[ Not too far off, Magnus sits with his 3rd or 4th bowl of brrkshavak and a blanket over his shoulders, having, for the moment, gotten absolutely distracted from the task at hand - figuring out where he is, how, and why - to enjoy copious amounts of this slimy soup that's going to absolutely wreck him on the way out.
The sound of the crashing barrel catches his attention, and he watches this small bird-ish person fuss about for a moment.
Standing up, he downs the rest of his brew - hot hot hot hot - and makes his way over. ]
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The sound of the crashing barrel catches his attention, and he watches this small bird-ish person fuss about for a moment.
Standing up, he downs the rest of his brew - hot hot hot hot - and makes his way over. ]
Hey there. Need some help?