[Swept off into the night air, he finds each step too oddly purposeful for a midnight rendezvous between two individuals seeking... affection. A bit more like a recontre, he thinks, as the tavern light is chased away by the outdoor moon.
Her accusation comes swiftly โ not even an attempt to humor him! Balthier now does attempt to slip his wrist away, to hold up both his (empty) hands and proclaimโ]
Not the sort of whispered nothings I had expected. Now thenโ what dagger, exactly?
[Alas, his hand caught in the proverbial cookie jar. And so... deny.]
no subject
Her accusation comes swiftly โ not even an attempt to humor him! Balthier now does attempt to slip his wrist away, to hold up both his (empty) hands and proclaimโ]
Not the sort of whispered nothings I had expected. Now thenโ what dagger, exactly?
[Alas, his hand caught in the proverbial cookie jar. And so... deny.]