Guessing someone's age…
Uka's age is supposed to be hard to guess, but Salem's is almost impossible to pin down. He has an unfortunate look about him, young and old at the same time, but not in a flattering way. It's one thing to be in your senior years and look like you're still in your prime. Quite another to be in your prime of your life and look as worn as someone twice your age.
"Mmgh..." Fox ears, normally relaxed, stand erect and alert as Uka stares at Salem, trying to glean more hints out of that stoic face. How old is this guy? Uka leans forward, stroking his chin. Younger men have that curly broccoli-like hair, but his skin is terrible.
Ugh. Uka bragged that he'd get it exactly right, but he might have to settle for a ballpark range. Not too young, but not all that old either. Forget about the face, what about temperament?
"...Thirty? Thirty." He isn't sure why he thinks Salem is around his age, only that the thought never left him as soon as they started speaking. "Thirty... and born in the autumn. Final answer."
Perfect Teatime? | still accepting
Uka has sharp eyes and intuition to match. That's why he'd probably notice that Salem's eyebrows raise slightly, and that he almost looks impressed.
"I've never had a reason to celebrate the day of my birth. Perhaps you're right," he says cryptically as if to imply that he hasn't kept track of the years either. With a little more information, either dug up by this fox or divulged in strategic pieces by Salem himself, it wouldn't be hard to believe. The unchanging sands of the Aed made it tricky to track the passing seasons, and rarely venturing to the lands beyond meant one remained at its mercy.
Of course, that second part would be a lie. Salem had traveled once he was old enough to play a part in the Archbishop's schemes, and hardly came back to the desert. The Church had also been obsessed with counting the days, because each day marked off the calendar meant another justification for dark god's revenge. Salem knew exactly how old he was, insofar as he could count the years of his tenure as a priest.
Now though, unwilling to give Uka his victory so easily, Salem studies his face as he tops off his cup. His his cheeks are still round, his body gangly like a teenager, and yet those incisive eyes...
"Children your age ordinarily struggle to differentiate one man's decade from another, besides being both 'old.' What if I told you that you were ten years off your mark?"
@natsukoi
