Machiavellian, my dear
#9
Eeep, so sorry I neglected this! Anyway, Seb isn't looking to join just yet. He'll want to scout out a few more packs.




Sebastian followed her unquestioningly, only an indulgent smile and a bow offered as she began her speech before his face relaxed calmly. He didn't interrupt with his own judgements, but stayed quiet until she had finished. Shawchert Menue, founding members, a vicious blizzard, and the death of a child. For a moment, the sun seemed cold. Could he stay where such a tragedy took place? It had been long ago, certainly, but still. Tragic events left marks.

But then, so did good ones.

The Border Tree. A thing of power and beauty, like a far-off lightning storm. It was a huge tree, adorned with all manner of art. Paint, carvings, ornaments, pictures. Ranging from heartfelt to abstract. A faint look of awe was clear on his face as he took a step closer to the tree, crossing his arms in front off his chest and looking up at the immense landmark. It was quite a sight.

"It is beautiful," he said simply, gazing at the work of art for another few seconds before he turned back to Orin and bowed sincerely. "Thank you for taking the time to show me this, Orin. I deeply appreciate it. Though I will check and see if any other packs suit me better than this one, I think I will return here." Sebastian flashed a disarming smile at the pink-haired lady, clearly very grateful.


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