Tuktu Weir confessions of a sociopath

trajan does not seem to be taking him very seriously. not that delight thinks the soldier is completely looking down on him but he sees the flash of that smirk and it only deepen's the boy's own frown. still, he answers del's question easily enough - here, the forest. king elk, he calls it. "there an elk king there?" he asks, continuing the riff on the literalness of names, though maybe it falls a little bit flat accompanied by his sullen air.

he follows easily, of course, curious about his new home. the last remnant of his pout falls away when trajan finally apologises. really it's hard to pin down if the singing-sunlight is actually offended or not - more than anything the androgyne doesn't like the feeling of being looked down on - but he puffs up a little bit, ears perking.  "s'okay-" he starts to say, but then the roman goes and ruins it by calling delight cute, and what is he supposed to do with that? he flushes (as much as a creature with dark fur can, obscured as it is), embarrassed in an entirely different way than before. "jeez," the boy grumbles. why'd he think trajan was noble-looking before? definitely  not. huff. "so, um, how long have you been with tindómë?" he asks, pointedly changing the topic.