[ A corner of his mouth twitches, as if possessed by the need to attempt a smile. ]
It's something I'm very much used to.
[ He had thought death would be quieter, a reunion between those he had loved. Lost. Catti-brie with her broad shoulders and strong arms, Wulfgar's bone-crushing embrace and Bruenor's booming voice; the delicate pinch of Regis's fingers pilfering into his pockets, Cadderly's distant memory — his father, still and calm and at peace.
Instead, he finds a war. And none of them — which means, he is different. He was bred for this, born for it, and devoted to it long before he ever had a choice. Every choice he would take would be in defiance, but there was no doubt that he was made for this sort of thing. Familiarity brought its own kind of mind-numbing focus, the leverage of continuing its own challenge, riding weary in his chest and eyes. ]
Hello, Tezcatlipoca. [ As he slips his hand into the other's, his own voice rolls over the name with obscene fluidity, a perfect mimicry of the friction and lilt. Elves of his sort are like starlings, dark little things with voices and mannerisms that copy and lie. But also? ] I'm Drizzt.
[ His own name has some hard consonants, too.
Gently, he tests again: ] Wouldn't you like to see it for yourself? Up close, and not at a distance. What one sees with their own eyes is often better than second-hand knowledge.
no subject
It's something I'm very much used to.
[ He had thought death would be quieter, a reunion between those he had loved. Lost. Catti-brie with her broad shoulders and strong arms, Wulfgar's bone-crushing embrace and Bruenor's booming voice; the delicate pinch of Regis's fingers pilfering into his pockets, Cadderly's distant memory — his father, still and calm and at peace.
Instead, he finds a war. And none of them — which means, he is different. He was bred for this, born for it, and devoted to it long before he ever had a choice. Every choice he would take would be in defiance, but there was no doubt that he was made for this sort of thing. Familiarity brought its own kind of mind-numbing focus, the leverage of continuing its own challenge, riding weary in his chest and eyes. ]
Hello, Tezcatlipoca. [ As he slips his hand into the other's, his own voice rolls over the name with obscene fluidity, a perfect mimicry of the friction and lilt. Elves of his sort are like starlings, dark little things with voices and mannerisms that copy and lie. But also? ] I'm Drizzt.
[ His own name has some hard consonants, too.
Gently, he tests again: ] Wouldn't you like to see it for yourself? Up close, and not at a distance. What one sees with their own eyes is often better than second-hand knowledge.