Detlef...that was his name, yes? Normally easy enough to avoid in a hold as big as this one, and yet one could not confine the whole of the world within these walls so no matter how wide the berth he would occasionally find himself in the mans presence. It did not mean they had to speak to one another, but Michel could almost swear to it that the man glared at him with the burning rage of a thousand suns. Typically while training in the courtyard, it must have something to do with the Templar techniques that he uses as Michel was well aware of his distaste for them...there was no subtlety in that.
Easy to avoid him, however, though not altogether easy to ignore him when he's talking to a...tree? That, at least, deserved a double-take. It would be fine enough to simply dismiss the man as mad, in fact it would make a great deal of sense, but even Michel had to concede that he appeared rather sane. That alone was enough to give him pause and, for a moment, the Chevalier took a break from his training and simply watched...a few moments of observation even at a distance told him everything he needed to know. He'd found himself a mouser.
One that refused to remove itself from the tree it had conveniently gotten itself stuck in, it wanted to come down, seemed to be in a state about it, and yet it did not have the courage...or perhaps the trust in the mage to take such a leap of faith. It was sad and adorable in its own way, despite Michel being more for horses than cats, especially when the little monsters found their way into his tent and ensconced themselves within his bedroll. Still standing here and simply watching the struggle held no honor...and it wasn't as though they had to communicate in order to get the cat out of the tree.
Without further ado Michel approached the...situation...careful that he made his presence known rather than simply startling Detlef. No need for talk, he simply made a grab for the lowest hanging branch and pulled himself up effortlessly, with the grace of a man who has done this task a thousand times...which wasn't too far off. Usually more armor was involved, but this was significantly easier.
Garden
Easy to avoid him, however, though not altogether easy to ignore him when he's talking to a...tree? That, at least, deserved a double-take. It would be fine enough to simply dismiss the man as mad, in fact it would make a great deal of sense, but even Michel had to concede that he appeared rather sane. That alone was enough to give him pause and, for a moment, the Chevalier took a break from his training and simply watched...a few moments of observation even at a distance told him everything he needed to know. He'd found himself a mouser.
One that refused to remove itself from the tree it had conveniently gotten itself stuck in, it wanted to come down, seemed to be in a state about it, and yet it did not have the courage...or perhaps the trust in the mage to take such a leap of faith. It was sad and adorable in its own way, despite Michel being more for horses than cats, especially when the little monsters found their way into his tent and ensconced themselves within his bedroll. Still standing here and simply watching the struggle held no honor...and it wasn't as though they had to communicate in order to get the cat out of the tree.
Without further ado Michel approached the...situation...careful that he made his presence known rather than simply startling Detlef. No need for talk, he simply made a grab for the lowest hanging branch and pulled himself up effortlessly, with the grace of a man who has done this task a thousand times...which wasn't too far off. Usually more armor was involved, but this was significantly easier.