if the earth quakes down, buildings fall
☼
Her scrutinizing, assessing gaze -glare- was not lost to him. The thing was, though, is that he was a man quite familiar with such looks. He knew how to walk beneath them, smile in the face of their presence, and carry on a conversation as if he wasn't a specimen being examined beneath a magnifying glass.
Avallac'h had been a specimen since he was born.
He had also stood before the Crown, stared the man in the eye with hardly a note of emotions passing over his features. It was easy to smile before her, to act, and continue conversing as if nothing was wrong.
Nothing was wrong.
If she ever grew bold enough again to say, ask, something that Avallac'h was not privy to answering his heart would not stutter and his words would not fail just as they had before. It may have been years, ages, since he had played such games with another but he knew these games well. Had taken part in them since he was old enough to speak.
He learned from his mistakes early on and would not be making any again.
Ear twitching in her direction at the click of her tongue, he kept his small, pleasant smile, choosing not to speak on her telling him there was no reason for him to ask for her forgiveness. Not when it would simply result in him letting out another apology. Instead, he simply nodded, smile warm and showing his approval for her decision (although, he would have approved of any decision she had come to).
"Splendid, I look forward to it." He remarked, knowing he actually did. Even if he would be a little more careful, a tiny bit more cautious, of how he spoke around her.
Where she was going, he wouldn't ask. That was something that only concerned her, not him. She would be well, this he was sure of, and if she appeared tomorrow morning looking worse then he would be able to see if he could offer her help.
(It was so very hard, dealing with the desire to care and the desire to keep himself distant. Especially after his stumble. He wished to remain safe, but his former desire made him vulnerable.)
Ignoring her knowing gaze, he let out a chuckle. "A rare thing to witness, I assure you. Only a handful have, and from their reactions I can confidently say it is quite the sight." He easily joked, tone light and pleasant, experienced enough in conversing with others to spy the end to their time together.
That is, until the morning.
Watching her turn, ready, he was prepared to give her a friendly farewell as he did with all. When the point of her tail came to brush across his skin, his expression did not fall.
No. All that touch did is reveal to him something he had not known about earlier because he liked to give all the benefit of the doubt. It added to the pieces—pieces that already included years of sleep, of wanting to be away from the heat of Solterra, and of rising from the dunes like a resurrected being.
A serpent. (Avallac'h managed to retain the sigh that wanted to escape him.)
He has had plenty of experience with snakes, vipers—whatever one wished to call them. He can remember one more clearly than the rest, of course, one that drew him into her coils and sunk her teeth into his neck once he was entirely hers.
Οχιά.
Seemingly unphased, Avallac'h took a retreating step back in the opposite direction she was going. Gazing on after her, his own, similar eyes nothing but warm and kind, he dipped his head in farewell. "Until the morning, then. Be well, dear Hälla." He said with a kind smile before turning away from her.
It is only then that his smile dimmed, and instead of something determined, stubborn to win the game, appearing on his face, he only appeared tired.
Speech
@Hälla
Avallac'h had been a specimen since he was born.
He had also stood before the Crown, stared the man in the eye with hardly a note of emotions passing over his features. It was easy to smile before her, to act, and continue conversing as if nothing was wrong.
Nothing was wrong.
If she ever grew bold enough again to say, ask, something that Avallac'h was not privy to answering his heart would not stutter and his words would not fail just as they had before. It may have been years, ages, since he had played such games with another but he knew these games well. Had taken part in them since he was old enough to speak.
He learned from his mistakes early on and would not be making any again.
Ear twitching in her direction at the click of her tongue, he kept his small, pleasant smile, choosing not to speak on her telling him there was no reason for him to ask for her forgiveness. Not when it would simply result in him letting out another apology. Instead, he simply nodded, smile warm and showing his approval for her decision (although, he would have approved of any decision she had come to).
"Splendid, I look forward to it." He remarked, knowing he actually did. Even if he would be a little more careful, a tiny bit more cautious, of how he spoke around her.
Where she was going, he wouldn't ask. That was something that only concerned her, not him. She would be well, this he was sure of, and if she appeared tomorrow morning looking worse then he would be able to see if he could offer her help.
(It was so very hard, dealing with the desire to care and the desire to keep himself distant. Especially after his stumble. He wished to remain safe, but his former desire made him vulnerable.)
Ignoring her knowing gaze, he let out a chuckle. "A rare thing to witness, I assure you. Only a handful have, and from their reactions I can confidently say it is quite the sight." He easily joked, tone light and pleasant, experienced enough in conversing with others to spy the end to their time together.
That is, until the morning.
Watching her turn, ready, he was prepared to give her a friendly farewell as he did with all. When the point of her tail came to brush across his skin, his expression did not fall.
No. All that touch did is reveal to him something he had not known about earlier because he liked to give all the benefit of the doubt. It added to the pieces—pieces that already included years of sleep, of wanting to be away from the heat of Solterra, and of rising from the dunes like a resurrected being.
A serpent. (Avallac'h managed to retain the sigh that wanted to escape him.)
He has had plenty of experience with snakes, vipers—whatever one wished to call them. He can remember one more clearly than the rest, of course, one that drew him into her coils and sunk her teeth into his neck once he was entirely hers.
Οχιά.
Seemingly unphased, Avallac'h took a retreating step back in the opposite direction she was going. Gazing on after her, his own, similar eyes nothing but warm and kind, he dipped his head in farewell. "Until the morning, then. Be well, dear Hälla." He said with a kind smile before turning away from her.
It is only then that his smile dimmed, and instead of something determined, stubborn to win the game, appearing on his face, he only appeared tired.
@Hälla
