Jude took the last sip of his tea, and was already sliding from the kitchen island as Near began his speech. He did his best to nod dutifully and look attentive; it would be ungracious to do otherwise. Despite Near's best attempts, Jude's amusement continues uninterrupted. "It's about the primary and intended purpose of the room," he said, at last, but by the time he answered, he was at the threshold of the kitchen. "Most promising magical emanations, noted." And he slid around the corner before Near could take on anything else.
His step was brisk, descending into the cellar once more, and his movements were more purposeful. The light flowing down from the upstairs barely eased navigation, but Jude moved slowly, and opted not to look too hard. If Near was not a 'wine guy', it did not much matter what Jude picked. Presuming that the most expensive and cherished bottles would be toward the back, and the newest and cheapest toward the front, Jude opted for something a few rows back, not quite in the center but not the first thing. He didn't bother to blow the dust off the label -- too dark to see anyways. He came, he picked, he left. His steps echoed up from the cellar, into the kitchen, before Jude himself reappeared in the light. Only then did he take the wind in hand, exhale across the name, and see what it was.
"Chateau Pavie 2005. Bordeaux Red Blends from St. Emilion, Bordeaux." That might have meant something to someone else. Jude shrugged. "Just one glass," he repeated. Then, let him sleep.
His step was brisk, descending into the cellar once more, and his movements were more purposeful. The light flowing down from the upstairs barely eased navigation, but Jude moved slowly, and opted not to look too hard. If Near was not a 'wine guy', it did not much matter what Jude picked. Presuming that the most expensive and cherished bottles would be toward the back, and the newest and cheapest toward the front, Jude opted for something a few rows back, not quite in the center but not the first thing. He didn't bother to blow the dust off the label -- too dark to see anyways. He came, he picked, he left. His steps echoed up from the cellar, into the kitchen, before Jude himself reappeared in the light. Only then did he take the wind in hand, exhale across the name, and see what it was.
"Chateau Pavie 2005. Bordeaux Red Blends from St. Emilion, Bordeaux." That might have meant something to someone else. Jude shrugged. "Just one glass," he repeated. Then, let him sleep.