[ Iorveth's internal bias in favor of dryads muffles his own annoyance at being caught off-guard; his glare is only momentary, a touch of a frown that dissipates once he registers the shape of the stranger and ties it to positive memories of being sheltered by others who looked like her. For that gentle association, he tips his head in a gesture approximating a small bow; it's more for his own benefit than the dryad's, and quickly overtaken by a dry half-laugh when she calls Astarion unnatural. ]
So says a dryad participating in a circus.
[ As far as unlikely things go, a wood sprite allowing herself to be a sideshow attraction is on the same level as a vampire walking in the sun― or so Iorveth thinks. He raises a brow as he watches the almost-accusation roll off of the nymph's shoulder, her smile as steady as the glowing pulse of her tattoo-like markings.
"It has given me the opportunity to look into so many hearts, to see the shape of so many souls. And I see yours right now, child of the ancient woods." Her smile widens, unnervingly knowing. "You burn with love, with a newfound feeling."
She settles her warm gaze on Astarion, as if to connect the dots. "A child of nature, enamored by a child of death." ]
no subject
So says a dryad participating in a circus.
[ As far as unlikely things go, a wood sprite allowing herself to be a sideshow attraction is on the same level as a vampire walking in the sun― or so Iorveth thinks. He raises a brow as he watches the almost-accusation roll off of the nymph's shoulder, her smile as steady as the glowing pulse of her tattoo-like markings.
"It has given me the opportunity to look into so many hearts, to see the shape of so many souls. And I see yours right now, child of the ancient woods." Her smile widens, unnervingly knowing. "You burn with love, with a newfound feeling."
She settles her warm gaze on Astarion, as if to connect the dots. "A child of nature, enamored by a child of death." ]