#i havent written gen reader shit in so long

[manicpixie-tieflingboyfriend]

These days within the Grove were stressful to say the least.

Zevlor had been doing his best to keep spirits high, everyone could tell, especially yourself. Despite his stress and strain, he has been as busy as all the rest, if not more so.

Today was no exception. You'd been out with a few of the others, searching the immediate area for wild foods, hunting, managing to get enough for something other than gruel for once. Almost immediately after walking into the hollow, Zevlor is there, relieving two of your foraging group of their finds and gently demanding they go rest.

You walk with him down the slope to the left, the other member of your group hastening behind as the three of you beeline to the cook pot just across from Dammon's forge.

Another act of kindness, selflessness, as he asks the older tiefling that slaves over the camp's rations to sit and rest just nearby. He asks you to set down your contribution, the few wild rabbits, before implore you to rest as well.

“Don’t you think you ought to rest as well, Zevlor?” Is the response you always give him.

To wit he always replies, “My rest will come when my people are safe.”

The conversation ends there as he begins to work even more, dressing the rabbits and preparing the wild vegetables, and that when he begins to do something you didn’t know he could. Zevlor, the ever stalwart commander of the Hellriders of Elturel, can cook? It shouldn’t come as such a shock, really, but perhaps that’s because you’ve only ever seen the grey gruel bowls being handed out.

It’s a wonder to watch, and soon enough the others all begin to gather round and rest, hunkering in to take in the smells of fresh food, destined to warm their souls. The children were especially excited, the sight brings a smile to your lips, only to have it curiously dashed once more.

Zevlor is speaking to the children it seems, but it’s a language you can only pick bits and pieces out of. Infernal? The children seem so enraptured, and it isn’t until one of the other refugees lets you know that he’s recounting a tale long since passed, from Elturel, during his time as a proud Hellrider. Even if you don’t know the words, you can’t help but smile as the little ones brighten.

A few tales later and many happy faces and warm, full bellies later, everyone slowly scatters, returning to their business. You catch a glimpse of Zevlor one last time as he heads to the gate of the grove likely to relieve one of the guards for the evening.

You shake your head silently as you help the others clean up, before heading to the gate yourself. Zevlor can berate you all he likes, you’ll just have to try to not mention the way his tail sways after he’s finished his lecture, as always.

@falcatamandarina