[ A laugh, and Iorveth finishes buckling the last of his belts around his body, securing his bow cradle to his back with a gentle tug. ] Any excuse for you to point a sharp object at me, I'll take.
[ It's a joke, but not really. Iorveth smiles, though his mind flits towards a question that he wisely decides to keep to himself: if someone cut Astarion's hair, would it simply not grow back, or would it grow back just to the length that it used to be before it was cut? A horrific thing to consider, if the former is true. Iorveth vows to protect Astarion's curls with his life; he's too fond of them now.
With that unspoken promise made, Iorveth hesitates for a moment before concentrating on the parasite living in his skull; he feels the faint discomfort of it pushing against his consciousness, a writhing that he'll never get used to, but he channels it and pushes its power outward, sending invisible feelers out to tap Astarion's tadpole with. A silent let me show you something. ]
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[ A laugh, and Iorveth finishes buckling the last of his belts around his body, securing his bow cradle to his back with a gentle tug. ] Any excuse for you to point a sharp object at me, I'll take.
[ It's a joke, but not really. Iorveth smiles, though his mind flits towards a question that he wisely decides to keep to himself: if someone cut Astarion's hair, would it simply not grow back, or would it grow back just to the length that it used to be before it was cut? A horrific thing to consider, if the former is true. Iorveth vows to protect Astarion's curls with his life; he's too fond of them now.
With that unspoken promise made, Iorveth hesitates for a moment before concentrating on the parasite living in his skull; he feels the faint discomfort of it pushing against his consciousness, a writhing that he'll never get used to, but he channels it and pushes its power outward, sending invisible feelers out to tap Astarion's tadpole with. A silent let me show you something. ]