.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
05-14-2014, 09:47 AM
He halfheartedly watches the bird take flight, not taking from the situation what the other mare did as was so often the case with him. He merely assumes the falcon has seen a snack some distance off and is out to capture it, not that it is a sign the bird has accepted him as someone to not be afraid of. Dragomir doesn’t feel that he is imposing in anyway, even after the disaster in the willow grove, and while he has faith that should it come to blows between himself and another, he will do alright enough to live, he would rather things stay quiet and peaceful, a droll sort of life. He requires no flash or glamour, only a peace of mind. He would wish, if he knew the reason the bird had finally left their company, that he could be the sort who could wholly be trusted to uphold such notions – but he knows he is not. He can only try to be better than who he has been in the past. After a few fleeting seconds of silence, his thoughts and sights are broken from the peregrine that has taken to the heavens, his face returning to the buttermilk mare with ears raised and pale eyes twinkling curiously. Make her something? He supposes it wouldn’t be too difficult a task, even if he began and finished work here and now, so long as she doesn’t want anything that requires materials back home or elsewhere in the land. His shoulders move in a rolling shrug, simple features tilted as he gives his reply. "What were you wanting?" he asks, the yes implied in his rhetoric as he moves to fetch his gourd some distance away, assuming that whatever trinket she has in mind will surely have gemstones in it. Women were predictable in that they loved things that were beautiful, and as he returned back to her with his gourd between straight white teeth he takes a glance at her, her sweet shyness reminiscent of Alysanne, and his lips curve into a soft smile as the idea of what he’ll ask in exchange comes to mind and he lays his carrying device on the ground before him. "I have some supplies with me. Anything you’d like, within reason, of course – though I would like to trade," he adds, hoping it is not too steep a request arising from the lips of a novice such as himself, "I have friends back home who enjoy herbology; I’m sure they’d love some seeds and saplings for their garden, from wherever your home is." He pauses, his smile growing awkward as he realizes he may be assuming too much. "Sorry. I just haven’t seen you around the World’s Edge. I’m only guessing you don’t live there." @[Parelia] |
Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3
