You are the night-time fear
"No," he responds, pale eyebrows shooting up in slight surprise. Wessex had told him the Outlanders were a fairly recent development, but he supposes if you're not among the first then perhaps you do not question it at all. "None at all." He thinks, sooner or later, the Voice would've opened portals to other worlds anyway—out of curiosity, the challenge, who knows? It just happened to be necessity that won out.He chuckles himself: it's more like a breath, but the smirk is there, slightly twisting his lips and sparkling in his eyes. "Maybe one day you'll tell me," he answers brightly—and is it accompanied by a wink? Perhaps it is, perhaps it isn't, but he does think it would be nice to know Nate better.
He'll have to rebuild somehow, after all. Forge new connections, find new meanings. Why look further than he has to, when what's right in front of him seems pleasant? And quite limber. Aamu's a little taken aback by the wink, wondering if he just witnessed an intentional display of something, his eyebrows rising slightly again. "Of course," he says in that murmur-y way of his, undoing his sword belt and placing it neatly atop his coat. "I am more than happy to teach."
And happy to make a fool of himelf—that's at least what it feels like as Aamu watches Nate drop into a ready stance, and prompting him to do.. what exactly? Attack him? Aamu's body goes to the closest thing it knows, which is reminiscent of a knife-fighter's stance in a street-brawl. Not very useful when you don't have a knife. "Consider me a complete idiot in this," he remarks, mellow and amused, helpless and confused. Still, he feels prompted to do something, padding closer to Nate with that fluid, elegant grace of his, and then.. not really doing anything, except maybe wait for Nate to hand his ass to him.
You are the morning when it's clear
AAMU
