Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-26108027-20180427214328/@comment-26383377-20180605102329

Akata smiled, taking seat next to Tiral, and leaning her elbow on her knee. She reached into her coat and brought out a sizeable flask, with a weathered Ostoran label plastered onto it.

She bit the cork off, which was tied to the bottle by a thin string, and took a sip of the contents. She let out a quiet sigh, and then offered the flask to Tiral. “Dyrellian wine, from the freezing north. Wine squeezed from the grapes of Dyrell are blessed with everlasting cold. Here, have a sip!”