Snippet #906395

Asterion had heard tell of the Lady before, she seemed an interesting figure. Far more so than the preening court nobles or plodding servants he found as his only company in Kethadrian society at least. So when he spied the semi-legendary figure moving through the marketplace he took notice, a small, but rare, grin briefly cracking his hardened features as he took in the site of the wizened crone in flamboyant robes. Without thinking he grabbed a jug of wine from a merchant's table, and sauntered off, taking a long draught from its clay depths, and not caring as some spilled over his chest. The merchant made a noise of indignation, but Asterion took no notice, an the merchant was to fearful of the wild youth to do more than complain.

A few strides, and a small bound took Asterion sailing up to catch the lip of the building ahead of him with one hand, the wine jug dangling from the other. Swinging the jug on top of the roof, he grasped for purchase against the stone wall with his bare feet, and scrabbled on top of it. From here he could follow the bobbing orb of brightly colored flames that was the Lady with ease, picking a figure such as her out of the crowd was no hard task. He strolled lazily along the rooftops, drinking from his jug of wine, as he followed her, watching, and more amused than he had found himself in many a moon. Something about this old lady was far more wild and true than any other person he had found in Kethadria.

As she danced away from a stall with a cat in hand, Asterion dropped lightly off the roof behind her, calling out after her.

"So you're the infamous Lady aye?" He spoke with a note of merriment not commonly found in his cold, brief, and abrupt manner of speaking. He hadn't learned to speak until he had been brought into society at the age of twelve. Before then he had communicated far more simply, with actions, and with occasional heartful bellows, expressing naught more than pure emotion. He still felt words were over valued, and used them sparingly and infrequently, remaining largely taciturn.

"Would you care for a drink?" He held the vase out to here, his words coming slowly, clear and precise, like the sparkling waters of a calm, deep, river. "Seems as if the two of us might have a bit in common, being oddities among the Kethadrian court."