Greg Goyle (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} goyle_g) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} finnigans_rpg, |
"Good." Greg would probably keep sending Von over with food for a while, it was relatively little trouble for him since all he had to do was ask Von to make more and deliver it to whereever Marcus happened to be at the time. Of course, it probably wasn't needed - the Manor's elves would hardly let Marcus starve, especially now that he was their only family member left to worry about.
Greg turned at the sound of the voice, greeting the man in the painting with a nod. "Afternoon, grandfather," he said, then hesitated. Did you tell a painting you were sorry for the loss of its daughter-in-law? The uncertainty was writ plainly on Greg's face, his mother had never taught him any particular manners when it came to portraits, though perhaps she should have done.
"Still look alike, I see," Alphonse continued, allowing Greg to stop unknotting that particular problem. "I'm glad to see the Flint genes still going strong. I want to see those brows and that nose on my great grandson one day!"