[ He's getting a little more used to the sharp smile, though he feels Wrathion seems... at the very least, in a pleasant mood.
Lasulahn supposes that if his night had begun with being under the thrall of Red Lyrium, and the next morning began with new allies, he would be in a good mood, too. The Inquisitor though, is far more tense than anything, brow furrowed as they begin their trek towards Suledin Keep. He responds to anything directly addressed towards him, but otherwise remains quiet. The companions talk amongst themselves, and some inquire after Wrathion or include him occasionally in their banter. One good thing about having such a diverse team, perhaps, is that new members join with relative ease. They have a common goal. There are disagreements often enough, some more vehement than others, but this morning is thankfully free of bickering.
In the last leg of their short journey, when they've paused at a landmark where an Inquisition agent is to meet them with any updates, Lasulahn perches on a rock. He crosses an ankle over his knee and brushes snow from his feet. Aside from a knit wrap that secures beneath the arch, his feet are otherwise bare.
Deciding that idle curiosity is alright while they've nothing to do but wait, the elf looks to Wrathion. ]
Are there places like this in your world? Azeroth? [ He gestures to the snow and ice around him. ]
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Lasulahn supposes that if his night had begun with being under the thrall of Red Lyrium, and the next morning began with new allies, he would be in a good mood, too. The Inquisitor though, is far more tense than anything, brow furrowed as they begin their trek towards Suledin Keep. He responds to anything directly addressed towards him, but otherwise remains quiet. The companions talk amongst themselves, and some inquire after Wrathion or include him occasionally in their banter. One good thing about having such a diverse team, perhaps, is that new members join with relative ease. They have a common goal. There are disagreements often enough, some more vehement than others, but this morning is thankfully free of bickering.
In the last leg of their short journey, when they've paused at a landmark where an Inquisition agent is to meet them with any updates, Lasulahn perches on a rock. He crosses an ankle over his knee and brushes snow from his feet. Aside from a knit wrap that secures beneath the arch, his feet are otherwise bare.
Deciding that idle curiosity is alright while they've nothing to do but wait, the elf looks to Wrathion. ]
Are there places like this in your world? Azeroth? [ He gestures to the snow and ice around him. ]