gaza
See, the funny thing about Gaza is that he was, at one time, a veritable Prince. Now he is not, so he supposes that he will never be anyone’s Prince Charming, despite his dedication to upping the Charm factor. As for ladies, well, the dainty ones remind him of his mother, so they’re pretty much out. No one wants to marry their mother (although… he is a nice Jewish boy, so that statement is debatable if we’re looking at stereotypes). Also - Princesses don’t run well in heels and Gaza wants someone who can chase the camels with him, not stand by the side and complain that he is getting sand in her hair.
Because he’s a boy, Gaza didn’t notice the flowers in her mane, but as she jerks her head up in surprise, he finds his eyes are drawn to the leafy bits there, and the corners of his mouth twitch. It’s cute.
“Can’t blame you,” he starts off, “Fresh Spring grass is pretty awesome. I’m Gaza, by the way.” He pauses, not wanting to interrupt her astute observations. She seems nervous, but it might just be his imagination - did all women skitter around like that? No, not to his recollection. So yes, she must be nervous. Which is also slightly amusing, because Gaza is the least intimidating ex-Prince, goofball out there. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many butterflies... we never see them in the Desert. It’s too hot there, no trees… I wonder what’s drawing them. Where are you from? Do you like it there?” Gaza stops himself, not wanting to bombard the semingly shy Eld with questions. He only asks because she must be from someplace green, judging by the flora caught up in her hair. And Gaza has yet to decide where he wants to live… he has yet to be persuaded either way.
vanquish x yael