( By and large, the rifters do not greatly interest Galatea. They were strange when she'd only heard of their like, and stranger now that she's seen a few in the flesh, and for the most part she thinks little about them beyond their practical applications (—the rifts, you see) because there is a great deal else to think of, each and every day. But now she has fought alongside one or two, and while the other large elves are stranger still—
this big one feels more...correct. And therefore, more pressingly interesting, especially when she admires the similarity in his fighting style.
The running up the back of demons. She liked when he ran up the back of a demon, it was cool, it looked way easier than doing it her way, and she's never really been in these situations before, ordinarily someone beneath her knives is also beneath leather bindings, in a basement somewhere, long story, she's not nearly so Dalish as those tattoos suggest to an untrained eye.
So she seeks him out, after, when they're encamped; apparently unbothered by whatever it is (it's his personality) that seems to have given him such otherwise unfettered personal space this evening. Sits down, a tiny little thing in rogue leathers with a flower swiped from the side of their impromptu battlefield tucked behind her ear and a sunny smile that has been known to be considered mildly unsettling— )
You are very good at this.
( The murdering. What a pro! This is, apparently, an opening gambit of some description. )
questing wildcard.
this big one feels more...correct. And therefore, more pressingly interesting, especially when she admires the similarity in his fighting style.
The running up the back of demons. She liked when he ran up the back of a demon, it was cool, it looked way easier than doing it her way, and she's never really been in these situations before, ordinarily someone beneath her knives is also beneath leather bindings, in a basement somewhere, long story, she's not nearly so Dalish as those tattoos suggest to an untrained eye.
So she seeks him out, after, when they're encamped; apparently unbothered by whatever it is (it's his personality) that seems to have given him such otherwise unfettered personal space this evening. Sits down, a tiny little thing in rogue leathers with a flower swiped from the side of their impromptu battlefield tucked behind her ear and a sunny smile that has been known to be considered mildly unsettling— )
You are very good at this.
( The murdering. What a pro! This is, apparently, an opening gambit of some description. )