@kellbishop
Atanu had- for once doing something himself -carrying along a canvas that he had set out to dry in the garden in a private little corner. Oil paints were annoying like that, and yet at the same time to beautiful and worth it. He didn't trust anyone else ever to touch his art, so, the councilman was bringing it back to his suite after keeping a close eye on it for a few hours. He was in the quarters of the councilman's suites when a door down the hall from his own opened.
If he remembered correctly, that was Tiernan's suite, but the man who emerged was not him. Curious like a cat, his head tilted, the painting carefully being set to the floor as he watched the cambion grow closer before he decided to speak. "Greetings," He mused, voice light and welcoming, "Given your lack of escort, am I right to assume you're the Irish councilman's?" He didn't keep up with his colleagues pets, he had his own things to worry- obsess, really -over.














