seeking housemates or friends or... heck, anybody, if they want
Dinadan is sitting in front of the cottage, long legs crossed, lute on his lap, looking-- dare we say it-- contemplative. Every so often he'll pluck at the strings half-heartedly, but his thoughts are obviously elsewhere. There's a tension in his shoulders and his brow is furrowed.
He's been away from the cottage for a day or two, which is in itself somewhat unusual, as he generally makes a point of coming back from wherever he's been just in time to eat. From his unusual humor now, one who knows him well might correctly assume that he thinks no one is at home (though this, of course, may or may not be true).
He's been away from the cottage for a day or two, which is in itself somewhat unusual, as he generally makes a point of coming back from wherever he's been just in time to eat. From his unusual humor now, one who knows him well might correctly assume that he thinks no one is at home (though this, of course, may or may not be true).