Date: 2022-12-21 03:17 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] virtuesignal
Gifts do not require occasion. [Concord says simply as he passes the bottle over, letting it weigh down into his palm, stem his way to hand it off. That's all he has to say on the matter upfront, passing through the doorway and into the office. He feels particularly large in any space that Ali curated for himself. The unicorn was not meant for hidden lairs and dens, but wide open spaces.

Like those spaces, he somehow always smelled of a forest, even if he too had been out all day without cleaning up. His pressed uniform is creased and worn in on his figure by now, hair slightly more wild than usual, though he was far from disheveled. He seats himself where he can, taking the scroll from beneath his arm to open. Green eyes cross over the lines to reread it before presenting, a reminder of what was there precisely, so he didn't say anything wrong.]


I asked around each brigade and noted their desired price to work, rather than attend the festival. You can puzzle out a budget from that, yes? [that is what Ali is best at, isn't it? Making sense of too many numbers. Concord did the legwork of getting the data, it's up to the dragon to work with it, like ingredients for a chef. Concord sees these things in quaint terms, having little grasp of numbers as their own concept]
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