"I understand that," Rus tells him kindly. "But you have to concentrate on one thing at a time, else you just end up flapping about and don't accomplish anything." He nods approvingly at the drink.
"Hardly sporting then, is it?" he grins.
"Never had to worry about soup at the Boars Head," Rus says thankfully. He's leery of soup. "The wings would have gone down a treat though. Bones, don't you know," he explains.
Rus laughs as Alf slinks away. "You always did have a way about you Severus. Just be careful; people like that tend to take things personally and hold grudges."
"That's fine!" he beams. "I can't think of a better present. Is there anything you might like?"
Alf comes back and speaks to Rus, deliberately ignoring Severus. "Couple of my mates are coming round to see you play," he says, with no preamble. Rus gives him one of his special smiles. "Loverly," he says. "The more the merrier." A dart is picked up and flung, hard. It hits the board dead center, buried almost to the feathers. It quivers. "Can't wait to meet them."
Wonderful description! :D Right. We'll look like candy canes. Well, I'm certainly not complaining. OOH! There was a six-point buck in our front yard yesterday! No I haven't. I tend to stay away from uber-intense things. Oh right. Tra-la, everything turns out all right in the end and they all lived happily ever after. *rolls eyes* NOT!