[ He looks back to Clive the smile still warm on his lips. ]
Oh, no I do, but it is either for my fighting prowess- of which I do have pride in- or my handsome features. I think naught have commented on my voice nor my way with words. [ he supposes this might be due to His Majesty being far more poetic, or perhaps by virtue of himself not spending much time around other people- he usually had little patience for them ] Now you though, I'm certain you have heard plenty praise for your voice.
[ Sleipnir enjoys when Mythos agrees with him, the smile suits the other man well, as does the lighthearted tone. In fact he's rather enjoying this entire conversation. ]
More like people are not intense enough for him. He holds people in awe, but so rarely does one capture his attention.
[ Despite having his eyes locked on the other in supplication Sleipnir misses the cue, the change in Clive when he's decided to grapple him- no, grab him- hold him? The question that follows hits Sleipnir as a second shock so much so it knocks a laugh out of him, whooshing on a gust of air. ]
Ha! [ He takes one breath, but the expression on Sleipnir's face is one of incredulity. There may be some unevenness in his breathing; he is trying to control the roar of these feelings; and he may still be clutching the bow a little too hard, but the look in his eyes is steely and harbors a burning fire. The nerve of someone trying to comfort he who is in pain for them. Yes, this anger and sorrow intertwined and burning through his veins, it is for how this world has chewed up and spat out even Mythos. ]
Peace, Lord Rosfield. I merely am not a man above empathy... rare, but it does happen.
[ Sleipnir's voice is firm in his usual floaty tone; the fire burns here too, but not directed at Mythos. ]
no subject
Oh, no I do, but it is either for my fighting prowess- of which I do have pride in- or my handsome features. I think naught have commented on my voice nor my way with words. [ he supposes this might be due to His Majesty being far more poetic, or perhaps by virtue of himself not spending much time around other people- he usually had little patience for them ] Now you though, I'm certain you have heard plenty praise for your voice.
[ Sleipnir enjoys when Mythos agrees with him, the smile suits the other man well, as does the lighthearted tone. In fact he's rather enjoying this entire conversation. ]
More like people are not intense enough for him. He holds people in awe, but so rarely does one capture his attention.
[ Despite having his eyes locked on the other in supplication Sleipnir misses the cue, the change in Clive when he's decided to grapple him- no, grab him- hold him? The question that follows hits Sleipnir as a second shock so much so it knocks a laugh out of him, whooshing on a gust of air. ]
Ha! [ He takes one breath, but the expression on Sleipnir's face is one of incredulity. There may be some unevenness in his breathing; he is trying to control the roar of these feelings; and he may still be clutching the bow a little too hard, but the look in his eyes is steely and harbors a burning fire. The nerve of someone trying to comfort he who is in pain for them. Yes, this anger and sorrow intertwined and burning through his veins, it is for how this world has chewed up and spat out even Mythos. ]
Peace, Lord Rosfield. I merely am not a man above empathy... rare, but it does happen.
[ Sleipnir's voice is firm in his usual floaty tone; the fire burns here too, but not directed at Mythos. ]