Dusk, outside

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart is outside, watching the early sunset.

He's not shooting anything right now. The black fur rug he was making is finished.

Instead, he stands, with a mug of mulled wine in his hands, feet planted deep in the snow, and watches the daylight fade into the odd brownish yellow typical for snow clouds, and then, darkness falling, along with more snow.

It settles on his shoulders and in his hair.

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[young_womble]

There is a rustling in the bushes.

[scots_wolf]

Under his cloak, Urquahrt's hand slides towards the crossbow. While he doesn't move his head, his eyes quietly wander towards the bush that rustled.

It might be an animal. Or a harmless patron. He's not going to shoot first and ask questions afterwards. That's unprofessional.

But he is prepared.

[young_womble]

The bush moves again, shakes off a load of snow, and then the Womble's nose peeps out.

[scots_wolf]

Oh -- is it a hedgehog?

Urquhart takes his hand off his crossbow, but keeps watching the bush with the little nose sticking out among the snow.

[young_womble]

Bigger than a hedgehog.

The Womble tentatively peeps out, then sees the crossbow, and hides back in again.

The bush trembles.

[scots_wolf]

"I'm not going to shoot you," Urquhart says to the bush. "I don't harm small harmless creatures that work in the kitchen."

[young_womble]

The nose peeps out again.

"Ah, it's only you." Wellington says.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart laughs so hard, he sits in the snow and spills his mulled wine, which causes a pale pink spot in the whiteness.

[young_womble]

Wellington blinks at him.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks, poking his whole head out now.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart shakes his head, laughing too hard to answer.

[young_womble]

Wellington inches out of the bush and peers at him, wiping the snow off his glasses.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart snorts with amusement.

[young_womble]

"Is my appearance comical to you?"

[lt-blade.livejournal.com]

If there's anything that makes this place tolerable-it's the sunsets and the sunrises. They didn't have those in Outworld, atleast not as noticable or this awesome.

She's taking an evening stroll, not something she's wont to do-she prefers running-but it's too nice an evening to waste.

[scots_wolf]

There is a woman, taking a stroll.

Urquhart notices her. He turns his head and nods to her, in greeting.

Quite a nice-looking woman.

[lt-blade.livejournal.com]

She's already seen the man ahead of her, nodding back to him in acknowledgement.

Sonya would've felt a little flattered if he thought her 'nice-looking': lately she's found it an accomplishment if she could manage 'human-looking.

[scots_wolf]

Nicely built woman with long blonde hair, an interesting face, and apparently all the right female parts, while tough and a bit war-like? Nice-looking and potentially interesting.

Urquhart's curiosity is piqued.

"Good evening," he says, politely, the Scottish accent on his voice quite noticeable.

[lt-blade.livejournal.com]

"Evening." She couldn't help but grin actually. The man looked like something from an old warrior myth-the scottish accent and smell of mulled wine only made it more solid.

"Mind sharing some of that?" She wasn't much of a drinker, but then wine wasn't that hard-and besides, she make have a tolerance for cold weather but she still felt it.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart smiles and hands her his mug of mulled wine.

"I put in a dash of the strong stuff," he said. "Hope you don't mind."

It's spiced and honeyed red wine, still rather hot, and with the merest breath of smoky scotch mixed in.

[lt-blade.livejournal.com]

She takes the mug, covering the surface with her hands.

Far from minding, she took a deep breath before taking a sip.

"Thanks." She said, her voice a little quiet thanks to the scotch. Good lord that hit the spot.

Sonya handed the mug back.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart takes a sip as well. "Helps against the cold," he says.

[lt-blade.livejournal.com]

"It does." Not that it was something she really had to worry about-most of the places she was stationed had mild winters and intense summers. However, a special forces agent had to be prepared for all sorts of extreme weather.

"Sonya Blade." She held out her hand.

[scots_wolf]

"Urquhart," he says, shaking her hand.

[lt-blade.livejournal.com]

He had a good grip and was clearly a warrior of some sort.

If Sonya weren't focused on trying to gain back some muscle weight, she'd love to have a sparring session with him. As it was, he looked like he could put up a good fight when she was at her best, and right now, she was still working on that.

"From Scottland?" She wasn't the most social of people, but she had a talent for recognizing accents. Even then, this was said at a guess-he could've very well been from Scottland but living somewhere else.

[scots_wolf]

"Originally," Urquhart says. "And you?"