i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high
He can see the hesitation and embarrassment in the memories that assault her in the wake of his prying question. It had to be uncomfortable realizing that he understood her inability to help if he had genuinely needed it. Aside from her lack of healing abilities, while she is not a particularly small mare, he is still larger. And heavier, weighted down as he is by the bone armor jutting through his skin.
His grin widens at her stammered response.
She is clever enough though, he would give her that. She responds in the only way that makes any sort of sense for her, and Reave chuckles at that. He can’t seem to help himself. He cares little that she lacks any sort of tendency towards compassion (he too lacks those very same things). It’s far more fun when they are susceptible to the recklessness pulsing in his soul, and that sort of creature is rarely found in someone with a gentle, healing heart.
“There are and they have,” he replies casually to her question, wicked amusement written across the shrouded lines of his face. “And yet, here I stand bleeding as though they never did.”
He shrugs carelessly before shifting and splashing from the water onto the bank. The clear, sharp blue of his gaze remains fixed on her, curiosity lurking in those brilliant depths. He grins at her next question. He wouldn’t know whether it is rude or not, nor would he care. Reave has always been given to speaking his mind. Whether he should or not, he rarely cares, and if others find him rude… well, that is their problem to solve, isn’t it?
Which is not to say he is a cruel or callous man. He isn’t that, though neither would anyone call him kind.
“Yes.” His reply is simple and honest. The gleam in his eye is far less so. “You get used to it,” he adds with amusement before introducing himself. “I’m Reave.”
reave
@Djuna