[And there, right above his head—all this time, in fact—hangs a single sprig of mistletoe. For a man on avoiding it, it only could've been missed for one feasible reason: his guard was let down sufficiently that it may as well have been invisible to his senses. Awkward, out of place, and even a bit unhappy, the defenses of the indomitable Archer nonetheless eased in the presence of this man he declared no longer an enemy. The appropriate word here may be comfortable, even with all those spines.
Really, Gilgamesh could consider it a victory for himself, too, but he'll let Archer have the credit this time.]
Am I still dreaming? Or perhaps, are you...?
[There is no coercion laced into this sprig... but tradition is tradition, and Gilgamesh looks expectant.]
no subject
[Gilgamesh points directly up.]
Look.
[And there, right above his head—all this time, in fact—hangs a single sprig of mistletoe. For a man on avoiding it, it only could've been missed for one feasible reason: his guard was let down sufficiently that it may as well have been invisible to his senses. Awkward, out of place, and even a bit unhappy, the defenses of the indomitable Archer nonetheless eased in the presence of this man he declared no longer an enemy. The appropriate word here may be comfortable, even with all those spines.
Really, Gilgamesh could consider it a victory for himself, too, but he'll let Archer have the credit this time.]
Am I still dreaming? Or perhaps, are you...?
[There is no coercion laced into this sprig... but tradition is tradition, and Gilgamesh looks expectant.]