It is one of those situations in which Kriv's intense focus works to someone else's advantage, though of course he would never himself admit such a thing to be possible. But it certainly is: so caught up is he in burning metaphorical holes through the pages of his current historical text with the force of his gaze alone that the spying human goes unnoticed for a time.
The book is as frustrating as all the rest. Like the pamphlet left to new arrivals, far too much of everything positively reeks of forced smiles and someone else's agenda. In better circumstances the scent of hidden knowledge would draw him like a true dragon scenting gold - what warlock could ever resist some great secret he's forbidden to have? But here, now, after the indignity of being spirited away so easily, filled with the seething resentment of one who half views his companions as possessions that someone has dared to take from him...for now at least, the obfuscation only angers him.
It isn't really a surprise. After all, he'd expected from the start that any book shelved in the house of new arrivals would never be allowed to contain anything too useful. But his temper has little to do with sense.
"PURE DRIVEL!" Kriv snarls, quite suddenly, not caring who hears, and slams the book down on the table with just short of enough force to damage something. He's cranky, not stupid.
no subject
The book is as frustrating as all the rest. Like the pamphlet left to new arrivals, far too much of everything positively reeks of forced smiles and someone else's agenda. In better circumstances the scent of hidden knowledge would draw him like a true dragon scenting gold - what warlock could ever resist some great secret he's forbidden to have? But here, now, after the indignity of being spirited away so easily, filled with the seething resentment of one who half views his companions as possessions that someone has dared to take from him...for now at least, the obfuscation only angers him.
It isn't really a surprise. After all, he'd expected from the start that any book shelved in the house of new arrivals would never be allowed to contain anything too useful. But his temper has little to do with sense.
"PURE DRIVEL!" Kriv snarls, quite suddenly, not caring who hears, and slams the book down on the table with just short of enough force to damage something. He's cranky, not stupid.