Firefly Glen Come, come to your brother (thou shalt not die)

Alaric loped through the shadows. Dipping in and out of them. Dancing with the spry of feet, grinning at others. Sharing his laughter and his words with a few. Evergreen eye taking in everything, everything that was around him. 

Those eyes of his came across a man made of granite and shadows. Who dipped and tripped through the forest with a bristling of fur and large paw steps.

Holy mother of pearl. he murmued to himself as he eyed the male. @Glaukos He was huge. And in pure Alaric fashion he sidled up with a grin and a wink. If allowed he'd toss a paw around the beasts large imposing shoulders of rockface. That could probably crush him if he wasn't careful, but oh a way to go.

Hey Fella. Having a grand time? Did you talk to any pretty ladies yet? Or maybe the fellas are more your taste?

He placed a paw near his maw and studied them all. I'm Alaric by the way.

Glaukos took to counting the menfolk as he watched them. He attributed names based on small factors; the Jester (Chakliux) was animate at all times, while the Ice Man (Kannoyak) was the opposite. There were others — but it was this more recent addition who came from the shadows, which surprised Glaukos the most.

He was obnoxious, and made to grab for Glaukos in a way the man did not appreciate. He did not like the grating quality of his voice either. It all happened so quickly - and so Glaukos mentally titled this man Whirlwind; and after a beat, grimaced towards him.

As the man threw all of his attention upon Glaukos, the soldier tensed as if he might become infected or somehow corrupted by the strange energies showcased to him. Alaric introduced himself - and Glaukos only grunted a stern, I did not ask.

Alaric would  get to know the other's as he moved about. But this one had drawn his curiosity for a moment. There was something about the bold faced man. Heavy handed, but he bet if given the right circumstances that stern countenance would break open and rainbows would fall out, but eh he could be wrong.

Such a long face. On a night of such revelry. The last part was yelled, and he winked at a couple of the pretty ladies near the edges. You want me to introduce you to a few? Handsome guy like you, they'll be tripping over themselves.

Tch such a long face. Ah you didn't ask, but you didn't say no either. Do i get a name in return or should i just call you stone? It fits. Maybe Stone Cold? Or oh I know. Granite. You look like a granite. I could call you smalls?

He laughed at his own joke. Get it smalls, cause you are definitely. Alaric eyed him and made a measurement with a paw. Whew definitely not small.

Revelry was not something Glaukos had any experience with, nor was he allowed to partake, which begged the question - why was he here? He could turn and leave at any point. He should leave. These were not his people, this was not his custom, and he knew the rules.

This man was buzzing around him like a particularly loud mosquito. Glaukos wanted very much to crush him underheel so that he would stop his incessant noise, but instead he merely flashed his front teeth as a warning.

If it would make the man stop, he would have to speak up.
Glaukos. The man shifted his weight in to a step or two, hoping to get away from this Alaric, and then came to rest like some stone homunculi losing momentum; his attention wandered between the women.

This wolf had something up his rear. A stick most likely. But he would not get the attention of the women his eyes kept flitting too, if he didn't loosen up a touch. Just a touch really. Alaric knew he was being annoying, but he didn't rightly care. If it made this wolf step out of his comfort zone and maybe have a wife at the end of it. Well then it was worth it.

Glaukos. I still like smalls, but the name suits you. Strong. Full bodied.

Alaric's gaze went out to the females. The white Sialuk, or the creamy one that had been the first to arrive. The deer dancer. Which one takes your fancy? I can be your wing man? yea Help you out little, cause no offense, but you're a bit. Umm stiff.

Alaric had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at his own bawdy humor. It wasn't true obviously this one was the epitome of control, but Alaric bet you get the right woman, and he seemed to be liking the women. He'd come undone and unwravel and would make a lovely lover.

The man did not stop. He appeared to like the sound of his own voice quite a lot. Glaukos listened to the distant chatter of voices as the women spoke to the men, or the men called out in their way and danced, and was otherwise preoccupied with watching things unfold.
It would not matter if one did, he answered grimly. I am a soldier. I am not... Permitted.
He doubted Alaric would understand concepts such as honor, duty, or decency; he was not here to be the fun police, or to stop him from cavorting through this gathering like a butterfly tasting each flower — but it was not something that Glaukos could allow of himself. He was watching and learning, and nothing more.

Alaric didn't like his own voice exactly, but he did enjoy talking. But who didn't? That was his question? And frankly this was how he survived, by talking, teaching, story telling. There was quite a swelling of voice and laugher. So he could see how this would be an issue for someone who wasn't used to it.

Because you're a soldier? So your leader makes it that duty is more important than love? But isn't love a type of duty too? And isn't it an honor to earn the love of a good woman or man if you swing towards the latter? Listen I've met soldiers in my life and some of the only reason they had managed to stay alive, was because they had a reason at home to stay alive. Just saying.

The dark male held up his front paws in a don't yell at the messenger gesture. Then he frowned. If nothing else maybe you can learn some new fighting moves from the dancing. Dancing is pretty good show of athleticism, grace and maneuvers. You have to have a lot of control to dance.

Glaukos wasn't sure what the man was on about. He was certain now that Alaric was speaking more for himself than any real audience, and the soldier would let him go on speaking if that was his wish. That also meant he would be forced to listen to whatever flowed from Alaric, whether it be a river of wisdom or a bit of broken plumbing set to spoil the event.
However, the more he went on the more Glaukos did understand. Although he had nothing comparable, he could see the value in those words. He thought of Germanicus who had one wife, then another; he thought of Kallik who had Aquene and their children; he thought of Tamar, Arsenio — all of these people he had encountered during his service, each stronger for who they chose to protect.
Who did Glaukos protect? Himself. He had always been made to fight for everything he'd ever needed to survive - and with his contract to Germanicus and the vows he'd taken, he'd not thought about anything beyond his work. His mind wandered while Alaric rambled —
Dancing is a pretty good show of athleticism, grace and maneuvers. You have to have a lot of control to dance.
He gave a grunt of acknowledgement but did not speak again to the loud man, but his attention did linger upon the men who danced and played their games, and Glaukos appeared less invested in the conversation as a whole. His focus was on many other things.

It was clear he wasn't listening. Though towards the end it was clear some of what he was saying, was getting through and that wasn't nothing. THough as the granite stone man, Smalls as Alaric had christened him in his mind listened, he was also watching. So with a small smile. Alaric said one last thing.

Go talk to one or two. Your commander didn't say you couldn't have a conversation right. Then he'd disappear into the shadows again and find his next conversation.