[For a long moment he's silent. Watching Isaac and the bird, trying to pick out whatever it was that went unsaid, whatever it was that the forgemaster is playing at here. He cannot tell at the moment- his ability to read him seems off. They'd never been quietly contemplative with one another without the addition of wine.
Which would be a lovely addition to the conversation at this point. Alas, there was none to be had. He will make do.]
action
Which would be a lovely addition to the conversation at this point. Alas, there was none to be had. He will make do.]
They can be fickle creatures, Crows.
[It's said slowly. Carefully.]
Their attentions fleeting.