[ He turns on his heels, taking care not to let Astarion collide into him as a result of the sudden stop, and presses his fever-warm lips to the corner of said pretty mouth. The sparrow sees this as a grave insult, apparently ("in front of my salad???"), and flies off in a feathery huff. ]
I prefer the truth of things: that you learned to tolerate me.
[ An arduous, meaningful process. Iorveth pinches the bridge of Astarion's nose, and resumes their half-trot across the forest. The trees are beginning to thin, giving way to flatter, easier terrain that will lead them straight to the gates of Waterdeep. He thinks he remembers someone they passed on Trade Way mentioning that they might make it to the City of Splendors just in time for Fey Day, which is fortuitous timing; Iorveth hopes that he and Astarion will be able to slip through the incoming rush of visitors relatively unnoticed. ]
Let's see if you can tolerate me telling you to walk faster. Come.
no subject
Pretty lies from a pretty mouth.
[ He turns on his heels, taking care not to let Astarion collide into him as a result of the sudden stop, and presses his fever-warm lips to the corner of said pretty mouth. The sparrow sees this as a grave insult, apparently ("in front of my salad???"), and flies off in a feathery huff. ]
I prefer the truth of things: that you learned to tolerate me.
[ An arduous, meaningful process. Iorveth pinches the bridge of Astarion's nose, and resumes their half-trot across the forest. The trees are beginning to thin, giving way to flatter, easier terrain that will lead them straight to the gates of Waterdeep. He thinks he remembers someone they passed on Trade Way mentioning that they might make it to the City of Splendors just in time for Fey Day, which is fortuitous timing; Iorveth hopes that he and Astarion will be able to slip through the incoming rush of visitors relatively unnoticed. ]
Let's see if you can tolerate me telling you to walk faster. Come.