Spare the Sympathy [Jasper]

Hunt shook his head. It was bloody cold out and the man seemed to take some sort of stupid pride in sitting out here next to him. Or maybe it was some form of wayward sympathy and friendship that kept him here. The later was all the more dangerous a thought. Even with his innate ability to regulate his body temperature, the man didn't think it was that cold. He supposed he wore a lot of layers amd wasn't as inclined to notice.

He massaged his throat gently, continuing to breathe slowly. He frowned at the teasing. He supposed he should have expected the man to rise to a joke. He didn't seem the particularly serious sort if he could help it.

The snort made him stop, turning to narrow his eyes at him. Clearly he had understood something of what he said. While Hunt might not be allow in his homeland any longer, he still valued tradition. Clearly the Prince did not if he had sought out someone whining to stoop to teaching him words. The language of Taknier was a sacred bond and source of pride. A signifier of citizenship and proof of dedication. The Prince did not share that.

"I'll be fine. We should go back inside," he said, watching the man shiver and tuck his hand sunder his arms. He imagined ordering the man inside alone would not fly of a number of reasons but he personal found it disrespectful to even consider. Hunt wasn't certain what else the man wanted from him, but he would very much like to sit down and relax to catch his breath. "You can keep the rest of...whatever that was to yourself," he added with a grumble.

The scout got the door, not anymore comfortable with the damp than the other man. But his ignored it. At the very least, someone should pay for their food and drinks before. Now if only he could convince himself that was why he wanted to be here.

He grimaced. Potatoes and salt weren't the problem but local cooking styles probably were. He didn't typically get very adventurous with his food options. Not to mention most of what he did eat was game or local farm animals that they roasted over a fire. "More for you," he noted instead. H3 hesitated, waiting until Jasper seated himself before also sitting back down again. If this was what the man meant by being normal, hopefully it was what he expected.

He did take another drink, if just to taste something else and rinse his mouth out. He leaned back and folded his arms expectantly. The Prince was the one so eager to converse. Hunt was only here because it would be irresponsible for him to leave the man alone. Not that Jasper couldn't order him to. "What else?"

Unfortunately for Hunt and fortunately for the Prince, Hunt was just as relieved to be indoors and stirring down as the other man. Perhaps not for the cold, but between the debating he had subjected himself to and now his poor reaction to the food, he needed the breather. Which did indeed leave him sitting across from a man he was more and more uncomfortable with.

It wasn't as if the Prince had done anything to him. Even outside, as close as he sat, as much as he had probably itched to place a more comforting hand on his shoulder, he hadn't so much as touched him.

Hunt sighed and pushed his drink a bit away so he could rest his elbows on the the table, relaxing more for his own sake, but he supposed it did indicate some level of acceptance. He shifted his gaze away at the mention of his eyes. Anything but that last one.

"There's not much tell," he said, proving no matter how relaxed he looked, he still maintained the wall between them. Whatever Jasper wanted, he wasn't getting it from Hunt. His social status was useful there. "Exile's don't have a family. We are forbidden of speaking if who or what we were before." Hunt said it softly but there was a bit of venom there. Distaste. "Eight months ago, I traveled to Valur, spent a week drinking and then enlisted as an officer." Like any other commoner. He supposed that didn't help him avoid harassment; most noblemen were officers. To have a commoner rank above them was sure to prickle.

Hunt spoke as if the Prince wasn't aware of that particular bit of Taknieri "law" to do with exile. It was less a law however and more…a compulsion. He was aware this was intended to be a more personal question but Hunt hated assumptions about himself.

So… "I suppose you should tell me about yourself," he said, leaning backward, arms folded over his chest. "Something no one knows about the Prince of Manthir."

Even had he wanted to, it wasn't as if he could just talk about his life. Not before, anyway. As for talking about now...he wouldn't claim his life was all that exciting or joyful these days.

Hunt wasn't sure the man's fascination with his eyes. He supposed, just like in Taknier, lighter eye colors were rare here. The Prince wasn't the first person to be intrigued or even attracted to them. But after years of being looked down on and having it treated as a weakness, even when he had worked hard to get around that, it was difficult to push those emotions aside. Besides, he wasn't interested in being stared at. Whether the man was teasing him or flirting, he didn't want to know.

He snorted as the man said he hated dancing. He could believe it. Just because he likely did it a lot and was potentially good at it, didn't mean he had to like it. "I happen to like your dirges," he suggested. Certainly not party music of any kind. "Don't know that I have ever been to a party." Not much to celebrate at the moment. He got the feeling the Prince found a lot of his routine and privileged life too stiff and confined. Seeing as he had ordered away his guards to be here.

Hunt frowned. The mere idea that the Prince might throw a party just for him was almost laughable. He didn't think for a moment such a thing would happen. Though the note of misery loving company struck a bit deeper. He grunted. Was that why the man wouldn't leave him alone? He looked like some miserable puppy to him? That said, the Prince seemed less and less happy himself.

He glanced over at the hint of him leaving. The man had just returned from abroad. Odd, especially when they were essentially at war. He wanted to ask where the man was going this time, but he held his tongue on the topic. "I'm not interested in a party," he said. "Music and dancing aside, someone like me with a personal invitation from the Prince sounds like a death sentence." Perhaps not physically though, otherwise he might find that more appealing. The idea of so many nobles, potentially from Taknier as well...he was actively uninterested.

Hunt just looked at him, slowly raising one eyebrow. That didn't make any sense. Wait. The Prince really was flirting with him, wasn't he? For the love of the four Cardinal directions, how was this happening right now? How had the man picked him out of all the people? Why had he stayed for that training session? Why was he so compelled to accompany the man after he ditched his guards?

If he was being honest with himself, he was a glutton for self-punishment. Deserved or otherwise. Uncomfortable as he might be, he had allowed this to happen. Wanted it to, maybe.

"I think you have me confused with someone who does things for fun," he said a bit more sharply, leaned back in the booth. The snappy reply indicated he had the capacity to be a lot more witty and conversational if he wanted to, but he simply didn't want to. Forming attachments, or letting others form them with him, was largely undesirable. "I'm a soldier. I fight for a living and get drunk for fun," he said, though the words sounded more like he was borrowing them from someone else.