[Oh, well--hello! Iskierka doesn't often have people talk to her when she's working and the novelty is enough to momentarily divert her attention. She swoops up to stick to one wall of the tunnel, cocking her head at Vyng with a saucy flick of her antennae (and pseudo-coremata, rowr). What's an observant fellow like him doing in the middle of an avalanche like this?
It comes as no surprise whatever to Illarion that his Omen is also an incorrigible flirt.]
Darkblood, [he calls down. ...And then actually thinks about that.] ...You are maybe thinking what I am thinking?
[It could make weapons lighter... How much would he need to enchant a person?
(No, Illarion, it's a terrible idea to spill that much blood.)]
no subject
It comes as no surprise whatever to Illarion that his Omen is also an incorrigible flirt.]
Darkblood, [he calls down. ...And then actually thinks about that.] ...You are maybe thinking what I am thinking?
[It could make weapons lighter... How much would he need to enchant a person?
(No, Illarion, it's a terrible idea to spill that much blood.)]