The focused attention from both of them is a little new; at least in this kind of cajoling way. Laedo's mind picks it up and runs with it and he's forced to stand a little straighter, square his shoulders, set his jaw. He looks more imperious if anything, but his thoughts are nowhere near as squeaky clean as he'd like to let on.
"Far be it for me to intercede on your bonding rituals," he concedes, tone lofty and congenial to cover the absolutely filthy expectations that go with it. He knows they know he's a master healer at this point, but he slips a hand to his tight neck regardless, enjoying the pantomime probably more than he should. It's a nod to Evan's suggestion, even if he doesn't agree in words. "If this endless cycle of missions to woe-begotten places has taught me anything, it's that I should be more accepting of the cultures I am steeped in--especially when they make such tempting offers."
Alright, so his facade is slipping a little. His gaze slips back to Meallan, who he of course suspects to be the ringleader. Ever since the two of them had gotten together, the elf has opened Evan up in ways that has had Laedo's approval--and that hasn't just been for this ridiculous coquetry. "Let me then do my part."
By this point, seeing Laedo turn on his heel to jog off to a safe distance in a relatively open field should be fairly common. Same, too, the flash of light expended on replacing the man with a dragon. (Less easy a mark, here, unless they want to be terribly creative... but Laedo has never really let his fantasies roam that wild.) Sheerly considering convenience at this point, he rumbles, "come up. No need to march tired legs down the track all the way to the forest."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-12-11 03:56 pm (UTC)"Far be it for me to intercede on your bonding rituals," he concedes, tone lofty and congenial to cover the absolutely filthy expectations that go with it. He knows they know he's a master healer at this point, but he slips a hand to his tight neck regardless, enjoying the pantomime probably more than he should. It's a nod to Evan's suggestion, even if he doesn't agree in words. "If this endless cycle of missions to woe-begotten places has taught me anything, it's that I should be more accepting of the cultures I am steeped in--especially when they make such tempting offers."
Alright, so his facade is slipping a little. His gaze slips back to Meallan, who he of course suspects to be the ringleader. Ever since the two of them had gotten together, the elf has opened Evan up in ways that has had Laedo's approval--and that hasn't just been for this ridiculous coquetry. "Let me then do my part."
By this point, seeing Laedo turn on his heel to jog off to a safe distance in a relatively open field should be fairly common. Same, too, the flash of light expended on replacing the man with a dragon. (Less easy a mark, here, unless they want to be terribly creative... but Laedo has never really let his fantasies roam that wild.) Sheerly considering convenience at this point, he rumbles, "come up. No need to march tired legs down the track all the way to the forest."