[open] chivalry fell upon his sword

[Gale]

Gale idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword. innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know Gale becomes quite still as his eyes meet those of another. The lightning continues to flash, illuminating the falling snow around them, and for a while his unblinking eyes take that in as well. Though he tries not to think of the origin of his own magic, he cannot help but wonder where hers might be from. Was she something born of  the elements, or a mortal blessed by the fae? He cannot tell by looking, and his looking is thorough. This is not uninteresting, and so he replies with a “Hello,” delayed only a single beat past comfortable tension. She’s coming closer, so Gale sidesteps. “Thunder.” He adds, as though the single word explains why he intends to keep his distance. And perhaps it will to her, who’s more likely to have experienced the shockwave of sensation than most. “Gale. I’m Gale.” This is not the first time he’s reorientated himself to socialization, but he was odd even on his best days. He’s not trying to scare this particular stranger away, and he finds his gaze traveling once more back to the lightning as it flickers along her silver sides. He considers asking if she’s ever tried to rid herself of the lightning, but even rusty as he is with interactions that feels somehow impolite. “How long have you been like that?” he asks instead, gesturing with his muzzle to encompass the lightning. @Cordis