Azwel does, indeed, arrange for a room because, if nothing else, anyone's energy will run out after a fight like he's had.
But that's not going to happen quite yet. In the meantime, drinks are indeed called for and after procuring them he leads Carden to a table tucked into a corner. There he sits and, before doing anything else, he unfastens the tiny catches and slips the gauntlets off. That same odd magickal hum cuts out as the circuit is broken. He peels off the gloves and arm-wrappings, revealing slight burns on the back of each wrist. He actually pauses and regards it for a moment. "Hm."
Then he takes a long drink. Clearly being cheered by alcohol is something that's always been true about him, because he grins at the idea Carden's putting forth.
However, the smile on Carden's face does send a few memories flickering through Azwel's mind, fleeting and indistinct. A few things stick, though.
"Those winter nights...." he muses, his gaze going distant for a moment. "It felt so good, the way we kept warm...." He blinks, then seems to come to a decision. He reaches out his left hand to grasp Carden's with it, on nothing more than the principle that like calls to like, wondering if the Spirit Sword energy still flickering in his skin would somehow connect with Carden's own magick.
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But that's not going to happen quite yet. In the meantime, drinks are indeed called for and after procuring them he leads Carden to a table tucked into a corner. There he sits and, before doing anything else, he unfastens the tiny catches and slips the gauntlets off. That same odd magickal hum cuts out as the circuit is broken. He peels off the gloves and arm-wrappings, revealing slight burns on the back of each wrist. He actually pauses and regards it for a moment. "Hm."
Then he takes a long drink. Clearly being cheered by alcohol is something that's always been true about him, because he grins at the idea Carden's putting forth.
However, the smile on Carden's face does send a few memories flickering through Azwel's mind, fleeting and indistinct. A few things stick, though.
"Those winter nights...." he muses, his gaze going distant for a moment. "It felt so good, the way we kept warm...." He blinks, then seems to come to a decision. He reaches out his left hand to grasp Carden's with it, on nothing more than the principle that like calls to like, wondering if the Spirit Sword energy still flickering in his skin would somehow connect with Carden's own magick.