He has never been accused of having a great deal of tact. And most certainly never of having developed much in the way of critical thinking. The day would undoubtedly come that he would need to do so, but for now he is simply a child living the careless life of youth, buoyed by the easy acceptance of all those he’d encountered so far.
With the darkness as little obstacle for him, it is easy to pick up on the things that might otherwise be missed. He frequently forgets that his sight has been enhanced, that not everyone has his talent with vision. He only remembers when he steals into others visual memories, the darkness of the world a blunt reminder. Of course, many of the animals he encounters have sight suited much better to the darkness than a horse (a discovery he’d made almost immediately upon the descent of this endless night and co-opted to his own ends), but it is frustrating when he does find one that is not so well suited.
At the moment however, that is neither here nor there. She seems confused by his blunt question, causing his brows to furrow as his lips slip into a frown. But then clarity seems to strike and she offers a rather excited explanation, even going so far as the prance in a circle to better display her glowing limbs.
Tilting his head, Reave eyes her curiously, mind catching on the mention of a most unusual creature. If there is anything certain to catch his attention, it is the unusual. “What kind of creature?” he asks, barely keeping himself from interrupting her. “Was it a monster?” It is undoubtedly impolite of him to probe so much, but curiosity drives him far more than politeness ever has. So much so that almost immediately on the heels of his as yet unanswered questions, he presses for more. “What did he do? Did it hurt?”
reave
@[Memorie] sorry for the wait! I somehow missed you reply in my last to do