On days like these, when the sun’s heat was near unbearable, Embric asked Aine to help keep them, but especially him, cool. Long hours spent sweating under a mercilessly cloudless sky had resulted in longer hours directed experimenting with Aine in an attempt to find some way to use her magic to keep them at least a tad more comfortable. In the end, it had been a mistake that led to success: some lazy practice with playing with the light from the campfire in front of them had resulted in something else, whatever it was that made him feel the heat of the flames, being manipulated instead. Even now, years later, Embric still wasn’t exactly sure what it was that Aine was changing to lessen the sun’s heat, but whatever it was, it inexplicably worked.

So even without trying to transport two barrels at one time - Ermir, really? - he was a lot more comfortable than the man who called out to him as he rounded the corner. Letting the hood of his cloak fall entirely from his head, he looked around at the sound of his name and quickly spotted the tavern owner, who he knew only well enough to trust that his heart was in the right place. “Hello there,” He said as he approached, somewhat bemused by the scene before him. “Ermir, you don’t seem to have thought this through all the way.” The neutral observation was spoken with, if anything, more mild amusement than any attempt to insult or criticize, but any possible hurt might have been tempered by the way he reached out to take one of the barrels even as the words left his mouth. “Are you taking these back to the tavern?”

As perhaps was to be expected of a man who owned a tavern, Ermir had a warmth to him that welcomed conversation, and he seemed like the kind of man who could make friends easily. Certainly there was a familiarity in the way he greeted Embric, despite them having interacted only a handful of times previously, that the older man had grown unaccustomed to hearing as of late. “It’s no trouble,” He said with a slight nod and a small smile. Despite the proverbial storm clouds that were gathering on the horizon and growing ever more ominous as the end of the season drew near, the other man seemed to be in a decent mood, laughing easily at Embric’s bland statement. With the rest of the city, himself included, becoming increasingly apprehensive about the looming storm, the relatively light-hearted reaction felt like a breath of fresh air.

He could respect a man for his ability to laugh during times like these, especially a man like Ermir, who always seemed to be busy doing something to try to help as many people as he could - even if it was only by providing a refuge where one could get a drink and try to forget the horrors of the day. “I suppose you can be forgiven for that, just this once.” The words were as dry as the wood under his hands. As he began lugging one of the barrels toward the tavern, Embric added lightly, “And you seem to be a rather capable man, so I’m sure there are those who would find it comforting to know that you do, indeed, have your limits.” He didn’t say much after that; dragging heavy barrels through the streets was not a time for idle conversation as far as he was concerned.

Taking off from his shoulder as the movement jostled her, Aine told him that the only reason he thought that was because he was getting old and didn’t want his younger companion to see him so out of breath. Embric idly reminded her that she had no room to judge, considering he didn’t see her performing any physical labor herself. She sent the mental equivalent of a huff down their bond, and he sent a fond and mildly exasperated smile back.

Instead, he let his thoughts wander. The man had a family, too. Two children, and the oldest was around half of Kasni’s age, if Embric recalled correctly (which he usually did). Though the idea of children so young growing up under Eldouir rule had nausea coiling in his gut, it was the memories of his children when they were that age that he lingered on. He remembered well the relentless energy and desire to do and did not envy Ermir the task of trying to raise them where the safe places to run were few and far between. Once they had reached the tavern, he paused and looked over at the other man. “Where would you like this?” And if he was a little winded, then, well, he could ignore the smugness emanating from the falcon circling above.

“That would be much appreciated.” Embric would never say no to a drink, so he tapped the barrel one last time with his hand, extending his other arm from Aine to land on, and trailed after Ermir. Thanks to whatever twist of fate had landed them in the sights of the Eldouir, it was no secret that they could all use a wagon-load of drinks these days, but with the sun still high in the sky and monsters in human skin roaming the streets, he would have to settle for one, maybe two. It was unwise to be incapacitated these days, and alcohol had a way of removing every trace of subtlety.

More out of habit than anything else, dark eyes glanced around the tavern as he and Aine made their way over to the bar, noting the handful of patrons scattered around the space. A few of them were talking to each other in low voices - Aine tilted her head curiously, but unless it involved the Eldouir or anyone was being threatened, Embric felt no need to pry - but most just seemed to seek the refuge and sense of normalcy that Ermir’s little tavern provided. As they reached the bar, Aine flew over to perch on a nearby shelf, and Embric settled down on an empty stool, resting his arms on the counter. If Ermir asked his preferences, he would offer his usual “Whatever’s easiest”, otherwise he would reach out for whatever was set before him. When the other man returned, he sipped his drink and observed, “It seems like you’re doing well here.” As well as any of them could, at least, which, strictly speaking, was not technically well. He cast another glance around the tavern. “Hopefully business here isn’t keeping you away from the kids too much.”

While Ermir chuckled and questioned his word choice, Embric could only lift a shoulder in a shrug as he conceded the point in good humor. It was a fair enough question, he supposed, though they both knew how little choice there was in these matters.

The sound of running feet, however, interrupted any other reply he might have offered, and the man turned to see Mayda skipping across the tavern. Only children jumped like that these days. The sight warmed his heart as much as it hurt it: the poor girl was happy, but only because she knew only Elderkeep and lacked the perspective to truly understand the horror of life within its makeshift walls.

At Ermir’s words, he took a sip and shook his head. “I can say neither my father nor I would have appreciated the extended company. She tries to hide it, but Kasni certainly grows tired of mine.”

“Not that we blame her,” Aine finished the thought, dark eyes resting on Ciel for a fraction of a second before continuing on to look around the rest of the tavern.

“She’s at that age now.“

“Where she’s ready to be - she should be - running across the plains with her dyr, so the lack of freedom and independence chafe even more.”

Embric glanced to the kitchen where Mayda disappeared before turning back to Ermir. “They grow up fast.”