Re: The Cat: Rae and Kratos
The big man nodded slowly, repeating, "Naturally. He was born with such, very similar. Not so smooth a line. Here." He brought two fingers up, knuckles out, and tapped his red-stained brow. A birthmark, undoubtedly, which explained the coloring. "A Thracian assisted me. He had many such marks, in a different color. An honor among his people, though not among mine." Kratos rocked back and forth on his heels and hips, elbows still forward. This was a lot of talking. He could go for days without doing much but a word here or there. The people around him were more fond of their own voices than he, usually.
Kratos did not smile much, but the direction of his gaze seemed to lose its edge in response to her harmless gibe. He was both old and large, it was true. He wondered what would be young tastes, but he did not wonder hard enough to translate and then speak it. He had wondered too about her relationship to Nel; he knew her from her response it was not mother. Drinking again, he decided that he again did not want to know badly enough to ask. He shrugged a big shoulder. "Rhm."