|.
Thane's smile might have been forced, but Zhol's wasn't. It wasn't large, and it may have been relief as much as anything else; but it was there, it had a glimmer of warmth, and it was genuine.
Silently, Zhol sized up his new acquaintance, trying to get a read on him. That he was an Avora was a conclusion he had already drawn, and that everything since had more or less confirmed. His appearance still left something of an enigma though: the Inarta attitude seemed so deeply ingrained in him that he had surely been indoctrinated by it since birth; yet the man's hair was throwing him off. Was this some rare occasional occurrence for an Inarta? Some extremely dark shade of red that Zhol was unfamiliar with? Or, had his father been from outside the city, perhaps? Zhol would have asked; but given that the number of Inarta he'd met who had seemed to know the identity of their father was exactly zero, he doubted the conversation would have progressed very far.
Stranger was his manner, though. There was more going on beneath the surface than Zhol could discern, and thus far his reactions had seemed to differ from what Zhol would have expected; sometimes subtly, sometimes wildly. It was as if the path of Thane's thoughts was taking surprising turns, and kept finding itself at a completely unexpected destination. Slowly, Zhol began to realise that Thane was gradually revealing himself to be Zhol's favourite kind of person: an enigma.
"You are welcome -" Zhol began to reply; a frown creased his brow as he considered Thane's implied assertion that Zhol's advice being helpful was surprising. "- I think."
A simple question formed in Zhol's mind; an oversight on his part that, with the pony's wellbeing seen to at least for the short term, knotted his stomach with guilt. Quietly, he nodded towards the wreckage, and asked: "The Chiet. What was his name?"
Silently, Zhol sized up his new acquaintance, trying to get a read on him. That he was an Avora was a conclusion he had already drawn, and that everything since had more or less confirmed. His appearance still left something of an enigma though: the Inarta attitude seemed so deeply ingrained in him that he had surely been indoctrinated by it since birth; yet the man's hair was throwing him off. Was this some rare occasional occurrence for an Inarta? Some extremely dark shade of red that Zhol was unfamiliar with? Or, had his father been from outside the city, perhaps? Zhol would have asked; but given that the number of Inarta he'd met who had seemed to know the identity of their father was exactly zero, he doubted the conversation would have progressed very far.
Stranger was his manner, though. There was more going on beneath the surface than Zhol could discern, and thus far his reactions had seemed to differ from what Zhol would have expected; sometimes subtly, sometimes wildly. It was as if the path of Thane's thoughts was taking surprising turns, and kept finding itself at a completely unexpected destination. Slowly, Zhol began to realise that Thane was gradually revealing himself to be Zhol's favourite kind of person: an enigma.
"You are welcome -" Zhol began to reply; a frown creased his brow as he considered Thane's implied assertion that Zhol's advice being helpful was surprising. "- I think."
A simple question formed in Zhol's mind; an oversight on his part that, with the pony's wellbeing seen to at least for the short term, knotted his stomach with guilt. Quietly, he nodded towards the wreckage, and asked: "The Chiet. What was his name?"
"Pavi" | "Common" | "Nari" | "Symenos"
This template was made by Khara. She was bribed with coffee and jammy dodgers.
This template was made by Khara. She was bribed with coffee and jammy dodgers.