[The smile she gives him in reply is warm, though here there is some measure of reserve. Something like that, but consider more seriously—]
And because it is something like a matter of professional pride, and you and I have been employed very differently, I think. A bird doesn't appreciate what a fish does.
Though come to think of it, I'm no lover of heights either. Perhaps a scorpion and a housecat would be a better analogy, hm? You do like to be scratched behind the ear.
[Her laugh is a low approving chuckle - dark and warm like some tart spiced wine and very pleasant indeed in the crisp-bordering-on-cold night air as they make their way down the long face of the Gallows.]
I'm fairly certain there are as many opinions on your posting as there are members of Riftwatch. But you're very good at flattery, Byerly.
I'm being serious! Flattery only works if you pick out something truly marvelous about the person. If it's a lie, they'll know it, and you'll have failed.
The stitching together of their tiny little pelts is impressively done. It's hardly noticeable at all unless you hold them up to a very strong light. I don't know how you accomplished it.
Well, there's so much to be done with it. That's the advantage of running with all these apostates and maleficarum and heathens. We're all so innovative.
I'll keep that in mind when next I say my prayers.
[She cinches herself a little closer to him by way of the connection between their arms. A gust of wind skates up from the water. She drums her fingers just there against his forearm and does not tuck her face against his shoulder against the evening but for a moment it's as if—]
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And because it is something like a matter of professional pride, and you and I have been employed very differently, I think. A bird doesn't appreciate what a fish does.
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[She wrinkles her nose.]
Though come to think of it, I'm no lover of heights either. Perhaps a scorpion and a housecat would be a better analogy, hm? You do like to be scratched behind the ear.
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[ He shakes his head at her. ]
Here I am, a good Fereldan fellow, and you're not even tempted by dog?
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Anyway, you are far too nimble to be a hound. I'm afraid you must accept the offense to your patriotic sensibilities.
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[ And, easily: ]
Better by far than scorpion suits you. Honestly.
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Do you have a better suggestion?
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A polecat.
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I'm fairly certain there are as many opinions on your posting as there are members of Riftwatch. But you're very good at flattery, Byerly.
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I'm being serious! Flattery only works if you pick out something truly marvelous about the person. If it's a lie, they'll know it, and you'll have failed.
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https://i.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/mobile/000/030/781/kombuchaahh.jpg
My, if only the Chantry knew its applications were so flexible.
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[She cinches herself a little closer to him by way of the connection between their arms. A gust of wind skates up from the water. She drums her fingers just there against his forearm and does not tuck her face against his shoulder against the evening but for a moment it's as if—]
Are you going to tell me?
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I wished to let you know, my dear Fitcher, that I shan't be pursuing you any longer.
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This is not on it.
She blinks at him, both eyebrows rising high to her hairline. Her arm, looped so easily in his a moment ago, somehow stills—
And then an instant later her surprise is moderated. Checked. Fitcher's attention turns from Byerly to the way ahead of them.]
I see.
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