It's been a while since they got to see anyone new. Well, a while to grubs. A little over a month, Ghost estimates, since Ze'mer had convinced her beloved Mantis Ambassador to visit. The little moths had flocked behind her until Hazewing distracted them a few times.
Grubs need enrichment. This walk is enrichment, and new people are enrichment, as well as something they like. Quirrel is reasonable on all counts.
Ghost gives a noncommittal hand-wave to both questions. He needn't worry...and they're focusing more on their surroundings as much as they are teasing.
They stride behind stalls and into a narrow opening between buildings as though they belong. Which they do, technically. Few would try to bar them from anywhere; there's an unfortunate habit of denizens to look away from those above. As evidenced by the den of torture the Soul Sanctum turned out to be.
Perhaps they're being uncharitable. They're a Knight, trusted for deed as well as word; tearing the Sanctum apart and rescuing the few left is something they take pride in.
They lightly shake their head in the shadows and fold onto a convenient stoop. Undignified for even a noble, they give it no notice as their wings drop away.
Seven little faces draw back on Ghost's lap and fix stares on Quirrel's face.
no subject
Grubs need enrichment. This walk is enrichment, and new people are enrichment, as well as something they like. Quirrel is reasonable on all counts.
Ghost gives a noncommittal hand-wave to both questions. He needn't worry...and they're focusing more on their surroundings as much as they are teasing.
They stride behind stalls and into a narrow opening between buildings as though they belong. Which they do, technically. Few would try to bar them from anywhere; there's an unfortunate habit of denizens to look away from those above. As evidenced by the den of torture the Soul Sanctum turned out to be.
Perhaps they're being uncharitable. They're a Knight, trusted for deed as well as word; tearing the Sanctum apart and rescuing the few left is something they take pride in.
They lightly shake their head in the shadows and fold onto a convenient stoop. Undignified for even a noble, they give it no notice as their wings drop away.
Seven little faces draw back on Ghost's lap and fix stares on Quirrel's face.