[ His voice is a low breeze, almost like a hum, before he relents to the proffered truce. He has a feeling that "no" isn't an answer, no matter how much he'd like to see how good Diarmuid is with his lances.
The circumstances seem different, anyway; there aren't supposed to be two of a Class, no matter how someone tries to play with the rules of this game. Until they figure out what's going on, he's fine with a little fooling around.
So, amiably— he lets Gae Bolg fade, puts his hands on his hips, and waits. ]
no subject
[ His voice is a low breeze, almost like a hum, before he relents to the proffered truce. He has a feeling that "no" isn't an answer, no matter how much he'd like to see how good Diarmuid is with his lances.
The circumstances seem different, anyway; there aren't supposed to be two of a Class, no matter how someone tries to play with the rules of this game. Until they figure out what's going on, he's fine with a little fooling around.
So, amiably— he lets Gae Bolg fade, puts his hands on his hips, and waits. ]