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06-14-2016, 01:59 PM
 The interaction that follows is tense and uncomfortable. Luckily for the two mares before him, Knox is used to situations that aren't particularly pleasant. He's had his fair share of blood, gore, and mayhem. A grumpy exchange between a healer and her patient is tame and straightforward. Like a true man, he knows that if he sits back and watches for long enough that someone else will do his work for him. And he's right, of course he is. He's been in this herd and its previous incarnation most of his life and watched enough interactions like this to know that even the most bitter of wounded eventually concede. And luckily Agnodice is patient and swift, though as he watches her heal, he feels jealousy rise in him like bile. It's the same sensation he has felt before, when Brisa had crafted the dagger. His eyes narrow again now and he passes it off as vague interest. One eye is focused always on the dragon—he too does not trust the creature, not since he was burned so badly by one of its kind—but the other part of him watches Agnodice with incredible care. Once again he is shown the severe shallowness of his own skill. Once again, he lusts after the power that others have. But he tries not to focus on it, tries to form enough of a sentence to move on with whatever this is and keep things going. "Thank you, Agnodice," his voice rumbles. It sounds simultaneously smooth and as if it's been run through a gravel-filled mill. Regardless, it doesn't sound particularly thankful. "Do you feel better, Aquila?" It almost pains him to pretend as if he cares this much, but it's what Archibald has tasked him with. "" Make no mistake I don't do anything for free I keep my enemies closer than my mirror ever gets to me |
@Aquila
