[ She's chewing on his sleeves. The Outsider stares for a moment, almost entirely missing Thranduil's question. So simple an action, and yet it throws him off. The clothing has been his only 'possession' for four thousand years, and it was not clothing he picked. It has seen as much as he has. It likely carries some of the same scent of Void and sea that he does, and-
And this nug is chewing on it, without a care in the world.
He strokes down her back with one long finger, head tilted to the side. For a long moment, he doesn't respond to Thranduil at all -- then, wordlessly, lifts his hand away (still careful to hold the nug with the other) and offers it to him. His eyes flick back up to Thranduil a second later. ]
no subject
And this nug is chewing on it, without a care in the world.
He strokes down her back with one long finger, head tilted to the side. For a long moment, he doesn't respond to Thranduil at all -- then, wordlessly, lifts his hand away (still careful to hold the nug with the other) and offers it to him. His eyes flick back up to Thranduil a second later. ]