The question is stupid. Inane. At best: a distraction. He discards it.
He doesn't have his staff—his hair is still damp from the baths, privileging the empty early mornings, and he doesn't normally go there armed. It's in his wardrobe, but he doesn't make a move for it. Really, he doesn't need it.
From where Edgard stands, he may catch a distinct smell in the air. Smoke. In the shaft of light coming in through the window, he'll see the faint shape of ashy air beginning to form, all around.
Marcus's eyebrows twitch, a silent suggestion that Edgard try again.
no subject
The question is stupid. Inane. At best: a distraction. He discards it.
He doesn't have his staff—his hair is still damp from the baths, privileging the empty early mornings, and he doesn't normally go there armed. It's in his wardrobe, but he doesn't make a move for it. Really, he doesn't need it.
From where Edgard stands, he may catch a distinct smell in the air. Smoke. In the shaft of light coming in through the window, he'll see the faint shape of ashy air beginning to form, all around.
Marcus's eyebrows twitch, a silent suggestion that Edgard try again.