[The wizard arrives later than Dante, sweeping his gaze back and forth. When his yellow eyes land on Dante he stops and tilts his head, not quite what he's looking at. He's used to all manner of nonhuman people -- elves, orcs, even tabaxi -- but he's never met anyone who looked like Dante. Still] Hello! I'm Gale of Waterdeep. I suppose you must be Dante?
I've never seen a prosthesis quite like that before. It's quite fascinating! The ticking was the most surprising part, some sort of telepathic translation, maybe? Ah, but you didn't come here to talk about that, pardon my distraction.
[Ordinarily, he would have a lot more questions about Dante's prosthesis and the magic undoubtedly involved, but since his arrival in Karteria, the unexpected has become quite expected. Even the chronically curious grow weary of asking questions eventually.] Would you like to walk a little further into the woods to shift? Whatever you're more comfortable with, of course. I don't like mine to be seen.
< Oh, no, it's fine. I wouldn't be able to give you much of an answer anyway. I don't know too much about how it all works, much less how people here are suddenly able to understand me. >
[As for his question...]
< Please. >
[The answer comes before they can even form as a solid thought, and though it's not something that they necessarily disagree with (just as Gale said, there's something to be said for privacy), the fact that that answer may not have been entirely their own leaves them... uneasy, to say the least.]
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They stuff the syntrofos in their pocket and turn to face him, raising their hand in greeting.]
< That's me. >
[--is the sentiment that's translated across along with their three swift ticks of reply.
They're pretty sure they can guess what's on his mind the moment they catch the look on his face.]
< It's a prosthesis. I had it before I got here. >
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[Ordinarily, he would have a lot more questions about Dante's prosthesis and the magic undoubtedly involved, but since his arrival in Karteria, the unexpected has become quite expected. Even the chronically curious grow weary of asking questions eventually.] Would you like to walk a little further into the woods to shift? Whatever you're more comfortable with, of course. I don't like mine to be seen.
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[As for his question...]
< Please. >
[The answer comes before they can even form as a solid thought, and though it's not something that they necessarily disagree with (just as Gale said, there's something to be said for privacy), the fact that that answer may not have been entirely their own leaves them... uneasy, to say the least.]
< But seriously, thanks for this. >