[ Astarion stomps his foot, the heel of his boot clacking against the cobblestone. Across the street, a couple tieflings milling about turn to look at the elves who are clearly having some sort of domestic dispute in public. They shoot each other knowing glances, somewhere between amused and filled with secondhand embarrassment.
He doesn't notice, too wrapped up in Iorveth. Pulling him over to the side of the street, he hisses, ] Must you be so daft?
[ Rude. It's out of love, so he assumes that will cover his sins. ]
He could bite you, you idiot, and after throwing you in six feet of dirt you'd be his.
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[ Astarion stomps his foot, the heel of his boot clacking against the cobblestone. Across the street, a couple tieflings milling about turn to look at the elves who are clearly having some sort of domestic dispute in public. They shoot each other knowing glances, somewhere between amused and filled with secondhand embarrassment.
He doesn't notice, too wrapped up in Iorveth. Pulling him over to the side of the street, he hisses, ] Must you be so daft?
[ Rude. It's out of love, so he assumes that will cover his sins. ]
He could bite you, you idiot, and after throwing you in six feet of dirt you'd be his.