[Dylas feels like he should have expected that. He's not phased by it or grossed out, really, it's no less gross than having someone fling a dead fish at your feet. At least its death is being honored by being a meal. That earns Sidon a respect point or two, but Dylas is still trying to figure this out.]
I don't need help. I'm fishing. Or at least I was.
[He reels in his line, finally, since it had gotten tangled. His rod is brand new—a recent splurge. Its technology is beyond anything he'd seen in his own world. It's his prized possession.]
What did you mean when you asked me to ride you? That's weird.
I love him, does that count for anything?
I don't need help. I'm fishing. Or at least I was.
[He reels in his line, finally, since it had gotten tangled. His rod is brand new—a recent splurge. Its technology is beyond anything he'd seen in his own world. It's his prized possession.]
What did you mean when you asked me to ride you? That's weird.