[If it weren't for the sheer chaos of the scene, a head of green hair would probably stand out among the mob. But even so, it wouldn't be entirely clear whether Kaphlar is part of it or trying to sneak away.
The truth is that he's trying to use whatever remains of his dignity and good sense to avoid being caught in a compromising position - a compromising position that, make no mistake, he feels increasingly compelled to jump into. There are no real ugly people in the mob. Sure, some may be dirtier than others - in the hygienic sense of the term - but women and men alike are making his heart race. Just like in that tent...
But the last of his strength is dedicated to shaking that thought away. When he hears Éowyn's voice, he doesn't care whether she's holding her own or doing something like what he's doing. He makes a beeline for her, panting and sweaty and with his robes starting to slip off of a shoulder.]
no subject
The truth is that he's trying to use whatever remains of his dignity and good sense to avoid being caught in a compromising position - a compromising position that, make no mistake, he feels increasingly compelled to jump into. There are no real ugly people in the mob. Sure, some may be dirtier than others - in the hygienic sense of the term - but women and men alike are making his heart race. Just like in that tent...
But the last of his strength is dedicated to shaking that thought away. When he hears Éowyn's voice, he doesn't care whether she's holding her own or doing something like what he's doing. He makes a beeline for her, panting and sweaty and with his robes starting to slip off of a shoulder.]
You called?