That momentarily catches Cú off-guard, as if a heart skipped a beat. It takes a second or three to have it sink who exactly Soren has in mind. A different kind of surprise painted on his face, the speechless one before it transforms into a... short, radiant laugh.
"Smooth Soren, that was so smooth." It was a flawless execution, he's only giving credit where it's due. But it also proves to be a hard bargain. Once again he mentally recounts what Soren seeks in Bondmate, but ends abandoning it. There is no way he can talk about himself in lenses of them, it reeks of arrogance to him. There is a difference in pride and confidence and well, that. So instead, he chooses to just tell it as it is. What he can be confident in, is who he is. Another sip of the ale to clear his throat before he starts.
"About this man, I can tell you that he lived and died, holding close to his heart values similar to those you hold dear. Given word? Sacred. Ultimately, his kin and king, their well-being and wishes always come first. As he never shied away from a battle and was set to live his life in a way that would let him die without regrets" Like a candle burning from both ends. Did it succeed? Almost entirely. Not regrets left but... remorse for some of the things that happened. A resigned one, and this brief silence is telling. Now though, time for some brutal honesty. "That man would not tell a lie, but as you've noticed he is not above omitting things. What he would call bold, others often called reckless. Here, his Bonded are the first true allegiance he has, but Mirrorbounds as a whole come right next— what is there to be made from this 'new life' remains to be seen."
Is there a purpose to be found. It's close to admitting vulnerability and doubts to someone he barely knows. But honesty is a requirement in the subject they are speaking about. Cú sighs, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. Fingers tapping his own cheek, once, twice. It's kind of uncomfortable to present himself this way. Long gone are his teen years where he would challenge world-weary men with a loud yell 'I am Cú Chulainn' to prove himself in rage— in few years from that, he learned what's behind that weariness as well. It's loss.
"Now, does it sounds like a recommendation to you?" A smile returns on his lips, curious one, but also just a tiny bit sheepish.
no subject
"Smooth Soren, that was so smooth." It was a flawless execution, he's only giving credit where it's due. But it also proves to be a hard bargain. Once again he mentally recounts what Soren seeks in Bondmate, but ends abandoning it. There is no way he can talk about himself in lenses of them, it reeks of arrogance to him. There is a difference in pride and confidence and well, that. So instead, he chooses to just tell it as it is. What he can be confident in, is who he is. Another sip of the ale to clear his throat before he starts.
"About this man, I can tell you that he lived and died, holding close to his heart values similar to those you hold dear. Given word? Sacred. Ultimately, his kin and king, their well-being and wishes always come first. As he never shied away from a battle and was set to live his life in a way that would let him die without regrets" Like a candle burning from both ends. Did it succeed? Almost entirely. Not regrets left but... remorse for some of the things that happened. A resigned one, and this brief silence is telling. Now though, time for some brutal honesty. "That man would not tell a lie, but as you've noticed he is not above omitting things. What he would call bold, others often called reckless. Here, his Bonded are the first true allegiance he has, but Mirrorbounds as a whole come right next— what is there to be made from this 'new life' remains to be seen."
Is there a purpose to be found. It's close to admitting vulnerability and doubts to someone he barely knows. But honesty is a requirement in the subject they are speaking about. Cú sighs, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. Fingers tapping his own cheek, once, twice. It's kind of uncomfortable to present himself this way. Long gone are his teen years where he would challenge world-weary men with a loud yell 'I am Cú Chulainn' to prove himself in rage— in few years from that, he learned what's behind that weariness as well. It's loss.
"Now, does it sounds like a recommendation to you?" A smile returns on his lips, curious one, but also just a tiny bit sheepish.