[Past] You, Me and a Pitcher of Cream

Nairn watched from afar, scowling into his ale. He was too far from them to hear anything said, and that only made his scowl deepen. He's never been so against Ruth meeting any of the new girls before; he's never minded if the other elf wound up in their beds, either. But this one...

He sighed, waiting anxiously as he tried to surmise what was going on. When Ruth started to make his way back to him, Nairn raised his eyebrows. At the news that she turned him down, Nairn snorted. Did she? Smart girl. Must've recognized you for what you are, player. He bumped shoulders with his friend.

Not often you get turned away, though. It didn't surprise him that Megara would rather talk to those she already knew. She didn't come across as overly anxious to befriend any and all. She didn't give you nothing for me, Ruthie. Don't tease. He grumbled, straightening on his stool. And if she did, it's somethin' I left in her space.