Set
When the Chamber had re-emerged, it had called him home like the proverbial siren. In the time since then, he’d done little else but patronize old haunts, his presence easy enough to conceal from (nearly) anyone he deigned, given the skills he’s acquired over nearly a dozen decades. A hermit emerged from a lengthy sabbatical, the only sign that he is caught unawares at the presence of the first is a brief tensing of the muscles along his back, the twitch of a whisker. He takes one and then another bite before discarding the fish and turning back toward the half-frozen lake. Padding closer, but not so close that the stranger might flee, he sits on the bank’s edge with a tilt of his head in that curious manner that otters do, as if her question requires deep thought. He smiles suddenly several breaths later and somehow it’s not menacing, despite its (albeit small) toothiness. If you asked him he’d tell you it’s because he looks rather adorable in this form. Cheeky bugger.
“Sometimes yes and sometimes no?” He thinks she might understand his reply, where others would call it cryptic. “Though,” and he smiles wider, “I’ve never been a just anything. I don't think I would care for that.”
She’s young, that much he can tell. Obviously comfortable in the cold water - he’d had to suppress the urge to gasp when he’d plunged into it - and clearly not entirely equine. Are any of them, anymore? It’s been a long time since he was, back when the kingdoms were separated by haves and have nots. He sets about washing up, licking his paws and running them over his face. Briefly, his gaze slides from water’s surface to the silent goat queen on the southern shore, taking in the cloven hooves and ... is that a beard?. He grins again, letting loose of his otter form, original Set restored, and shaking out his dreadlocked mane with a low groan before addressing the girl again. “Surely there are warmer waters to lurk in.” He dips his head lower. “That bearded creep a friend of yours?” he asks in a whisper conspiratorially, the gold of his eyes bright with mischief as he tilts his head in Kreed's direction.
“Sometimes yes and sometimes no?” He thinks she might understand his reply, where others would call it cryptic. “Though,” and he smiles wider, “I’ve never been a just anything. I don't think I would care for that.”
She’s young, that much he can tell. Obviously comfortable in the cold water - he’d had to suppress the urge to gasp when he’d plunged into it - and clearly not entirely equine. Are any of them, anymore? It’s been a long time since he was, back when the kingdoms were separated by haves and have nots. He sets about washing up, licking his paws and running them over his face. Briefly, his gaze slides from water’s surface to the silent goat queen on the southern shore, taking in the cloven hooves and ... is that a beard?. He grins again, letting loose of his otter form, original Set restored, and shaking out his dreadlocked mane with a low groan before addressing the girl again. “Surely there are warmer waters to lurk in.” He dips his head lower. “That bearded creep a friend of yours?” he asks in a whisper conspiratorially, the gold of his eyes bright with mischief as he tilts his head in Kreed's direction.
ooc - the more the merrier! I am just so excited to have replies <3 bear with me as I learn how to write again!
@Orieta