[ Astarion turns at the sound of someone asking if he's alright, already positioning his body to hide the cut on his forearm—though he pauses, head tilted just slightly, as he processes the full question. ]
I'm fine, [ he says, eyes casting about for anyone else the stranger could be addressing. It's only when Astarion confirms that there's no one else around that he considers another possibility: ] You aren't talking to the plant, are you?
[ Gods, has he just run into a druid? That's the last thing he needs in a conflict with a plant: someone very well liable to take the blasted thing's side. ]
no subject
I'm fine, [ he says, eyes casting about for anyone else the stranger could be addressing. It's only when Astarion confirms that there's no one else around that he considers another possibility: ] You aren't talking to the plant, are you?
[ Gods, has he just run into a druid? That's the last thing he needs in a conflict with a plant: someone very well liable to take the blasted thing's side. ]