[Lifted up, it’s almost dizzying, being small enough to be cupped in someone’s palms. Though “small” is relative — for a bit, he’s big enough that his wings drape over Winter’s touch, dangling, as he’s brought to the spa’s edge.
He immediately dips a wing in!
…And waits. Moments pass. An unfortunately, all Astarion is rewarded with is a wet wing.]
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He immediately dips a wing in!
…And waits. Moments pass. An unfortunately, all Astarion is rewarded with is a wet wing.]
Is this— is this all just some cosmic joke.
[Flops down in Winter’s hands, defeated.]