Saber's hand froze halfway to the bar and he chuckled nervously, drawing back and looking back at the bard with a sheepish grin. Cookies? His stomach started to growl at the thought of such a delicacy--yes, they certainly sounded good right about now. The Bard had a point. The mercenary lost himself in thoughts of warm baked goods for a few moments before the realization hit him--the closest thing he had done to baking was accidentaly dropping a fish off the spit and into the fire. He wouldn't be much help at all--but as he opened his mouth to speak, Aiden leapt away towards Kuro, her mind obviously set. It seemed it would take her some time to round up enough assistants...and he felt a little cold. Moving over to the fireplace, he attempted to find a spot to squeeze in an arm or a leg, hoping to warm himself one limb at a time. He found a space between two men--one, he noticed, was wearing an odd sweatshirt with some sort of brown animal sewn to the front--and stuck his hand through, feeling around blindly for the flames.

OOC: This reminds me, I still need to drop off the cookies sometime.

Kuro stared at the window nearest to him, wishing the snow would melt quickly and it would warm up some outside. This was probably the first time Kuro had ever actually hated the snow, because it confined him to this stupid inn with absolutely nothing to do.

That is, until Aiden approached him wanting help in the kitchen. Kuro thought over the offer for a while. He wasn't a good cook, and didn't have very much experience at it, but what harm could some cooking do? It certainly couldn't kill anyone. At least, Kuro hoped it wouldn't. He hadn't ever given the stuff he made to anyone else though. Cooking was certainly better than sitting around doing nothing, though.

"Alright," Kuro said as he stood up. "I guess I'll help." He reached for his sword again and strapped it once more to his back. He took a moment to stretch, since he had been sitting for a while, then reached for a bottle of water that was strapped to his belt, and took a drink. It wasn't the greatest thing to drink in the cold weather, but he was thirsty, so water would have to do. "What are we gonna make?" Kuro asked as he placed the bottle back to where it had been.

OoC: Oh, er, sorry. It's just when someone's on their on and there's no stopping a post, right? And even, it's not like it's two whole pages of us just talking.

IC: Keychain frowned. No Luis. Again. She was starting to lose her confidence that he could still be around. But there something about Aqua. What about Aqua? Keychain couldn't help but to feel bad that Aqua was somehow involved in all this. She started it all, she didn't know how or why, but she couldn't involve her friends.

Her distraction was from the cat. She squealed loud at what it was doing. "Wh-what?" she gasped. She scowled lightly at Seth, though. Even in a moment that she should be worrying at the dark circle was angry at the boy.

Those cookies were starting to sound nice too.

OOC: What significance to Christmas have in Hyrule, as Christ was never born in Hyrule? Thus, Christmas as we know it, or just the celebration of Christ's birth, would never actually happen in Hyrule. So obviously, we'd need a different winter holiday, one unique to the heritage of the World of Hyrule. Oh well, another dilemma for another day. But, seriously, when does this occur on the timeline?

IC: "Damn it," she muttered. She hated the fact he wasn't there. Her love, her Orphy. She could think of so many one-liners, so many brilliantly cunning one-liners. Plus, she just enjoyed toying with him. Deep done inside, she might have meant them. Love was so confusing. He was away, in a mission somewhere in the Ruto Highlands. She just hoped it was alright. But she hated not being with him. She just wished someone she knew fairly well was here. She used to love solitude. But ever since she met him, ever since she entered Hyrule, she didn’t like being alone. She just wasn’t that comfortable with the landscape yet. Being in Hyrule alone just made her uneasy.

“Hey Sil,” stated a man in a dense cloak, walking up to her and sitting beside her. His voice was warm, and his appearance was just as friendly. Mark “Ryan” Stewart was his name. He was a curator at a museum in North Castle. His house was filled with as many antiques as the museum was, and much of the museum was actually donated from items that belonged to him. His mansion sat near the heart of North Castle, and was almost unmistakable. His first name at birth was Mark, but his father preferred to call him Ryan, his middle name, as it was his mother who named him Mark. As time progressed and he made up his own mind, he like the name Ryan as well, and preferred it over Mark, too. Thus, for the most part, everybody knew him by his middle name, Ryan.

She jumped at first, a little startled, but then smiled warmly back at him, greeting him with a wave. After he was firmly seated, she decided to just burrow her way into the space between his dense cloak, and the sides of his robes, taking advantage of the heat, as she was wearing simple battle robes, not packing ahead of time. She also insulated her skin with warm fur, but only on the skin covered already by cloth as to not freak out anybody sitting around her. Then again, she already had a fox tail. But, after much contemplation she decided she was warm enough as it was without the need for more fur.

This time it was Ryan’s turn to be shocked. Females don’t just cuddle with you without warning, ever. Then again, she probably was freezing to death. Still, it was awkward having an attractive woman, he wouldn’t deny that, it was simply a compliment, she just wasn’t his type, who was dating your friend cuddled up against your side. He simply shrugged, and soon, she was warm enough to retain heat herself, and promptly weaved her body back out. “Thanks,” she stated. He simply gave her a sideways glance, then shrugged again, as if saying, “What the hey?” Then something caught both of their eyes.

===

“Ross, less flirting, more planning,” whispered a commanding voiced figure in a shadowy cloak to another man dressed similarly who happened to be sitting amongst a horde of women. The man who made the whisper was well concealed, but the other had his hood down. He was shorter, maybe by a foot or a half, and had short blondish red hair.

“Vilk,” directed the man, obviously Ross, via whisper, “relax. We can’t get out of here. Just enjoy this thing and let it blow over.” The hooded figure, Vilk, shook his head in surrender, and went off to sit and write a plan on a scroll. Then, glancing over, he noticed Ryan and Silna, mouths gapped as they watched him. He got up, walked over to them, and the two immediately begin to search their persons’ for weapons, but found nothing. When he finally got there, the two put their hands up to surrender.

Vilk replied by slapping Ryan in the back of the head, but leaving Silna unharmed when she quickly withdrew her hands. “Truce,” he simply stated. “We have been detained from our mission, and, thus, are on break until this snow clears or we find a way out,” he added. The two were speechless as the most feared man in all of Hyrule simply walked away, leaving them unscathed.

===

“Din’s fire, it’s cold,” muttered a cloaked woman under her breath as she worked her way through the crowds. She was tall, roughly six feet, with a firm build and short black hair. She also was also well … developed. She needed to be. She was an assassin who used her…talents to get closer to her targets. She served under Roronek, and her name was Silvia.

Looking around, she noticed Worru, and walked over to him, smiling with a coy smile, sitting by him, and waiting for him to notice her.

Aiden smiled sweetly to Kuro, "Thanks! We'll make all kinds! Chocolate chip, sugar, peanut butter.. anything!" Eyes all lit up she giggled then bounced away, "Meet me in the kitchen, I have one more to volunteer."

Dashing away she slithered through the crowds and stilled infront of Worru. She eyed the many women with wide-eyed wariness before gathering up the nerve to complete her mission. It was odd, but in this moment she was more childish than the 'child'. "We're.. uh.. making cookies in the kitchen. Saber, Kuro, and I... you can join us."

With that she quickly backtracked then vanished into the kistch. Once there she slung an apron on and began to cluster all sorts of ingredients together. Over the door to get into the kitchen she stuck a bit of mistletoe. Humming a jolly tune she began to cook, or at the very least make a mess while waiting for her prey.

Jett was slowly sinking into a warm daze by the fire when suddenly an arm outstretched past him towards the crackling red fingers of flame. Being the first of the chilled adventurers to notice, despite his drowsy contentedness by that fire, the young scholar was quick to react.

“Hey there!” he reacted, quite startled by the interfering arm. As the outstretched fingers grew ever closer to the lashing barbs of flame before them, Jett felt he had an undeniable duty to the complete stranger to at least warn him of the impending holiday misfortune.

Quickly he grabbed Sabertache’s hand and pulled the boy into the front row of the fireplace, knocking a drunk or two about on either side of him, and certainly disrupting the more respectable adventurers gathered around. The line quickly reassembled itself around the pair of youths, and all drunken (and undrunken) merriment continued unperturbed thereafter.

Jett turned to Saber with a grin, and with that awkward sweater he had chosen to wear certainly would look like a small child, if he had not been about the same height as the mercenary whose fingers had been spared just then, that is.

“Best not to go sticking your fingers in uncharted territory, friend!” he jabbed humorously at the boy. “It would have been a sorry sight to see your hand burned on such a jolly (awful) occasion.”

Seeing it wise to not poke too much fun at Saber’s eagerness for warmth, for he too had been desperately cold only moments ago, he turned his head back towards the fire and was lost in its powerful grasp as he gazed into its fiery depths.