[ Astarion has no intention of actually gnawing on Gale, but he does let him think that he's considering it for a few minutes, like a cat toying with an anxious mouse. He doesn't doubt that Gale would offer his blood if the situation were truly dire, but he has no need for a reluctant donation when he has a willing meal all to himself. After making Gale sweat just enough to be entertaining, he follows Iorveth up the stairs, Gale's too-big slippers pitter-pattering against the wood.
He leans against the doorway of the guest bedroom, eyeing Iorveth discerningly. ]
How do you feel?
[ If he's still unwell, Astarion will go without, or maybe he really will go hunting for pigeons like he'd teased Tara about. ]
You look better. One might venture to say 'good enough to eat'.
no subject
He leans against the doorway of the guest bedroom, eyeing Iorveth discerningly. ]
How do you feel?
[ If he's still unwell, Astarion will go without, or maybe he really will go hunting for pigeons like he'd teased Tara about. ]
You look better. One might venture to say 'good enough to eat'.