[ Marazhai huffs out a laugh that’s as sharp as he gaze, and it seems like he has a pithy comment ready, but the way that the air changes steals it from him. His impression is already intense at a baseline, but that change pulls out something else. He sucks in a breath and his pupils dilate as he braces himself with a grin for what he’s sure will be (exquisite) pain, because he expects something else. A crushing of a limb, a boiling of blood—psykers could be just as creative as Drukhari, he’s found. Even disarmed, he’s certain that first taste of pain is all he needs to surge forward and break this little mon-keigh in two.
…So, when it’s simply his flowers being pulled away from him, he’s a bit incredulous. The tension remains for a moment, and then he relaxes again as a scowl sets in. ]
Hhh— [ It’s a hissed out sound, more animalistic than anything, but he follows after the flowers as he steps into the chapel. ] And here I was expecting more from a mon-keigh witch.
[ This would be a taunt in the world he came from, but here? Less so. Significantly. The Drukhari has more than a little culture shock to navigate. For example, he had understood that he was trying to hunt down the person who held the same flowers, but he hadn’t fully grasped the rest. Or perhaps just hadn’t listened. ]
no subject
…So, when it’s simply his flowers being pulled away from him, he’s a bit incredulous. The tension remains for a moment, and then he relaxes again as a scowl sets in. ]
Hhh— [ It’s a hissed out sound, more animalistic than anything, but he follows after the flowers as he steps into the chapel. ] And here I was expecting more from a mon-keigh witch.
[ This would be a taunt in the world he came from, but here? Less so. Significantly. The Drukhari has more than a little culture shock to navigate. For example, he had understood that he was trying to hunt down the person who held the same flowers, but he hadn’t fully grasped the rest. Or perhaps just hadn’t listened. ]
The game was mentioned. But not its conclusion.