Enzo
A few greetings here and there made by wandering fellow Torchers was anticipated and familiar, but the Queen herself appearing and deigning to speak with him is a little flabbergasting. Flora had told him of her meetings with Maeve, erasing the illusion of untouchability that shrouded figures of import normally. (Admittedly Enzo rarely had that anyway, given his father.) A habitual hand nearly rises to rub sheepishly at the back of his neck, but when he nearly loses the net as a result Enzo jerks and yelps, laughter bubbling up immediately after as color comes to his cheeks - thankfully hidden by the darkness of the day. “Just making sure everyone has something on their plate, and I can’t hunt to save my own skin,” he laughs amiably.
Splitting his focus for a moment more to see that Maeve has removed her shoes, Enzo grins winningly. “A little help would be great, this load is really full. If we can get it together I can probably call it early!” There’s no doubt or concern over dirtying the Queen’s hands or waving her away out of some misplaced idea of pride or preserving her due to her status. In the Greatwood everyone dirtied their hands, often literally, and the idea of being above it because of title alone was entirely beyond his worldview. Good thing it appeared Maeve didn’t prescribe to that either.
Splitting his focus for a moment more to see that Maeve has removed her shoes, Enzo grins winningly. “A little help would be great, this load is really full. If we can get it together I can probably call it early!” There’s no doubt or concern over dirtying the Queen’s hands or waving her away out of some misplaced idea of pride or preserving her due to her status. In the Greatwood everyone dirtied their hands, often literally, and the idea of being above it because of title alone was entirely beyond his worldview. Good thing it appeared Maeve didn’t prescribe to that either.
you'll play the artist and I'll play the thief
'til I just let you down
'til I just let you down
