Re: Mayflowers: Max and Solas
A smile spread across his face, and though it was wide it wasn't entirely kind. It wasn't precisely patronizing, but it was the sort of smile a teacher gave to a very young student when the student did something unexpectedly brilliant. She was clever, and he appreciated that cleverness.
"An astute question, and not one many would think to ask." It was as close to praise as anything from Solas, and spoken in a tone that conveyed respect.
Considering whether or not he should be truthful with her, he studied her. Felt the ebb and flow of magic around her. It stretched thin across her skin, like she was a weight against the fabric of the world. Like she did not quite belong. It was the same with him, and that realization made up his mind. Neither of them belonged to this world. They were not natives, and that made them alike. He suppressed a shudder.
"I come from another world entirely," he simply, as if this fact were not so strange as to be fiction, "as, I imagine, do you." He arched a brow, as if daring her to say it wasn't so and that he was wrong.
Outside, someone made a ruckus he could hardly stand - someone laying on their car horn, though he didn't know it - and his ears went flat against his head. "Fenedhis," he muttered, scowling at the windows, and his tone left no doubt that the word was a curse.