By the time Kuno got around to answering his question, Reiner forgot what he'd asked. He furrowed his brow in the initial moment of confusion, before context clues reminded him that he'd asked about the twice heard quote.
"Heh..." He nodded, comprehending. "I get it. It just sounds so old-timey, so I figured it was from a play or somethin'." He shrugged one shoulder. The explanation of it having started as a joke at the expense of well-heeled officers seemed to track. The over-educated elite often spoke in more flowery terms than guys like Kuno and Reiner.
He chuckled at the riposte to his comment on the possibility of their mission objective having command of the winds. He thought to jest about the possibility of Vonnegut being an elemental witch, but thought better of it now that they were drawing closer to her lair. Even with no one yet in sight, there were means of listening in on approaching marks.
As they were greeted at the entrance, Reiner hid his surprise aptly enough. Surprise was, after all, the only thing he'd been prepped to expect. He followed the officer on welcome duty, and did his best not to look overly curious as he made a quick, arguably tactical, scan of his surroundings upon entering Vonnegut's suite.
"Just black coffee, if you have it. Water's fine, if not." He pursed his lips and nodded his head, adding: "Thank you." as an afterthought. Reiner still wasn't hungry. As ravenous as he could be in galleys or mess halls, his nerves were still on high alert. Coffee probably wasn't even a good idea, but alcohol seemed indulgent as tempting as it was, tea seemed prissy, water seemed boring and declining anything at all, he thought, would broadcast that he was nervous. He took all this for a test, and black coffee was what a man drank until it was late enough in the day to venture into the liquor cabinet.
Reiner did a double-take at the female officer who arrived to conduct them to the commander. His eyes looked her up and down as if of their own volition, even as he willed them to remain on her face. He set his beverage down on the table, and rose to his feet gesturing for her to lead the way. When she turned to oblige, he didn't feel quite as bad when his gaze trailed down and lingered, since she couldn't see him do it.
By the time they drew up to Vonnegut's desk, he was all business. Eyes straight ahead, he saluted before he even ventured a downward glimpse at the seated commander. Only when she spoke and invited them to sit, did he regard her face as he seated himself. Ohhh, he thought comprehending the nickname for the first time: The Vixen. With that description, why had it never occurred to him that she'd be hot? He hadn't envisioned her as unattractive, he'd just anticipated someone... older. Sharper-featured. The Vixen was... not that.
After a pause that lingered just on the verge of being too long, he cleared his throat.
"Yes, ma'am. A missive..." He reached across his torso to open his satchel and withdraw the letter, "...from Minister Dornkirk." He thought to clarify, in case this was one of the forts that was still very in the dark and unaware of the First Minister's demise, "The elder."
"Heh..." He nodded, comprehending. "I get it. It just sounds so old-timey, so I figured it was from a play or somethin'." He shrugged one shoulder. The explanation of it having started as a joke at the expense of well-heeled officers seemed to track. The over-educated elite often spoke in more flowery terms than guys like Kuno and Reiner.
He chuckled at the riposte to his comment on the possibility of their mission objective having command of the winds. He thought to jest about the possibility of Vonnegut being an elemental witch, but thought better of it now that they were drawing closer to her lair. Even with no one yet in sight, there were means of listening in on approaching marks.
As they were greeted at the entrance, Reiner hid his surprise aptly enough. Surprise was, after all, the only thing he'd been prepped to expect. He followed the officer on welcome duty, and did his best not to look overly curious as he made a quick, arguably tactical, scan of his surroundings upon entering Vonnegut's suite.
"Just black coffee, if you have it. Water's fine, if not." He pursed his lips and nodded his head, adding: "Thank you." as an afterthought. Reiner still wasn't hungry. As ravenous as he could be in galleys or mess halls, his nerves were still on high alert. Coffee probably wasn't even a good idea, but alcohol seemed indulgent as tempting as it was, tea seemed prissy, water seemed boring and declining anything at all, he thought, would broadcast that he was nervous. He took all this for a test, and black coffee was what a man drank until it was late enough in the day to venture into the liquor cabinet.
Reiner did a double-take at the female officer who arrived to conduct them to the commander. His eyes looked her up and down as if of their own volition, even as he willed them to remain on her face. He set his beverage down on the table, and rose to his feet gesturing for her to lead the way. When she turned to oblige, he didn't feel quite as bad when his gaze trailed down and lingered, since she couldn't see him do it.
By the time they drew up to Vonnegut's desk, he was all business. Eyes straight ahead, he saluted before he even ventured a downward glimpse at the seated commander. Only when she spoke and invited them to sit, did he regard her face as he seated himself. Ohhh, he thought comprehending the nickname for the first time: The Vixen. With that description, why had it never occurred to him that she'd be hot? He hadn't envisioned her as unattractive, he'd just anticipated someone... older. Sharper-featured. The Vixen was... not that.
After a pause that lingered just on the verge of being too long, he cleared his throat.
"Yes, ma'am. A missive..." He reached across his torso to open his satchel and withdraw the letter, "...from Minister Dornkirk." He thought to clarify, in case this was one of the forts that was still very in the dark and unaware of the First Minister's demise, "The elder."