i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high
The Fae stallion learns quickly, Reave would give him credit for that. Of course, Aela has always been free with her gifts - he would have had to be extremely foolish not to learn something from his experience with her. The bone-marked Guardian may not have the same level of ability with emotions as his dear, influential sister, but he certainly has enough. Enough that Obscene would have had to have been not just foolish, but lacking intelligence not to realize the pointlessness of attempting to hide them.
He is none of those, and as his counterpart drops the mask of indifference he had attempted to don, Reave smiles.
The Northerner would have never paused to add the last declaration if he had not seen it already of course. Reave has many friends (though perhaps friend is a strong word), but he never offers it unless he finds them intriguing enough to warrant his continued interest. He is a rather fickle creature in that regard, loyal instead to the reckless curiosity of his own heart rather than those who inspire it. A dubious honor, at best, but for now it would undoubtedly serve the purpose they both desire.
But Reave is not Nerine, and at the other stallion’s assertion, his grin widens into something far more savage. He’s quite certain Aela had not meant Nerine when she was suggesting allies. Even if the word had left her mouth, he’s quite certain it had not been the territory he guards that she had been imagining. Not with her hatred for the North still boiling in her veins. “Are you quite certain it was Nerine she was speaking of?” he asks, his words penetrating. He tilts his head, blue eyes bright behind the glow of his mask. Blue eyes eerily similar to the sister they now speak of. “I would be quite surprised to learn she thinks of Nerine and myself as one and the same.”
reave
@Obscene