He’s waiting when Davesprite arrives. Sitting on his bed in a patch of stray sunlight from the nearby window, the gentle whir of a fan fills the room, curtains billowing slighly. He closes the book he’s been marking with some highlighter when the boy arrives.
Mutie looks young. He stopped aging at sixteen and he does not look any older than he is. Or, was, he’s certainly older than he looks.
Setting the book aside, he turns to look at Davesprite, his left eye is a bright, neon tangerine. His right eye cannot be seen. Partially because it is covered by a medical eyepatch and partially because the eyeball is no longer in the socket. Not that one can see that. Thanks, eyepatch.
He motions the boy over. “Hello there.” his voice is soft, Texan in its accent. “You wanna come get comfortable?” a pause, “Can’t remember if I even gave you my name. Just call me Mutie. Everyone does.”
Feathers ruffled slightly before flattening down once more as the sprite looked around the room before finally stopping at Mutie, he accepts the offer and goes to take a seat beside the other.
“Hey” he greeted, it had been a while since he was actually around anyone, therefore he felt a bit awkward and out of place. “Well thanks for inviting me over, Mutie.”
Davesprite offered a small smile, trying to stay chill and not sound like a complete idiot who hadn't had proper social interaction for years. Though that was very much his own fault.
