chikaidestroyer | ∞ 52: Patience [action]

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∞ 52: Patience [action]

[Considering what's been going on with his housemates recently (that is, Raine working herself into sickness), it should come as little surprise that Albert is out of the house. Unlike most of his other outings, he is notably astride his white horse as he travels through the village.

The horse seems to want to wander off and look at the various things in the village square. Albert tries his best to be patient with his steed's curiosity, though he did have somewhere he wanted to go.]

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[Sometimes he wonders just how many people had never seen a horse before. No one seemed awfully confused to see most of the other wildlife, like the birds and fish and deer... But horses? Perhaps that was why there were no horses found in the wild in Luceti.]

It's called a horse. A fairly common mount in my world, though hardly the only kind.

[a pause] Her name is Astrid.

[they have mounts in Auldrant, but they look nothing like horses]

I see. ...Is she friendly?

She's quiet, but very gentle. I'm not quite sure what I would do if she was a ... chatterbox.

Oh, that's right. Animals speak here.

[hesitant, but she comes closer to the horse and holds out a hand] May I? [hint: not asking Albert]

[Astrid tilts his head so she can look at Nephry, then nudges the proffered hand with her snout. Albert watches closely.]

One of the conveniences of being able to speak to animals here.

[rests a hand on Astrid's snout, rubbing lightly along between her eyes] You really are quite gentle, aren't you?

[and she looks up at Albert, something in her expression just off enough that he might be able to tell she feels poorly]

...Is it difficult to eat meat here, then?

Not particularly. [This is a man whose occupation sees people die fairly often.] Perhaps some abstain from eating meat here, but I don't inquire on those topics on a regular basis.

[He eyes Nephry for a moment.] Seasonal allergies?

I meant since...well, it seems like your eventual dinner would try to talk to you.

[she looks up at him with a raised eyebrow] Seasons? [not that she expects him to know Keterburg is practically arctic. Just a pleasant reply]

The stores provide us with meat already de-fleshed and cleaned, if your conscience weighs down on you so much as to not kill a talking animal.

[a long look is your reward] Seasons. Spring, summer, autumn, and winter.

Of course. I know what the seasons are. ...All but one of those is snow-covered in my home.

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