centuries

“I was just confirming,” Sumayl responded to her impish grin, her tone taking on a coquettish edge, unable to help himself in the presence of a female who was not only pretty (even covered in mud such as Vienna was) but who was also willing to brush off his arrogant humor. “In case it was ever questioned.” Sumayl shot Vienna a wicked little, toothy grin that might have given the devil a run for his money. To the Ostrega, it seemed that girls either delighted in his personality or they hated it, there was truly no concrete middle ground — and if there was the shades of grey were so close together that he couldn't tell much of a different between black or white anyway. A soft snort of laughter left the Ostrega when she spoke that beauty were in the flaws. “For everyone else, maybe,” Sumayl teased her. “When you got it, you got it, you know?” He paused and drew in a soft breath. “Flaws are cute, though. They just don't look good on me at all.” Never mind that he was exposing what was likely one of his biggest flaws to her right at that current moment. Sumayl tried to play it off as joking and in a sense he was but he wasn't entirely jesting either.

Vienna reminded him that he hadn't, actually, gotten around to answering her proposal and for a second the Ostrega let the silence settle between them as he deliberated his options. It was true, he knew next to nothing about her pack but then again he wasn't exactly in any sort of position to be picky. Beggars couldn't be choosers, after all. “If you really think the leaders will accept me then sure, I'll give it a try.” A small part of Sumayl thought that it might be a tall order, accepting him, narcissism and sass included but he wouldn't deny that he would make a good addition to their Spire, if they'd have him.