sons could be birds,
taken broken up to the mountain
taken broken up to the mountain
So, Nathaniel doesn't really care to know what the stranger is doing. A no would have sufficed, or just being ignored, but instead he gets this assumption of friendliness, as if offering something up in return for the things he needs to survive is an invitation to talk. Fortunately, though, the day has been good so far and the stranger is a ridiculous shade of earnest, and Nathaniel finds him more amusing than irritating.
Nate tilts his head, something like a smirk creasing one side of his mouth. "So you want me to help you out, so you can take something of mine?" A note of frank amusement evident in his voice. It's a tone he rarely is able to take, a tone of don't you know how any of this works? But then, making Nathaniel feel somewhat accomplished may be the only thing Outlanders are good for.
"You're not from around here, are you?" A brief glance past over Oliver's shoulder, at the small crowd milling to and fro. Then Nathaniel's gaze returns to the stanger's pale hair, his carefully shaped features. They aren't unpleasant, really. Pleasant enough to keep looking at, at least. "What do you need help with?" Nate wonders.
Nate tilts his head, something like a smirk creasing one side of his mouth. "So you want me to help you out, so you can take something of mine?" A note of frank amusement evident in his voice. It's a tone he rarely is able to take, a tone of don't you know how any of this works? But then, making Nathaniel feel somewhat accomplished may be the only thing Outlanders are good for.
"You're not from around here, are you?" A brief glance past over Oliver's shoulder, at the small crowd milling to and fro. Then Nathaniel's gaze returns to the stanger's pale hair, his carefully shaped features. They aren't unpleasant, really. Pleasant enough to keep looking at, at least. "What do you need help with?" Nate wonders.
