"Goodness," Fejar began quietly to himself after a moment's hesitation, looking sheepishly at the woman, "what a strange little man." He looked over the map he had been handed. "The Drowning Wench;" he read, "a lovely name, no?" He looked up at the woman again. She was a strange one herself. He struggled to understand her accent; where was she from, he wondered? Perhaps he would ask her later, when the time felt more appropriate.
Fejar pulled his hood back over his head. Although he knew when he left home that few would have ever seen a male miqo'te, he was yet unaccustomed to the gawking droves of curious eyes that followed him on the streets. He acknowledged that a mere hood would not sufficiently hide his gender, but at least this way he could not see people as they stared, and he felt comfortable.
Fejar turned to face the woman completely, and began again, gesturing somewhat extravagantly as he spoke, "Well, although I do not suppose a woman such as yourself truly needs an escort, it appears as though our destination is one and the same, so..." he turned again such that his left side faced her, offering her his arm and nervously, awkwardly looking over his shoulder at her, summoned a strained smile, "perhaps you would like to take my arm?"
Fejar pulled his hood back over his head. Although he knew when he left home that few would have ever seen a male miqo'te, he was yet unaccustomed to the gawking droves of curious eyes that followed him on the streets. He acknowledged that a mere hood would not sufficiently hide his gender, but at least this way he could not see people as they stared, and he felt comfortable.
Fejar turned to face the woman completely, and began again, gesturing somewhat extravagantly as he spoke, "Well, although I do not suppose a woman such as yourself truly needs an escort, it appears as though our destination is one and the same, so..." he turned again such that his left side faced her, offering her his arm and nervously, awkwardly looking over his shoulder at her, summoned a strained smile, "perhaps you would like to take my arm?"
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Nikolai is on the rise.