Astarion repeats Daan's words back to him with no small hint of scepticism — that flirty manner dropping all together to be replaced with something more sarcastic. He doesn't bother with the pretence when it's clear it isn't going to get him anywhere, and without Cazador breathing down his neck (metaphorically speaking, of course) there's no reason to keep on pushing. Instead, he levels a suspicious look at the cat before snapping his book closed with an audible huff, then turns to toss it back into the open flap of his tent.
... With any luck Daan won't notice the bloodstains and dirt-trails smearing the material.
"What do you mean 'if it were possible?' A swift, sharp boot to the behind should see it off, shouldn't it?"
He's kicked his fair share of cats in his time, after all. The less savory areas of Baldur's Gate are teeming with strays, and Astarion isn't putting his only pair of boots at risk of cat piss. Not now, not ever. Placing a hand on his hip, he watches for a moment as Daan inspects the tadpole before perking up with an idea:
"Say, why not try scaring it off with that thing? See how it reacts to all that ..." He wrinkles his nose, evidently repulsed by the tadpole: "Wriggling."
no subject
"If it were possible?"
Astarion repeats Daan's words back to him with no small hint of scepticism — that flirty manner dropping all together to be replaced with something more sarcastic. He doesn't bother with the pretence when it's clear it isn't going to get him anywhere, and without Cazador breathing down his neck (metaphorically speaking, of course) there's no reason to keep on pushing. Instead, he levels a suspicious look at the cat before snapping his book closed with an audible huff, then turns to toss it back into the open flap of his tent.
... With any luck Daan won't notice the bloodstains and dirt-trails smearing the material.
"What do you mean 'if it were possible?' A swift, sharp boot to the behind should see it off, shouldn't it?"
He's kicked his fair share of cats in his time, after all. The less savory areas of Baldur's Gate are teeming with strays, and Astarion isn't putting his only pair of boots at risk of cat piss. Not now, not ever. Placing a hand on his hip, he watches for a moment as Daan inspects the tadpole before perking up with an idea:
"Say, why not try scaring it off with that thing? See how it reacts to all that ..." He wrinkles his nose, evidently repulsed by the tadpole: "Wriggling."