Admittedly, Zahir had not factored ‘nearly get run into by a demigod’ into his plans for the day. Ae had boldly assumed Ronin was purposefully running towards him and that the plan had gone off without a hitch, until Ronin didn’t slow down. If this was some play to throw Zahir off his game and guard, Ronin wasn’t only a demigod but a damn genius.
Thankfully, Zahir was accustomed to thinking on his feet, or, in this case, on his ass, half sprawled backwards from where he’d flinched out the way of the collision. Squinting over his raised arm, Zahir looked up at Ronin; Ae had heard the demigod describe as the Supernova, and now, the sun beaming behind him, he didn’t half live up to the name.
“No need to apologise, Sir,” Zahir said, speaking with a smooth calm his racing heartbeat did not merit. “My fault entirely. I’d heard this was a running route; I should have chosen where I sat more wisely.” Well. At least this proved his calculations about how to get noticed had paid off, in a manner of speaking.
Lowering aer raised hand, Zahir stood up, dusted himself off, balancing somewhat precariously on the rocks with aer cane, and appraised Ronin as if ae had not been expecting him. The demigod was about what Zahir had expected: gorgeous, well-built, and a certain kind of unnerving Zahir associated with the divine; though, perhaps that last aspect was mere projection.
Ae offered a hand to shake. “Zahir. Here,” ae took from aer satchel the waterskin and proffered it to the demigod, “you look like you might need this more than I do.” Naseem would have grinned and flirted, or at least aimed for friendly. She was good at making friends. Zahir didn’t try to fake an amicable smile; ae knew well enough that on aem, such expressions often registered as uncanny. Out of place. So, he aimed for polite, courteous, studying Ronin to try and judge his character beyond the sweat and near-death greeting.
Thankfully, Zahir was accustomed to thinking on his feet, or, in this case, on his ass, half sprawled backwards from where he’d flinched out the way of the collision. Squinting over his raised arm, Zahir looked up at Ronin; Ae had heard the demigod describe as the Supernova, and now, the sun beaming behind him, he didn’t half live up to the name.
“No need to apologise, Sir,” Zahir said, speaking with a smooth calm his racing heartbeat did not merit. “My fault entirely. I’d heard this was a running route; I should have chosen where I sat more wisely.” Well. At least this proved his calculations about how to get noticed had paid off, in a manner of speaking.
Lowering aer raised hand, Zahir stood up, dusted himself off, balancing somewhat precariously on the rocks with aer cane, and appraised Ronin as if ae had not been expecting him. The demigod was about what Zahir had expected: gorgeous, well-built, and a certain kind of unnerving Zahir associated with the divine; though, perhaps that last aspect was mere projection.
Ae offered a hand to shake. “Zahir. Here,” ae took from aer satchel the waterskin and proffered it to the demigod, “you look like you might need this more than I do.” Naseem would have grinned and flirted, or at least aimed for friendly. She was good at making friends. Zahir didn’t try to fake an amicable smile; ae knew well enough that on aem, such expressions often registered as uncanny. Out of place. So, he aimed for polite, courteous, studying Ronin to try and judge his character beyond the sweat and near-death greeting.
