[IC/OOC] Contact

[mactears]

sending crystal | letters and notes | in-person visits
To contact Loghain IC: Leave a response to this entry, specifying the means of contact (e.g., sending crystal, letters, in person visit). To contact me OOC: Discord: middlemarching#9936 Plurk: ragweed NB:  I work 9-5pm EST Mon-Fri, have additional volunteer obligations, and write fiction in my free time.

Comments

[mactears]

Loghain chuckles, then, looking from Boots to Teren. Yes, he has to agree privately, there is... something.

Hmm.

"You do appear to inspire both respect and fear, in our little number," he points out to her, then holds his gloved hand out for the druffalo to whuffle at it a moment; determining that it seems to have accepted him, he gives its broad head a gentle stroke. He's good with animals in a way he has, doubtless, never been with people. "Some would argue that's enough to qualify you for parenthood." His tone is irreverent enough to make it clear he isn't serious about that last part at least.

[doneisdone]

Though at first Teren doesn't seem bothered, the conversation leads to actual parenthood, and she gives a derisive snort. "Well, it takes a bit more than that," she mutters, and, excusing herself for a moment, she marches back into the shed to bring out a second bucket, this one of water.
"There are few people in the world less qualified," she continues once she's hefted it onto the ground, though her attitude softens slightly as she folds her arms, glancing briefly at Loghain before averting her gaze again.
"I suppose it isn't meaningless that you raised the Queen of Ferelden," Teren muses, almost grudgingly.

[mactears]

"I suppose it isn't meaningless that you raised the Queen of Ferelden."

Loghain scoffs, though not dismissively--at least, not of Teren, and certainly not of Anora. "The credit is hers," he replies without delay, "for succeeding in spite of me." He doesn't say the words, but it's evident in the subdued warmth in his eyes that yes, he's quite proud of his daughter.

The rain has yet to let up, and beside him, Sooty has begun to shift restlessly, her ears swept back in a gentle reprimand to her master's loitering. Loghain pats a gloved hand against her broad neck. "I should take my girl back to the stables," he says of the mare fondly.