Nonsense because he craves it, in a way: the memory of bustling streets, the scent of candlight overflowing in the evening— the idea of having something for himself rather than simply scraping up whatever meager, momentary bedding sets itself in their path as they move along. He doesn't relish the thought of accumulation without permanence. It's far too unpalatable.
His doublet is shrugged high across his shoulders, he sets his fingers to fastening buttons, snorting faintly in disagreement.
"The only people we need to be wary of will be looking for Astarion the vampire. Astarion, the wearied spawn that would burn up in daylight— that can't cross an open doorway without an invitation, or tolerate a little garlic. That, my dearest boy," Said as he pauses, holding up his palm to once again show off the lingering vibrant shard from Thedas. "Is exactly what's going to mean I fly right under everyone's noses, so long as I'm in northern territories."
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Nonsense because he craves it, in a way: the memory of bustling streets, the scent of candlight overflowing in the evening— the idea of having something for himself rather than simply scraping up whatever meager, momentary bedding sets itself in their path as they move along. He doesn't relish the thought of accumulation without permanence. It's far too unpalatable.
His doublet is shrugged high across his shoulders, he sets his fingers to fastening buttons, snorting faintly in disagreement.
"The only people we need to be wary of will be looking for Astarion the vampire. Astarion, the wearied spawn that would burn up in daylight— that can't cross an open doorway without an invitation, or tolerate a little garlic. That, my dearest boy," Said as he pauses, holding up his palm to once again show off the lingering vibrant shard from Thedas. "Is exactly what's going to mean I fly right under everyone's noses, so long as I'm in northern territories."