02-21-2016, 03:58 PM
Nick's eyes, when Ned meets them across the table, are even: there's a gentle sort of humor in them as he watches the apprentice, notes the meditative little sigh. There is this direct, simple answer from Ned, and Nick laughs; the sound is clear, sharp, like church bells at dawn, a far less calculated sound than the one he had made earlier. It's sudden and brief, and after the short silence that follows, he says, "We are very different and fractious and proud, but you can find people who don't buy into that, if you're patient."
His fingertips walk up the length of the stem of his wine glass, and he is looking at it now, his gaze somewhat absent. "Sometimes things happen that force people together, or force you to rely on others when you might not otherwise. I spoke with a lot of people and listened to what I wanted to listen to, and I eventually chose my Tradition because its purpose was compatible with mine. But there's also no shame in not choosing." He glances to Pen then, an invitation to add if she wishes.
A beat. "Has Andrés brought either of you to the chantry?" This, to both apprentices.
His fingertips walk up the length of the stem of his wine glass, and he is looking at it now, his gaze somewhat absent. "Sometimes things happen that force people together, or force you to rely on others when you might not otherwise. I spoke with a lot of people and listened to what I wanted to listen to, and I eventually chose my Tradition because its purpose was compatible with mine. But there's also no shame in not choosing." He glances to Pen then, an invitation to add if she wishes.
A beat. "Has Andrés brought either of you to the chantry?" This, to both apprentices.