[How interesting. Some kind of beast... he's sure he's seen one before, maybe while visiting the third spire or perhaps Ariadne's manor, but he can't place the name. His ears perk as he spots someone who is definitely known to him. A Seelie. He remembers the face more than the cloak. Thrall had nearly knocked him over because he'd been flitting around near the wounded. An honorable foe, despite his Seelie brethren who had attacked and killed non-combatants and servants. And now he was missing an arm? That's an awful way to pay someone back for kindness.
Well. It's not technically wartime, and Thrall holds no real allegiance to his own side. Not after what he's learned. He considers, then gently lets himself down. He doesn't approach just yet; he calls out instead, trying to be friendly.]
Greetings, stranger! I see you are here to hunt the pests as well.
no subject
Well. It's not technically wartime, and Thrall holds no real allegiance to his own side. Not after what he's learned. He considers, then gently lets himself down. He doesn't approach just yet; he calls out instead, trying to be friendly.]
Greetings, stranger! I see you are here to hunt the pests as well.