and we'll forget this solemn day, we'll always be young again
“Bit of both, I suppose.” Varus quips back with a light chuckle, unable to keep his fangs hidden (nor really needing to given that she already knew), but still. He draws silent, watching the interaction between queen and shopkeep. The merchant disappears soon enough, though, which lets Varus’ oceanic gaze slip back to Maeve, readjusting his stance to lean against the counter in a mirror of her own.
He nods to her question, though, fiddling with the glove on one of his hands. “Yeah. The fishing line in the grounds is lackluster compared to the perfection Torchline’s crafted over the years.” He offers with another huff of a laugh. “One would think given a few centuries they might’ve figured it out, but… Suppose the barrier had no help in the matter.” He shrugs, before taking a deep breath he doesn’t need. “How have you been, though? You look… Comfortable? Uncomfortable?” His head cocks, scanning her. He doesn’t want to ask outright if she’s pregnant, but given the attire he can only assume.
He nods to her question, though, fiddling with the glove on one of his hands. “Yeah. The fishing line in the grounds is lackluster compared to the perfection Torchline’s crafted over the years.” He offers with another huff of a laugh. “One would think given a few centuries they might’ve figured it out, but… Suppose the barrier had no help in the matter.” He shrugs, before taking a deep breath he doesn’t need. “How have you been, though? You look… Comfortable? Uncomfortable?” His head cocks, scanning her. He doesn’t want to ask outright if she’s pregnant, but given the attire he can only assume.
VARUS
