[ In answer to her question, he's just as freckled on his chest and shoulders as he is on his face; while he does wear protection when actively dealing with the dragons, most of what he does around the sanctuary is simply maintenance, and when it gets too hot to bother with clothing, off it comes. Which, when shoving dragon dung and repairing storage barns during the high summer, tends to happen quite often.
How Andrei would laugh at him teaching Luna the proper way to pronounce the name of Romanian alcohol, considering how poor his own accent is considered among natives. Still, the fact that she's making an effort endears her to some of his colleagues, who helpfully lean in to correct them both, and it certainly endears her to Charlie even more, leaving him smiling widely enough at her that the creases around his eyes become far more pronounced. ]
Those Slavs love their plum brandy, [ he agrees. ] It's your luck that there's no Slivovice here.
[ Much like any other man who makes a living doing manual labor and living more or less communally, Charlie isn't fussy at all about what he eats, and the tapas plates that are brought out are all approached with the same eager hunger, bits of fish and cheese and heavily pickled vegetables put away with the same enthusiasm. ]
Hm? Oh, er. Coming up to twelve years now, I think. Maybe thirteen. [ He accepts the small triangle of pita with some pinkish taramasalata scooped up on the edge and pops it fearlessly into his mouth without asking what it is he's eating, trusting. ] Oh that is nice. What do you think it is, fish? It's quite salty.
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How Andrei would laugh at him teaching Luna the proper way to pronounce the name of Romanian alcohol, considering how poor his own accent is considered among natives. Still, the fact that she's making an effort endears her to some of his colleagues, who helpfully lean in to correct them both, and it certainly endears her to Charlie even more, leaving him smiling widely enough at her that the creases around his eyes become far more pronounced. ]
Those Slavs love their plum brandy, [ he agrees. ] It's your luck that there's no Slivovice here.
[ Much like any other man who makes a living doing manual labor and living more or less communally, Charlie isn't fussy at all about what he eats, and the tapas plates that are brought out are all approached with the same eager hunger, bits of fish and cheese and heavily pickled vegetables put away with the same enthusiasm. ]
Hm? Oh, er. Coming up to twelve years now, I think. Maybe thirteen. [ He accepts the small triangle of pita with some pinkish taramasalata scooped up on the edge and pops it fearlessly into his mouth without asking what it is he's eating, trusting. ] Oh that is nice. What do you think it is, fish? It's quite salty.