King Elk Forest sweet adeline

unlike the elder or even morwinyon, malice's story is woven with complexity - offering a more tantilizing sort of detail. his eyes never leave her face, fascinated by the expressiveness of her features, the way each new bit of information transforms, heightening the drama. 

it's akin to the sort of storyteller he wants to be - not merely capturing the minutae of their existence, but weaving the words to bring them life a second time, and beyond. in the woman's mouth arthendal was not merely a location on a map, but a home, even if the children mentioned were of little consequence to delight beyond their tenuous relationship to the silvery prince. 

he knows already the story of the caldera from burke - malice echoes burke's side, and he makes another irritated hum, still pressed by the redhawk's refusal to care for the elder. for a moment he allows the silence to settle - a beat - and then nods, expression warm. "thank you," he says. "that is helpful - i like your flourishes," the androgyne adds, though whether or not that will make sense to anyone but him remains to be seen. "burke mentioned arthendal is - was - not too far from here... where about was it located?" tindömé's numbers are too thinned for a scouting trip, delight feels - but he still wants an image, and once their base is flourishing he does intend to take the older man and go on a historical sight-seeing trip.