💭
He turns his head, gold curls spill loosely over a narrow, silk-clad shoulder as his gaze wanders to the Keeper pointed out to him. Slender brows lift, and Tani’s fingertips catch against one another, nails click-clicking together as his tongue drifts across the painted bow of his lower lip in abject thought. That too-thick tail of his stirs by his side, before it merely lifts, and tethers about his waist, looping around the boned corseting of his robe to cinch tightly to his willowy frame.
“He’s a Keeper.” He says, voice soft — as if to ensure he won’t be overheard. “That makes him quite lovely to me.” He decides, wandering gaze turning discerning as it drifts across the unfamiliar frame. “He’s tall, an’ handsome; his face paint is even lovelier.” He shifts, easing one leg upon the other until his hands lace together within his lap.
“He looks like a fighter. Though, maybe all that extravagant clothin’ is to cover up somethin’ else, some insecurity of his. Men do that often, you know? Wear armour to cover up their narrow shoulders, or their thin arms. Plate can do plenty to make a man look fierce, an’ he definitely looks fierce. Wild, too. I think-.. I like that.” his words drop to a solemn murmur.
“He looks like he might have a little bit of bite. I like men with bite.” He remarks, softly; gaze dropping to his hands as his fingers splay, and his attention lowers to his painted claws, admiring them in idle thought as a permissive little hum leaves him, prim, and quiet.
“..can’t say I’d mind a new footstool, or another cup of tea. Will you fetch it for me?” His lips pull into a thin smile.
