[ falco remains with his back stiff and dares not to talk back. there was hardly much to argue in the first place, he thought, if paul was being as sincere as his tone. obedient thing he was, he takes in the young man’s words and nods, meandering over an emptied, tattered couch and some dusty cushions— that he does the honors of flipping over. at least they won’t sit in dust, that way. ]
Okay, Mister Paul.
[ his gaze goes down, to his side, but the little desert mouse catches his attention faster than the sash across his shoulder and under his cloak, causing his lips to turn up. hanging from his side was a small messenger’s bag, and on his hips— a knife on one side, and a pistol holster in the other. the bag’s contents were more valuable, in this case: the flap is opened to reveal a few vials and clean cotton fabrics. ]
no subject
Okay, Mister Paul.
[ his gaze goes down, to his side, but the little desert mouse catches his attention faster than the sash across his shoulder and under his cloak, causing his lips to turn up. hanging from his side was a small messenger’s bag, and on his hips— a knife on one side, and a pistol holster in the other. the bag’s contents were more valuable, in this case: the flap is opened to reveal a few vials and clean cotton fabrics. ]
I brought my things, too. Just in case.
[ that’s a little first aid kit, he has. ]