Herbalists' Cache i who have always been unbecoming am becoming un

he's startled by the quiet comment, freezing until the stranger is in his line of sight. his hackles lift as he registers the smirk. "prying, are we," the words slip from him without thought, full of lazy disdain. the tension fades slightly from his posture, but he studies the stranger critically, sharp words writhing impatiently on the tip of his tongue as he waits for his next move.