Ass makes Alistair grin, proud of himself, but it doesn't last in the face of Zevran's grouchiness. Or his backwards slide into the shadows at Cassandra's call. Alistair holds still and silent, too, until she leaves, just to be careful.
Then—"that's a lot of people."
He decides, presumptuously, that everyone doesn't include him, and he hoists himself and his sweaty bulk back up out of the hay to look for a way up to where Zevran is. He doesn't genuinely expect to find one. Not one he can actually climb. But for the principle of it, to say I care about you enough to look like a clumsy idiot, he'll try.
"Have you tried throwing them out of your castle?" Just to be obnoxious. Meanwhile he's climbing precariously to balance on a stable door and grab for the beams overhead. "I bet you could."
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Then—"that's a lot of people."
He decides, presumptuously, that everyone doesn't include him, and he hoists himself and his sweaty bulk back up out of the hay to look for a way up to where Zevran is. He doesn't genuinely expect to find one. Not one he can actually climb. But for the principle of it, to say I care about you enough to look like a clumsy idiot, he'll try.
"Have you tried throwing them out of your castle?" Just to be obnoxious. Meanwhile he's climbing precariously to balance on a stable door and grab for the beams overhead. "I bet you could."