Kushiel looked over at Shahrizai skeptically. A little lukewarm, huh? He didn’t think so. Not even from a dude would Kushiel buy that. Unless he turned back around and saw a group of ladies he hadn’t seen before bathing in the oasis, the other man would just have to take what he could get.
“Even after what I’ve been through, I’m Grade A meat, buddy.” If pressed, Kushiel would be completely unable to explain why he felt the need to demand nothing less than admiration from a man he’d never met, and would likely not see again anytime soon. It was just who he was. Boasting was as reflexive as breathing.
He was, however, pacified by the wink. At least he was making some attempt to humor him. That’s all Kushiel really required. A good sport. He nodded briskly and went back to surveying his surroundings. It really was rather…dry here. Now, Kushiel had no problem with dry, it was a lot better than wet (nothing burned when wet) but this was overdoing it a little.
“So, was all the fertile land taken or is all the sand a metaphor? Does it represent the cleansing of your soul or something equally ridiculous? Some kind of ritualistic thing, perhaps?” Clearly, Kushiel didn’t understand the meaning of a desert. Why did beach sand feel so relaxing while this sand felt like miles and miles of punishment?
Kushiel squinted at Shahrizai, again skeptically, and tried to discern if he was hiding something from him. A forest grove perhaps? Unfortunately, it turned out the other man was hiding something from him. Except that thing was even more unpleasant than the sand. Kushiel saw the man dog beast charge at him and made an alarmed noise. Some might have called it a scream, but Kushiel would have described it as a manly bellow. The beast ran right up to his ankles and the stallion danced back, spraying sand and cursing.
“God, what is that thing? It’s awful.” Again, his voice wasn’t supposed to come out as high and shrieky as it did, and he would have preferred husky. In his time in the Chamber, Kushiel had gotten used to strange things. An eternally burning tree? no problem. A beating heart beneath the earth? Why not? This dog however, was not really his cup of tea. He had, after all, signed up to be a diplomat. He thought that was a job that required a lot of talking, not a lot of listening, and all the grandstanding he could muster. He didn’t except to have to actually confront things.
“Can you make it, Gumbo, go away?” Gumby, however, seemed to have no intention of leaving. He growled ferociously even as Kushiel made the request, and the stallion shook his front foot experimentally at the dog to see if it could be intimated.
Gumby was not, and took a bite at Kushiel’s fetlock.
((OOC: sorry this took so long! My brain is made of pudding this week))