// object of desire //
His pale smile brightens at the recognition as Deimos narrows in on him. Ducking his head in his own nod, the courtesan steps a little closer with the offer of continued conversation, arms slipping out of the deep pockets he’d bundled himself with. “Yeah, they’re doin’ good. My sister’s takin’ over.” He tacks on with a little shrug – because at least someone was taking the family business. He certainly didn’t want it.
As for working on his air magic, Thorn’s head bobs with a touch more excitement before his smile twists toward bashfulness. “My air magic ain’t very strong.” It comes as a little warning, because while Deimos’ appeared like a gale, torrenting winds, Thorn’s were like a soft summer breeze. Still, though, up for the challenge, he pushes up his sleeves and straightens out. “Mind if I?” He asks, snagging some of the wind still around Deimos to use, focusing intensely to get the breeze to aim straight toward the target in question.
As for working on his air magic, Thorn’s head bobs with a touch more excitement before his smile twists toward bashfulness. “My air magic ain’t very strong.” It comes as a little warning, because while Deimos’ appeared like a gale, torrenting winds, Thorn’s were like a soft summer breeze. Still, though, up for the challenge, he pushes up his sleeves and straightens out. “Mind if I?” He asks, snagging some of the wind still around Deimos to use, focusing intensely to get the breeze to aim straight toward the target in question.
THORN
