he night was cold, and Oliver didn't have the luxury of a large body or body fat to insulate himself against the chill. But he did have a thick warm coat rescued from the gingerbread house, a beanie that covered his ears, and the gloves that allowed him to still work with his hands. As much as he'd rather be back inside his trailer with the door closed, he didn't like the thought of hosting people inside, inside where the proportions were so obviously made for him and would likely be uncomfortable for those who did not possess his specific genetic mutation. Oliver was used to a world made for bigger people and wanted to keep his own little slice of paradise to himself for the time being.
But that didn't mean he couldn't socialize. He was, for the moment, the only one there, yes, but, hopefully, that would change. He read the financial news on his phone as he sipped slowly at his screwdriver, ears peeled for movement, for the approach of a co-worker. And when he heard footsteps on the grass, he looked up and slipped his phone into the pocket of his coat.
She approached, with a scroll, and Oliver leaned forward to take it, carefully unrolling it to look down at the writing. He'd done some vague internet research on the language and knew there were translations out there he could work from to form an alphabet. From there, he could translate the scroll. "It is a precious gift." He told her, voice soft and serious. "Too precious to stay out here in the elements. Please, take a seat, I'll go stash this away."
And stash he did, in a little safe that he'd changed the combination to when he'd first arrived. Coming back out, he sank into his little chair again and reached out, extending his arm beyond what was normal, for the bottle of vodka he'd brought outside with him. "No drink could come close to approaching the value of the knowledge I stand to gain from that scroll." He told her smoothly as he mixed her a drink in a small glass. "But I hope that you enjoy it, at least." And, again, he extended his arm up to her so that he did not have to stand up to pass the drink over, feeling just a little bit buzzed and relatively lazy.