[ Seldom one to turn down a drink—and with little to do while he's between contracts—he accepts. He follows her directions to her Horizon. She may hear the familiar clip of horse hooves arriving, though he leaves Roach just at the edge of Rowena's territory.
His eyebrow lifts at the throne occupying the center of the room. Mm. Subtle. (Now who might this remind him of?)
He is accustomed to mages and their extravagant tastes.
He's dressed almost no different than he is when she met him in Nocwich: leather, black linen, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow. He's brought nothing else with him and the same wolf-head medallion rests against his chest. He peers at the door that awaits. Since she's invited him, he doesn't bother knocking—just turns the knob, assuming that if he's welcome, it will open without issue. ]
no subject
His eyebrow lifts at the throne occupying the center of the room. Mm. Subtle. (Now who might this remind him of?)
He is accustomed to mages and their extravagant tastes.
He's dressed almost no different than he is when she met him in Nocwich: leather, black linen, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow. He's brought nothing else with him and the same wolf-head medallion rests against his chest. He peers at the door that awaits. Since she's invited him, he doesn't bother knocking—just turns the knob, assuming that if he's welcome, it will open without issue. ]