thirsted: (Default)
π‘Žπ‘ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘–π‘œπ‘› π‘Žπ‘›π‘π‘’π‘›π‘–π‘› ([personal profile] thirsted) wrote 2024-09-25 01:04 am (UTC)

[ One might think it natural for an elf to find solace in the company of another, but Astarion knows better: shared race means little, if anything at all, in the end. What matters is shared spirit, in whatever form might be applicable. And, even if they haven't really spoken of it out loud, there's some strange thread holding them together, an intimate familiarity with loneliness that forms a ribbon between them.

Granted, if such a thing β€” if anything β€” weighs on him, Astarion makes no show of it. His step is light as they pass through the manor's halls on their way to the grounds, a slight smile on his features as he looks sidelong as his companion.
]

Well enough, by the standards of this place.

[ A thought occurs to him, as punctuated by a feigned gasp and a leap of his eyebrows. ]

Actually, something has happened that might be of interest to you β€” not a problem, per se, butβ€” do you recall that pumpkin hunt? My prize was a dear little chicken. I'd have brought her with me, but itβ€” well, she has a bit of an aversion to sunlight.

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