[ The comparison to a cat—or any sort of animal—would rankle if it weren't coming from Iorveth, but it is, so Astarion knows it's meant affectionately and not disparagingly. That makes it pleasing rather than irritating, and he scoffs and rolls his eyes in a way that suggests he likes it but will never admit such a thing. ]

Don't expend your energy, darling.

[ He reaches out to touch Iorveth's back, but the sparrow looks at him sideways and he recoils. Eugh, nature. Perhaps it knows that there's something deeply unnatural about him, or perhaps it can tell that he'd sink his teeth into it if it weren't perched on Iorveth right now. ]

It's not as if Gale will turn us away.

[ Probably. Maybe. In fact, he very much could. It's hardly been any time at all since he returned to Waterdeep, but maybe he's already resumed his life there as an illustrious wizard. Maybe two bedraggled elves at his doorstep would be too much trouble.

No, Astarion thinks, shaking his head. Gale is nauseatingly loyal. He might balk at their travel-worn appearances, but he won't make them leave. (Still, there's a nagging little doubt in the back of his head: what in the world will they do if he does?) ]

He'll be overjoyed to see us, I'm sure, [ he adds in a voice that suggests he's convincing himself as much as Iorveth. ] Life must be so dull without us around.