Cian
On a gathering storm comes
A tall handsome man
A tall handsome man
Do you Finn? Do you think I might be right? So expressive is the Eye that he needs neither telepathy nor an animated face in order to convey his thoughts. It is in the subtle things, the narrowing of his eyes, the twitch of an eyelash, the curl of a smile that touches only a fraction of his lips.
That it's all Finn's idea is no accident. Nodding, satisfied by most of this, Cian laces his fingers together on his lap, tilting his head slightly such that his raised brow appears more pronounced. "Demotion? Ahh, Finn. Y'don't even have your glasses. That's as much of a demotion as anything." And indeed, what point is there in demoting Finn when he's already done such a marvellous job of that himself?
"I think some time here might do you a bit of good. Allow you to get...reaquianted with things." Like the Silk Houses, for instance.
That it's all Finn's idea is no accident. Nodding, satisfied by most of this, Cian laces his fingers together on his lap, tilting his head slightly such that his raised brow appears more pronounced. "Demotion? Ahh, Finn. Y'don't even have your glasses. That's as much of a demotion as anything." And indeed, what point is there in demoting Finn when he's already done such a marvellous job of that himself?
"I think some time here might do you a bit of good. Allow you to get...reaquianted with things." Like the Silk Houses, for instance.
In a dusty black coat with
A red right hand
A red right hand
