[ the winds that accompany him constantly, even the barest flicker that might ruffle his cloak even in the still air of a room indoors--he was once wind incarnate. his origin is wind, gathered energy enough to be individual. so always around him there is the lightest breeze, not even the sea wind, that carries with him the barest hint of spring and the cecilia flower of his homeland; which he would normally wear in his hair but is now absent, yet the scent barely remains.

his look at her is again with a mild smile that doesn't quite reveal anything. ] Miss Clarke, you struck him with that utensil so viciously, didn't you fear retaliation too? Or even if you did, you knew you had to at least try to beat him. [ despite the risk, despite the unknowns, despite everything. it was the same feeling he had while staring at the captain from across the room, idly fantasizing about summoning his bow and firing off his grand ode right at the man's face--

he didn't but it might be a matter of time. ]

If you were in my position, if you had the power I do, would you hesitate?