***
“I already took a bath!” Pird protested before Eris tossed him into the canal. Pird took a moment in the air to marvel at his redheaded friend's unnatural strength before smacking into the cool water. He tumbled underneath for a moment before orienting himself and kicking out toward the surface. A cool, cynical voice met him as he broke from the water.
“We do have a pool.”
Pird looked up to the low bridge over him to see a young man leaning on the railing. He wore his dark hair moderately long, accenting his permanent expression of mild irritation and contempt. Gray slacks, an odd color against Eretia’s white buildings and colorful people, complemented his loose shirt. Over one shoulder he wore what looked like a messenger bag, but Pird knew that messengers typically didn’t carry a selection of herbs and potions appropriate to a Healer.
“Hi, Zook,” Pird said, rolling the name across his tongue in the way he knew would irritate the taller man, “You look cheery today, help me up!”
Zook pulled Pird up from the canal and Pird steeled himself in case Zook decided to push him back in. Pird had seen a glimmer of red in Zook’s dark iris’, a sure sign that his patience had already been spent elsewhere.
“Magist says you're cooking today,” said Sye as Pird shook himself off.
“You're kidding?” Zook asked, looking weary, “There's food poisoning from your dad's party, I've been treating boils down peoples’ throat from some kind of shrimp. Now I have to cook?”
“If any of us cook you'll have more food poisoning to worry about.”
Zook sighed, “Pird go down in the cellar and grab the last few steaks.”
“Why me?” asked Pird.
“Because it's cold down there, you're wet, and I know it'll make you miserable. Get some eggs while you're at it.”