12-09-2019, 05:20 PM
His silver eyes travel across the edges of her face as she purrs her response. She seems to be near his age, but something about her whispers to him that this is a lie. He even doubts the confidence of her answer, but he doesn't contradict her. Clegane had no reason to expect honesty from a stranger, and the fog of arrogance which surrounds her intrigues instead of offends him. He had spent too much time in the shadows of powerful women to curl his lip at signs of strength. But the sound of her drawing breath to speak again causes his roaming eyes to lift, his gaze leveling on hers and he isn't afraid she will look away.
Violence.
He nods, wondering if it is one she has chosen for herself or was given, wondering if this is something he should ask her. But the skeleton clatters quietly beside its master and his attention reluctantly leaves the beautifully proud face. The usually talkative nomad inspects the collection of bones, assembled artfully to mimic the living, arranged in such a way to be unique even for Beqanna.
"I'm Clegane," he finally says as he looks into the empty place where a horse's eyes once had been. Then his face, scarred and raw as it is, turns again in her direction as he steps aside. "Don't let me stand in your way."
Violence.
He nods, wondering if it is one she has chosen for herself or was given, wondering if this is something he should ask her. But the skeleton clatters quietly beside its master and his attention reluctantly leaves the beautifully proud face. The usually talkative nomad inspects the collection of bones, assembled artfully to mimic the living, arranged in such a way to be unique even for Beqanna.
"I'm Clegane," he finally says as he looks into the empty place where a horse's eyes once had been. Then his face, scarred and raw as it is, turns again in her direction as he steps aside. "Don't let me stand in your way."
