#wulfhierde

[halfkete]

little secrets

Nervously, Nah tightened gloved hands around the strap of her bag, eyes trained forward as she walked past the guards at the gate of the monastery. The cooling weather weighed heavy on her, even as she edged ever-closer to the woods.

It was only under the cover of the Sealed Forest that Nah released a heavy breath, winding deeper into the thick foliage. Far away from the monastery, she reached into her bag, pulling out a familiar green stone. With a sigh of relief and a small smile, Nah felt the change flow through her, soft pink scales emerging across her pale skin. 

It was a relief, to let loose after so long, knocking down a tree with a roar as she spread her wings to fly near the treeline. The cool air braced her as she landed heavily, knocking over a few more trees in the process. Settling, Nah nearly screamed as she saw an unfamiliar figure down below, quickly shrinking back down, dragonstone clutched to her chest.

“Wh---I---” She stuttered, unsure how to proceed. How did they treat manakete in Fodlan? Should she run? Find the others and hide? “Who....don’t you know it’s dangerous to stand so near a dragon?” ( @wulfhierde )

[toconquerfate]

[Sparkling water] Curious whispers about the king of Nohr joining the lowly ranks of the monastery's faculty have made their rounds amidst the clergy, dismissed then as nothing but a rumor. But here stands the very subject in-person, paling even the gossip with his somber regality. Aelfric is transfixed, as if encountering a full-maned lion for the first time, but his clerical duty to offer humble hospitality spurs him forward with a glass in hand. "May I offer you something to drink, Xander?"

This whole affair has been nerve-wracking, with people young and old swirling to and fro with varying levels of elegance and training, not being allowed to leave due to his position as a professor (and thus chaperone). He finds himself largely remaining to the edges of the festivities (in part because the clustering of individuals there is smaller, which makes it feel easier to breathe,) but his imposing stature has made many reticent to approach, something he’s quite thankful for. Which means the priest’s approach surprises him, and he jolts slightly upon being addressed, though he regains his strong posture near instantaneously.

“Ah- no thank you, sir, though I appreciate the offer.” He pauses, glancing at the man’s attire. “Oh, my apologies, I don’t believe we’ve met- though it seems rumors travel rather quickly if you already know of my name. What is yours, if you do not mind my asking? We are both employed by the same organization currently. after all.”

[regalblades]

[Tea] There's something familiar about the steely-eyed man who watches from the periphery of the room. The insignia of the Knights of Seiros seems ill-matched to the rest of him, bearing instead not unlike the hardened mercenaries and wanted criminals hiding in Abyss. Aelfric approaches with two cups and offers one with a gentle smile. "Lloyd, was it?" he asks. "I hope you don't mind the Albinean blend. Or some company."

Now there’s a forgettable face if he’s ever seen one. It’s almost impressive how ordinary the man seems to be, especially when surrounded by so many… unique individuals. That isn’t to say it is a bad thing—blending in is a useful trait to have more often than not. “I don’t mind,” he says, taking the offered cup and watching as steam rises from it. He seldom ever drinks tea, though he does somewhat recall that the Albinean blend is among the sweeter of its kind; the fragrance of it alone is enough to draw interest if nothing else.

A brief glance towards his newly-acquired company, and Lloyd wonders if an ulterior motive is at play beneath the kind, gentle demeanor. It’s possible he’s reading into it too much, that an act of generosity can be simply that, yet he also knows that there is often more to a person than what is on the surface—knows it perhaps too well. (The tea is pleasant. At the very least, the other man had chosen well.)

Hazel eyes return to observing the merriment from afar. “Lively, aren’t they?” It is only natural—for many, the ball is a once-in-a-lifetime event; enjoying it to the fullest will make for strong memories in their later years. Even one such as him cannot fault them for that.