[The sting of a remark cutting far too close to the bone gives him pause for a split second too long. He blinks away a blank, inward-searching look in his eyes, casting words of his own like stones in the heat of the moment in a bid to cut short this frustrating subject.]
Neither I nor my affairs are any concern of yours… but should you persist, God help you, I will become one. No matter what tortures your friend is prepared to inflict.
[Even as he says it, though, he knows it'd be too impetuous of him to follow through in the manner he's suggesting. But physical threats aren't the only means of shaking off someone bothersome; they're only the most familiar to him.]
If she pursues you, it is for her own reasons, because I will not tell her. That would only show that I have something to fear from you. And I don't believe that I do.
[Despite the conviction in her words there is a slight wariness in her eyes that hints at uncertainty. But she refuses to allow him to scare her.]
[The Forgemaster searches her face for something to exploit with unblinking intensity, panting softly, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he wrestles with his more violent impulses. But then, in an instant, the fierce inward struggle ends and his thin, pale lips twist into a crooked smile.]
How fortunate a woman you are –- [He purrs, lifting a hand, so slowly, with the intent to stroke her face with the backs of his gloved fingers.] -- to have a powerful guardian.
[He had one, once, whom had died long before her time.]
We were not all so... blessed. [He adds musingly, not without a hint of scorn.] But... there is a danger in relying on them, in becoming rather... comfortable with the idea that they shall be there for as long as we have need for them. For one day, sooner or later... they all disappear.
[Challenge flickers in his eyes as he holds hers, his sibylline smile lingering as he feathers a gloved finger slowly down the column of her throat, the shape of his fingernail, long and filed sharp, sharply delineated against leather.
Bold creature, he thinks.]
There are times... [He murmurs.] ...when impetuousity is most unwise.
[A soft giggle issues from him, anger seemingly forgotten for the moment.]
[He drawls softly, almost reassuringly, satisfied on some level by the infinitesimal hints of nervousness. For these are nuances in body language he is all too familiar with from years of laying siege to human settlements and coming to know death and the moments before very intimately.
He draws back slowly without turning, glancing aside only to collect his journal.]
[With a look of sly contentment spreading across his features, he dips his head acknowledgingly - and with gentility - as if to say, 'I am yours', tucking his book under his arm.]
Thank you kindly. 'til next we meet...
[With a mind not to linger any longer than he already has, he then turns on his heel and drifts down an aisle, disappearing.]
[Action, March 1st]
Neither I nor my affairs are any concern of yours… but should you persist, God help you, I will become one. No matter what tortures your friend is prepared to inflict.
[Even as he says it, though, he knows it'd be too impetuous of him to follow through in the manner he's suggesting. But physical threats aren't the only means of shaking off someone bothersome; they're only the most familiar to him.]
[Action, March 1st]
[Despite the conviction in her words there is a slight wariness in her eyes that hints at uncertainty. But she refuses to allow him to scare her.]
[Action, March 1st]
How fortunate a woman you are –- [He purrs, lifting a hand, so slowly, with the intent to stroke her face with the backs of his gloved fingers.] -- to have a powerful guardian.
[He had one, once, whom had died long before her time.]
We were not all so... blessed. [He adds musingly, not without a hint of scorn.] But... there is a danger in relying on them, in becoming rather... comfortable with the idea that they shall be there for as long as we have need for them. For one day, sooner or later... they all disappear.
[A gentler smile comes as he finishes.]
[Action, March 1st]
[Her lips thin as she battles with herself whether or not to say more. Finally she concludes that it wouldn't make things any worse.]
I believe if you meant me true harm, you would have already acted on it.
[Action, March 1st]
Bold creature, he thinks.]
There are times... [He murmurs.] ...when impetuousity is most unwise.
[A soft giggle issues from him, anger seemingly forgotten for the moment.]
[Action, March 1st]
I am merely speaking honestly.
[Action, March 1st]
[He drawls softly, almost reassuringly, satisfied on some level by the infinitesimal hints of nervousness. For these are nuances in body language he is all too familiar with from years of laying siege to human settlements and coming to know death and the moments before very intimately.
He draws back slowly without turning, glancing aside only to collect his journal.]
[Action, March 1st]
...We're reading The Princess Bride. For the Book Club. As I haven't yet set a date you might still have time to read it.
[Action, March 1st]
Thank you kindly. 'til next we meet...
[With a mind not to linger any longer than he already has, he then turns on his heel and drifts down an aisle, disappearing.]