[ Without his armored form, his default appearance now is that of a specter. Once she holds out the tin and offers it to him, he steps forward, solidifying his hand to take the gift from him. With his other, he lifts the lid off, dismissing it into his armor to reveal the contents inside.
The truffles are artisan, detailed and elegant, which would be an impressive gift on their own. But it is the motifs that cause his attention to linger upon them. The swords, the shields... the solitary wings. All of these she would have seen upon the weapons the phantoms of his family had carried.
Somnus mumbles something nearly inaudible, a single word in an ancient tongue, his expression distant, briefly pained, and then-- soft, settled. It seems he's been both moved by this gesture and the thought she put into it. ]
no subject
The truffles are artisan, detailed and elegant, which would be an impressive gift on their own. But it is the motifs that cause his attention to linger upon them. The swords, the shields... the solitary wings. All of these she would have seen upon the weapons the phantoms of his family had carried.
Somnus mumbles something nearly inaudible, a single word in an ancient tongue, his expression distant, briefly pained, and then-- soft, settled. It seems he's been both moved by this gesture and the thought she put into it. ]
...You have my gratitude.