idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword
"That's right," Koa replies with no small amount of pride, utterly convinced of the superiority inherent to his home. "Have you been?" - forgetting, once more, that most people are better traveled than him, that leaving the place of ones birth is rather a common occurrence and he seems to be the only isolated hick left in the expanse of Caido.
A length of silk stretches between his fingers, glinting in the light. It's almost a tangled cats cradle, but too sticky to truly work. "Or armor," the Dragoon muses thoughtfully, tugging at the mass of thread. "Or maybe rope? Wouldn't have to worry so much about knots if it could self-adhere." A belt with some inherent stickiness could be useful for keeping weapons in place. Or for keeping troublesome dragons strapped against his back.
The joke doesn't land - or rather it does, but clearly not the way he intended. Koa winces at the snarl, not having realized how much she's relaxed until she recoils again and feeling rather juvenile for making such a silly remark to begin with. "Sorry, dumb joke," he apologizes with appropriate chagrin, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck (and leaving spiderweb in his hair as he does so). "I haven't really been to Torchline in Leafchange before. But if I was a spider, I'd definitely want to spend the cold seasons here."
His first little target cleaned, Koa heads to the next. This one is infested with a nest of live spiderlings, all of whom scurry indignantly about as the Dragoon disrupts their home. He has to draw a knife out to cut through the strands, wrinkling his nose and shaking his arm as arachnids attempt to climb up it. "So uh, I heard this was a training grounds of sort? Do you come up here a lot?"
A length of silk stretches between his fingers, glinting in the light. It's almost a tangled cats cradle, but too sticky to truly work. "Or armor," the Dragoon muses thoughtfully, tugging at the mass of thread. "Or maybe rope? Wouldn't have to worry so much about knots if it could self-adhere." A belt with some inherent stickiness could be useful for keeping weapons in place. Or for keeping troublesome dragons strapped against his back.
The joke doesn't land - or rather it does, but clearly not the way he intended. Koa winces at the snarl, not having realized how much she's relaxed until she recoils again and feeling rather juvenile for making such a silly remark to begin with. "Sorry, dumb joke," he apologizes with appropriate chagrin, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck (and leaving spiderweb in his hair as he does so). "I haven't really been to Torchline in Leafchange before. But if I was a spider, I'd definitely want to spend the cold seasons here."
His first little target cleaned, Koa heads to the next. This one is infested with a nest of live spiderlings, all of whom scurry indignantly about as the Dragoon disrupts their home. He has to draw a knife out to cut through the strands, wrinkling his nose and shaking his arm as arachnids attempt to climb up it. "So uh, I heard this was a training grounds of sort? Do you come up here a lot?"
koa
