[ Thrive is subjective- he prefers it here, heavily. Prefers the sun, the food in his stomach, the fact he can sleep through the night almost unbothered. But it is still far too peaceful, quiet, for someone used to spilling blood and wielding blades.

Some days, he finds himself going a bit stir crazy, and he retreats to the woods to toss and slash at things in an attempt to release some of the energy.

It is preferable here, yes. He will stay. But it does not entirely suit him, despite it all.

Adelis will indeed, taking the bottle once it's offered to slowly pour some of the white on his fingertips. The feel is unpleasant, as is the smell, but he would rather deal with it himself than allow Mishka to drag his hands over his chest again. It is beginning to feel far too oddly intimate, and he has never quite lent himself to someone whilst so vulnerable before.

Enough of that, he thinks.

He will listen to Mishka talk, at least, despite the odd feeling in the back of his head, dragging fingers over his clavicle. He is far less thorough in his own work, all things considering. ]

I haven't been. [ To the cafe, that is. Or the restaurant, or...well, any of them. ] The idea of going somewhere and getting food when I've plenty at home feels ridiculous.

[ He has always been frugal, and thus far, has only really indulged on the free offering here and there, such as those at the spring dance. ]

...I have been to the bar. I don't mind it. [ The atmosphere is nice, at least, and it tastes better than whatever they have in Ostoyan taverns. ] I prefer walking about rather than settling in the places in town. I prefer to keep myself busy.

[ The sunset and sunrise, in particular, he finds himself drawn to watching...but Mishka doesn't need to know that. ]