09-27-2016, 09:04 PM
The fledgeling conversation is all but thrown off course with the addition of a third female. While the second was just a filly, he can’t help but feel a little bit proud of himself for attracting such a feminine crowd. This brightens his mood and brings a genuine smile to his face. That is until he sees the strange look in the newcomer’s eyes. It is not an unknown look, but it is mysterious nonetheless. He knows it is not really him she is looking at, but he can’t help but hope that he might alleviate some of the sadness from those metallic eyes. He smiles politely at her greeting and nods his head (ever the gentleman) towards the grey.
Before he can think of a proper response, however, his attention is brought back to the first who talks more of the weather and the changing of the seasons. This year had been rough meteorologically, and he hoped that he would be able to find some sort of stability before the next frost began. She continues - providing names and the name of their homeland (which sounds like it will be cold, honestly) and Moggett files them away so he can be sure to remember them later on. It would behoove him to remember a magician’s name after all - he did not want to be made into a toad by upsetting her (he was small enough as is).
“That sounds like quite the place…. a little more swanky than what I’m used to. Would a fellow like me fit in, you think?” He asks amicably, deciding that it would be best to be on the magician’s good side, especially when she is playing with fire. And then, finally, he turns back to the grey latecomer, smiling. “Hello. I’m Moggett, who are you?” She was so tall compared to him that he had to look up considerably to meet her gaze, but he would not let such things keep him from being polite.
Before he can think of a proper response, however, his attention is brought back to the first who talks more of the weather and the changing of the seasons. This year had been rough meteorologically, and he hoped that he would be able to find some sort of stability before the next frost began. She continues - providing names and the name of their homeland (which sounds like it will be cold, honestly) and Moggett files them away so he can be sure to remember them later on. It would behoove him to remember a magician’s name after all - he did not want to be made into a toad by upsetting her (he was small enough as is).
“That sounds like quite the place…. a little more swanky than what I’m used to. Would a fellow like me fit in, you think?” He asks amicably, deciding that it would be best to be on the magician’s good side, especially when she is playing with fire. And then, finally, he turns back to the grey latecomer, smiling. “Hello. I’m Moggett, who are you?” She was so tall compared to him that he had to look up considerably to meet her gaze, but he would not let such things keep him from being polite.
Moggett
