#fayruns

if anything proved that the impossible was possible, it was their survival. by all counts, they should be dead. they shouldn't be left standing as they were with the tadpoles in their heads, much less narrowly avoiding death each time. lae'zel had said it herself : they should be mind flayers by now. there was clearly someone looking out for them, or perhaps some divine entity keeping them safe. or they were just lucky.

❛ i can hardly blame you. ❜ she mutters quietly, her bow feeling heavier against her back then normal. even if her mind seemed to thrive on disturbing feelings, she also didn't like this place. it doesn't quite help that they just killed a handful of disturbingly large spiders, and she's pretty sure they just passed a trio of corpses strung up like dolls.

* 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝟑: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏.

* 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝟑: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏.

“no,”   the drow elf agreed quietly.  he'd settled at the bar of the last light inn some time ago,  hood of his cloak drawn up to conceal his features from glances that were at best questioning and at worst distrusting.  it was fine,   though;   he didn't care much for the harpers,  either,  and they would find their energy well matched.

he'd kept to himself mostly throughout their unwilling adventure,  preferring to say little unless addressed.  he was surprised when she spoke to him,  no matter how much or how little interest she had in him.  he'd been content to remain in silence,  a small figure leaning against the countertop with a mug of beer clasped in a slender hand.  

astarion isn't sure either why he can't let the matter rest. maybe because he's had to beg, borrow and steal for any crumbs of kindness he's received in his life, and ines gives it so freely. at least this time, he only had to say 'please'. ines doesn't have it in her to be sadistic or withholding. there's still blood smeared around his lips, on his fangs, on his tongue. astarion has always been a messy eater, even as a fledgling. he wipes away what he can, cleaning his fingertips with a quick suck before turning back to ines. "my mind is finally clear. i feel so strong. i feel ... happy," he rasps, sounding almost in disbelief at this revelation. his head is no longer pounding and even more groundbreaking, he's broken one of cazador's most prolific rules. it feels .. liberating. astarion doesn't trust himself to not drink more from ines' throat without losing control, but that little sip isn't enough to satiate him. satiety in general is a new concept to him. astarion takes a few steps backwards, putting some distance between them as he keeps his gaze steady on her, watching for the slightest microexpression or movement like a predator would it's prey. a few steps more, and the rich scent of iron no longer permeates his nostrils. "i do. this is a gift, you know. i won't forget it, ines," he confesses, a soft expression on his face that quickly hardens before he turns around to slink off into the forest. no harm will come to her -- be it absolutists or illithids -- while he's around.