching Kahn’s greasy fingertips as the glass leaves her hand. “So… Kahn, I have to ask… You and Aira have been together for quite some time! Are you thinking of marrying? If so, I know a fantastic jeweler in Enchantment! And I could help you plan out a proposal…” If his romantic life was anything like his eating habits then her friend was doomed.

Orikahn double takes as Nancy arrives with a drink, and he hums something kind of like a "thank you" or, well, at least the second cousin to a "thank you" anyway. He seems pleased to have a beer, anyway, and he's settling back down. The cat nods, listens, grabs his pork bone again, resumes gnawing, tearing, gulping, guzzling. It's easy to grunt his approval, growl his consideration, and snort his acknowledgement. Easy until she begins asking questions about Aira. "Hmm? Marry? Hah!" The cat laughs, but there's no laughter in his eyes. "Marry for who. For you?!" Kahn points the bone at her. "For him?" He points at Mesthak. "For the moon!?" He points out the window and laughs mirthlessly again. "Baha." With a little added ferocity, he rips the last piece of scorched meat from the bone and noisily crunches it down. "What you do is your business. The great spirits have already consecrated our union."

Lanara rarely has a double order of ale when drinking alone, and never at the start of the week. However, with the addition of Orikahn, and the way he’s taken to eating the ham bone, she needs all the liquor her petite form can handle. At least this was a distraction from wedding planning! If she had to talk to one more caterer, florist, or entertainer, she would pull out a fistful of those lustrous chestnut locks! Lana sees through the attempt to sway her views on matrimony, and she grins at Kahn, as he waves the bone, and unleashes a bark of laughter. There’s not much contempt for marriage in his eyes though, and Lana’s watching him closely, as if to see if there’s an underlying emotion. He loves Aira, she’s sure of that, and she knows that the vixen is head over heels for her mate, but would this union that he speaks of be enough? Mesthak widens his eyes, deeply confused, and for a heartbeat, he thinks that Lana is proposing to the feline! However, as he pieces together their conversation, he lowers his hand from the bottle of champagne. “No, Kahn! Not for me, or poor Mesthak, or for the moon… Though a wedding beneath the moon would be quite romantic. See?! You have some romance in those old bones, after all!” Laughing, Lana takes a swig of her ale, and clears her throat. “The great spirits? Do you mean you had a private handfasting ceremony? Before the God and Goddess? That sort of thing?” The witch is curious now, and she perches her chin atop her palm, waiting for an explanation.

Orikahn tosses the bone across the room and into the fireplace. He licks his fingers clean, guzzles down the flagon of beer, then throws up his fingers in a simple "V" for "2 more". Mesthak and Nancy can worry about how to split their tab later. "Hm? Handfasting?" His face scrunches, he shakes his head, and he looks on the cusp of launching into a diatribe when, thank Sven, his fresh flagon arrives. A quick drink douses the fires of his disgust. The three eyed cat shakes his head. "No. Nor has she asked. We are of a common understanding." As the words come out of his mouth, he has to pause, and his dark lips briefly tighten across his fangs. No, he snorts in self assurance, they'd never discussed it because there was simply nothing to discuss. "Settled in its own course. Tsk. Tsk! You have your people and your shaman and your holy rites. Marry by your own way. Marry and be glad," he takes a sip, staring down at his feet, "and grateful." Through all the course of this, Kahn has yet to formally accept or decline the witch's invitation. "Who is your betrothed, then? A mighty warrior?" He might expect a friend of Aira's to have similar tastes.

Lanara didn’t desire a third drink, as she was only beginning on her second, so as the two are delivered she leaves hers in the center of the table. Kahn was welcome to it, should he desire a fourth, and from the topic at hand, it was likely that he’d down several more on this night. Lana had a knack for asking loaded questions, and she would keep poking until her curiosity was sated. Tonight was no different, it seemed, as she quirks a brow, “You expect Aira to ask you to marry? I don’t think she’s the type that would ever mention such a thing. And normally, it’s the man that does all the asking…” As if she was one to talk! Eli and Lana just happened to pass a jewelry store and she dragged him inside to try on wedding bands, which sparked their conversation about matrimony. She’d have to pass on such an idea to Aira, she thinks, before her lips form a thin line and she takes in his next words. “We are marrying in our own way… The tradition from my homeland of Kelvar, is a handfasting ceremony. It’s when a high priestess binds our hands together in rope… It symbolizes that you are with this person for all eternity, tied, much like the invisible cord that connects one soul to the next. It’s rather beautiful…” She pauses, “We aren’t going to jump the broom though, Eli wasn’t taken with that idea.” Dark hues seem to brighten as Kahn asks about her betrothed, and her cheeks redden, “His name is Elioyahazer, and he’s from the desert. You actually met him at the Yule Ball… He played the role of Santa! He is a very capable man… He’s retired now, though he lived a life working from the shadows.” She’s hinting at the work of an assassin, and she gives Kahn a knowing smile, as they both weren’t afraid to deal in death.

Orikahn begins connecting the dots. He remembers the santa and, ah yes, Lanara *was* at the ball wasn't she? His eyes sweep up and down her, trying to remember what she looked like in that golden dress. Hmm. "Very capable man," he echoes after her, and he tries to imagine what "a life in the shadows" might imply. The man certainly seemed to carry himself well. "Good juju," the cat grumbles in approval as he nods, finishes his beer too quickly, and grabs the spare from the center of the table. "Harsh winter, Lanara, be warned." The cat shakes his finger enigmatically. What does he mean by this warning. "Harsher for me. Trust my blessings." He flicks his own ear, then his whiskers. Then he hiccups. "HIC. See you there, unless the snow devils find me first. HIC." Again, with alarming ease, the beer vanishes, and he looks around for another. Instead, his hand finds his pack, and reflexively, he slings it over his shoulder, draws his cloak close, and precariously stands. "Lanarza, good job. Have lots of babies. After," he giggles to himself and hiccups, "after the wedding." The massive cat takes a few teetering steps and then, like flipping a switch, the drunken cat finds his footing and glides out the door like a greased shadow.

Lanara sips at her ale and crosses her legs, not quite understanding why Kahn only just seems to recognize her, as they had met at various functions over the years. Was she –that- forgettable?! Winter is coming… What does that even mean?! “Erm, yes… We’re marrying in Sage Forest, so it shouldn’t be too cold… I’m pleased that you will be there!” Eli would be happy to have another familiar face present, as mostly everyone was a stranger to the desert born. The jest about babies has her cheeks on fire, and she merely chuckles and shakes her head, “We certainly will have lots of practice…” He didn’t know she couldn’t have children, and now was not the time to open that can of worms, as he hardly could handle discussing matrimony! “Have a good evening, Kahn, get home safe. And tell Aira that I said hello!” Lana wiggles her fingers in a parting wave as the feline leaves the tavern, and she exchanges a look with Mesthak, “I think I will need another refill, after all…”