[One hand grasps a bundle of hair. Dripping water slips across his fingers, sliding between his knuckles. He pulls it aloft and tugs it across his shoulder - strands slipping down the front of his chest. Two seconds later and he is gently pulling clumps apart, separating them with gentle care.
The act is a soothing one as his mind turns and his thoughts brew in suspicion. He indulges in a silent moment before sitting a short distance away. His face rises to take in his old friend. Does it matter that the people have been friendly? Hardly!]
The people themselves are not those holding the reins of power, Hendrik.
no subject
The act is a soothing one as his mind turns and his thoughts brew in suspicion. He indulges in a silent moment before sitting a short distance away. His face rises to take in his old friend. Does it matter that the people have been friendly? Hardly!]
The people themselves are not those holding the reins of power, Hendrik.