Tora, or “Bandi,” leafed through the folder of documents Dwag handed him, thinking. He had more work ahead of him than he liked. This was a lot of addresses and people to sift through. A few ideas floated in his head on how to narrow that number of folks down, but he’d think it through later. Now he had to move out and meet up with his strange new ally.
Dwag shuffled over to the door and pressed a button to swing it open. Ol’ Hall was on the other side, as anxious as they left him.
“Take our guest to the door, Halladr. Then it’s back to work.” Dwag commanded.
The young norn dutifully took him down the hall, careful not to touch him, but not as careful about where his eyes lingered. Tora raised an eyebrow at him, mulling over whether he had the energy to tease the poor bloke. The norn froze the moment their eyes met, his face transforming into a panicked tomato. The sight made Tora chuckle.
He couldn’t believe this guy was fussing over what business was between Tora’s legs. Non-sylvari folk worry about the weirdest shit, he thought.
They reached the door then, dutiful jumpy Hall opening it for Tora like a scared human nobleman. He looked ridiculous. Tora faced the open doorway, the night air brushing the leaves of his wig against his cheek. He moved to exit, but stopped.
An idea curled the edges of his lips into a mischievous grin.
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