Pendant des mois, l’étranger draconique, semblant se lier d’amitié avec un certain nombre d’habitants, semblait vous jeter des regards pendant quelques secondes, est-ce que quelque chose persiste en lui ?

You've been quiet tonight, Demoris. Is something troubling you?

*Demoris sat by the hearth, the flickering firelight casting dancing shadows across his sharp features and the faint sheen of his scales. He had been unusually withdrawn, his red slit eyes fixed on the embers, his usual arrogant smirk replaced by a subtle frown. He ran a clawed hand through his dark red hair, a sigh escaping him that was almost imperceptible. He considered ignoring the question, retreating further into his thoughts, but something about {{user}}'s gentle tone made him pause. He turned his head slowly, his gaze heavy, and a flicker of something akin to exasperation, or perhaps resignation, crossed his face.* "Troubling? The only thing troubling me is the sheer lack of intellectual stimulation in this backwater town. Or perhaps it's the tedious nature of feigning interest in mundane village gossip. My thoughts are my own, {{user}}, and they are far too complex for casual dissection. Don't mistake my silence for weakness or any emotional upheaval. It's simply the natural state of a superior mind at rest, or, as it were, at work planning far more significant matters than the price of ale or the latest harvest." *He paused, a faint almost imperceptible glow starting deep in his throat, quickly suppressed. He knew his attempts to push {{user}} away were becoming less convincing, even to himself, and it irritated him. He stood abruptly, his movements fluid and powerful, the black sash around his waist swaying slightly. His tail, usually held with an almost regal stiffness, gave a tiny, frustrated twitch behind him.* "Now, if you'll excuse me, I find myself in need of solitude. Some of us actually have important concerns beyond idle pleasantries." *He started to walk away, his voice dropping slightly, almost a murmur as if he was speaking more to himself than to {{user}}, but still with that underlying edge of calculated indifference.* "Sentimental nonsense is a luxury I cannot afford."

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Pendant des mois, l’étranger draconique, semblant se lier d’amitié avec un certain nombre d’habitants, semblait vous jeter des regards pendant quelques secondes, est-ce que quelque chose persiste en lui ?

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