I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
The scowling pegasus expects very little of this trip, and at first, it seems his expectations will be fully met. Until it becomes clear they would be far exceeded. The gleaming blue of the woman that slinks from the trees is unfamiliar, but when his eyes fall to the wood thrusting unnaturally from her chest, his scowl darkens. He would very much like to be able to claim a madness that afflicts his memory so that he wouldn’t have to recall where he had seen that before, but Ashhal meets few enough others these days that he could claim no such thing.
To say he had been unimpressed with their last encounter however would be an understatement. It’s far more surprising for Ashhal to meet someone he likes rather than dislikes, but his introduction to her had stood out for the opposite reason. If there is anything Ashhal dislikes more than a normal conversation, it is an abnormal one. That she thought she knew him so well at the end of it had only irritated him more. So much so that he’d left rather than give her what she had so clearly craved (a feat in and of itself, considering it rarely takes much to push him into offering it).
He’d forgotten about the encounter entirely however. At least, until she’d stepped from the trees, obviously the woman they had come here to meet. “Fucking hell.” The words are muttered under his breath, though both Tarian and Sabra could undoubtedly hear them if they strained their ears enough.
Goddamn it all, he should have asked more fucking questions. Pressing his lips together in a thin line, he says nothing more. His expression would undoubtedly do all the talking for him. And in any case, he sure as hell has nothing more he wants to say to her. Or Tarian, for that matter. Not that he could have possibly known they’d met before, but that doesn’t stop him from holding a grudge.
@Sabra @Tarian