The weakness we left behind
seems to be getting stronger
Things. He has things to offer. The side of Nathaniel's mouth which is trying not to laugh twitches. The stranger might as well have Outlander tattooed across his forehead. Or maybe just con, except he isn't very good at it, and he's small enough and earnest enough to get away with it. Nate shakes his head, a soft rush of air which might be a chuckle escaping his throat.
"Well," he says (kindly, for Nate), "Frostfall is the worst of them." So the stranger is lucky, or smart, or both. He is, at least, intriguing enough to keep Nate's attention. And sometimes that is all one needs.
"What do you need all this for, anyway?" Nate wonders, his eyes flicking up from Oliver's face to the market around them. "I think there's an artist's guild, or something… I can show you where it is." As he speaks, he is already in the process of turning, wheels clicking slowly in his head, as he tries to remember where that strange man - Bastien? - holds court.
"Well," he says (kindly, for Nate), "Frostfall is the worst of them." So the stranger is lucky, or smart, or both. He is, at least, intriguing enough to keep Nate's attention. And sometimes that is all one needs.
"What do you need all this for, anyway?" Nate wonders, his eyes flicking up from Oliver's face to the market around them. "I think there's an artist's guild, or something… I can show you where it is." As he speaks, he is already in the process of turning, wheels clicking slowly in his head, as he tries to remember where that strange man - Bastien? - holds court.
