Solomon Djaevelen is the Walord Prince of Dhemlan (blackjeweled) wrote in musings,
The knock on the door drew Sol's attention as well, and he peered out of the kitchen to look toward Cora and the door. He had a frying pan in one hand, and a bowl of marinade in one psychic hand. Since she had walked in on him, he'd become much less concerned with using his power. "Cora?" he inquired, slipping the pan into a phantom hand and setting it down on the nearby stove. He could only barely see the door, and that annoyed him. A lot. But he couldn't yell at her for opening a door. She wouldn't understand his issue; he'd have to explain and he didn't want to do that.
So he frowned and edged further toward the doorway. A twinge of pain echoed through his mind, a reminder his hands did have a limit for how far they could stretch. With a sigh, he poured the marinade over the tuna, checked how brown the underside was, and flipped them. Then he stepped away from the stove to move toward the door. "Who's here?"