Oliver didn't let any sort of reaction show on his face. He glanced at the floor lightly and then stood with a straight back in front of General Skullic's desk, adopting some of the affections of respect that Lombard likely would have wished he'd shown back in Solgrim. "Good morning, General," he said.
"No, it's not," Skullic said plainly. He barely even glanced at Oliver as he sat, swinging on his chair, cradling his recently shaved jaw, deep in some sort of thought. Of what kind, it was hard to guess.
"There's sun in the sky, General. As far as winter mornings go, it's rather pleasant, is it not?" Oliver said.
That made Skullic look at him, but not without a degree of irritation. "So, it looks like I'm saddled with a Patrick… Gods be damned. Two sentences in and you're already contradicting me."
"Apologies," Oliver said.
