For the first time, Mael thought he could tell that his companion was actually young, as opposed to just looking youthful due to the slowing. It was not something he could really put his finger on, nothing… obvious, but when she spoke of her family — the people within her home on wheels — there was an undertone of pain he could recognise, a wound no longer raw and bleeding but neither completely faded. It made her smile no less vibrant, her dark eyes no less full of life; all it did was make him feel old and washed out in comparison.
This is precisely why you need to get out more. He could almost hear Alastair’s voice speak the words — and, Light, he’d much preferred it when it was Marle getting on his case instead of Alastair’s ghost.
Inwardly telling Alastair to bugger off, he nodded slowly. “A good place to stay,” he repeated. “Yes. It already is that, I think.” He cast another sideways glance towards his companion. “…Thank you.”
And this was the part where he was supposed to do his part to carry the conversation instead of letting her do all the work, but that was easier said than done. Well. Easier thought than done.
The Tower grounds gave way to the city proper. Hama Valon was alive all around them despite the late hour. Music drifted from a tavern somewhere; there a group of working men walked down the street, talking and laughing; there a well-dressed woman strode purposefully in the other direction, a maid trailing after her. Few people seemed to pay much attention to the lady in red and the man accompanying her.
“It’s not very old, is it?” Mael spoke again, looking around. “The city. Compared to other major cities in the Westlands, that is.”
This is precisely why you need to get out more. He could almost hear Alastair’s voice speak the words — and, Light, he’d much preferred it when it was Marle getting on his case instead of Alastair’s ghost.
Inwardly telling Alastair to bugger off, he nodded slowly. “A good place to stay,” he repeated. “Yes. It already is that, I think.” He cast another sideways glance towards his companion. “…Thank you.”
And this was the part where he was supposed to do his part to carry the conversation instead of letting her do all the work, but that was easier said than done. Well. Easier thought than done.
The Tower grounds gave way to the city proper. Hama Valon was alive all around them despite the late hour. Music drifted from a tavern somewhere; there a group of working men walked down the street, talking and laughing; there a well-dressed woman strode purposefully in the other direction, a maid trailing after her. Few people seemed to pay much attention to the lady in red and the man accompanying her.
“It’s not very old, is it?” Mael spoke again, looking around. “The city. Compared to other major cities in the Westlands, that is.”