There's no cowing when he exhales. No simpering sightlines in his posture. What he says is sharp and determined each time he deigns to say anything at all, cutting through the air like a knife, and equally as honed once it hits Astarion's own ears: either he was a long, long time away from his former Master, or he was so well cherished he never once learned fear.
Either way, like the rest of this, it feels unreal.]
'Was' is a very specific tense for such an important pet.
[Unlike Fenris, Astarion can't find it in himself to be direct in any line of questioning.
no subject
There's no cowing when he exhales. No simpering sightlines in his posture. What he says is sharp and determined each time he deigns to say anything at all, cutting through the air like a knife, and equally as honed once it hits Astarion's own ears: either he was a long, long time away from his former Master, or he was so well cherished he never once learned fear.
Either way, like the rest of this, it feels unreal.]
'Was' is a very specific tense for such an important pet.
[Unlike Fenris, Astarion can't find it in himself to be direct in any line of questioning.
Instinct still has him by the throat.]