You do love to point out the obvious, don't you, [ Astarion snaps uncharitably. Logically, he knows that Iorveth has done nothing wrong. Emotionally, the more he's reminded of what a burden his affliction is to Iorveth, the more he feels— bad for him, which is strange and unpleasant. Guilt and shame swirl around in him until they become irritability, which gets taken out on Iorveth, which becomes yet another thing Astarion feels bad about. A vicious cycle he lacks the emotional competence to correct.
He's silent for a long moment, the only sound their feet against the road and the distant noise of nighttime creatures. Owls hooting, raccoons chittering. He supposes he's one of them again.
Finally, with renewed softness, he extends an olive branch by asking, ] When did you last eat?
[ It's difficult to keep track when he doesn't eat himself. In fact, he's hesitant to feed at all when Iorveth needs to keep his strength up for the journey. Last night, he drained a squirrel. Another contributor to his foul mood, surely. ]
no subject
He's silent for a long moment, the only sound their feet against the road and the distant noise of nighttime creatures. Owls hooting, raccoons chittering. He supposes he's one of them again.
Finally, with renewed softness, he extends an olive branch by asking, ] When did you last eat?
[ It's difficult to keep track when he doesn't eat himself. In fact, he's hesitant to feed at all when Iorveth needs to keep his strength up for the journey. Last night, he drained a squirrel. Another contributor to his foul mood, surely. ]