"I don't recall you asking specifically after light reading."
Flint's nod indicates the mantle above the unlit fireplace as a working bookshelf where the volume might safely set aside. Two other books are in attendance there already, languishing in positions that suggest they were thoughtlessly assigned those posts. A faint layer of dust indicates he must have set them down weeks prior; evidently catching up on an invasion's worth of paperwork has prohibited his return to either what looks to be a somber Steel Age military treatise or the slim volume of Nevarran poetry. Also at home on the mantle: a medium sized and highly average painting of a dark ship lurking in the Kirkwall harbor which resembles the one Commander Flint had allegedly sailed in on and lingers still—neither fully in Riftwatch's possession and neither anything else; an uncorked bottle of the same liquor that must currently be populating the glass in Flint's reach; an array of candles; a heavy brass dog holding down a stack of correspondence.
The papers on Flint's knee are shuffled into some semblance of order but given the lingering shape of his attention on Holden, it isn't in some not-so-subtle attempt to chase his guest off and return to their review. On the contrary; if he could find reason to not acquaint himself with some of the more minute details of the past weeks, he might take it. But given that it's painfully necessary?
A reprieve is better than nothing.
"Though I am surprised that you've had the time to commit to any of it."
They've all been very busy in his and Yuselt's absence.
He nods in turn, something of an okay, fair enough, that doubles as agreement to set the book down on the mantle. He heads over and does so but lingers, intrigued equally by the painting, particularly, and the other titles.
"I've had reason to make time for it."
His fingers slide from the volume by Ventura to linger, briefly, on the spine of the poetry.
And then he turns back towards Flint, adding, "I don't know how much you know about it, but we've got a lot of refugees at our gates from Hasmal and Tantervale, plenty of them originally from Tevinter."
Or maybe Flint's seen, amidst his catching up, certain pamphlets floating around.
no subject
Flint's nod indicates the mantle above the unlit fireplace as a working bookshelf where the volume might safely set aside. Two other books are in attendance there already, languishing in positions that suggest they were thoughtlessly assigned those posts. A faint layer of dust indicates he must have set them down weeks prior; evidently catching up on an invasion's worth of paperwork has prohibited his return to either what looks to be a somber Steel Age military treatise or the slim volume of Nevarran poetry. Also at home on the mantle: a medium sized and highly average painting of a dark ship lurking in the Kirkwall harbor which resembles the one Commander Flint had allegedly sailed in on and lingers still—neither fully in Riftwatch's possession and neither anything else; an uncorked bottle of the same liquor that must currently be populating the glass in Flint's reach; an array of candles; a heavy brass dog holding down a stack of correspondence.
The papers on Flint's knee are shuffled into some semblance of order but given the lingering shape of his attention on Holden, it isn't in some not-so-subtle attempt to chase his guest off and return to their review. On the contrary; if he could find reason to not acquaint himself with some of the more minute details of the past weeks, he might take it. But given that it's painfully necessary?
A reprieve is better than nothing.
"Though I am surprised that you've had the time to commit to any of it."
They've all been very busy in his and Yuselt's absence.
covers up timestamps ashamedly
"I've had reason to make time for it."
His fingers slide from the volume by Ventura to linger, briefly, on the spine of the poetry.
And then he turns back towards Flint, adding, "I don't know how much you know about it, but we've got a lot of refugees at our gates from Hasmal and Tantervale, plenty of them originally from Tevinter."
Or maybe Flint's seen, amidst his catching up, certain pamphlets floating around.