You'll fit right in here. Harrowheart's lips purse and eyebrows lower in disappointment. He said he didn't want to sound like he belonged with the people at this party! The guy doesn't have to rub it in! There's a little delay before he half-heartedly laughs. Being undead doesn't make him learned or bright of suave, clearly. He's certainly no vampire.
"Napoleonic," he repeats in the lowest whisper. It's a new word he's just learned and he's trying to commit its (probably wrong) definition to memory.
"A wraith?" he asks, then huffs a more sincere laugh. "Everyone wants to call me a draugr. I'm a death knight, somethin' from another plane. But I'm curious about you." He squints like he's trying to hear an answer that hasn't come yet. "No one on your world acts like there's any undead who can think. So that makes you?..."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-08-12 10:05 pm (UTC)"Napoleonic," he repeats in the lowest whisper. It's a new word he's just learned and he's trying to commit its (probably wrong) definition to memory.
"A wraith?" he asks, then huffs a more sincere laugh. "Everyone wants to call me a draugr. I'm a death knight, somethin' from another plane. But I'm curious about you." He squints like he's trying to hear an answer that hasn't come yet. "No one on your world acts like there's any undead who can think. So that makes you?..."
He can't even begin to guess, honestly.