[ Because Ned is Ned, half his feelings may be found in his little motions: the almost urgent way his hands keep reinstating themselves in his pockets, the draw of his brows in small twitches of reaction, and of course the quirk of his mouth often halfway both directions to a smile and a question mark. ]
Well that's...that's really kind of you. [ He means it, ducks his head for a second just wondering to himself how many are here of their own accord and what it means for anyone who isn't. Ned doesn't like overly much interaction, much less confrontation, much much less fights. War -- just the word -- makes him dizzy. Wake up, is a phrase he keeps telling himself between breaths but it's not working. When he glances at him again, it's thoughtful, the trace anxiety from before just a ripple across his surface, if still inevitably there. ] Not necessary, but kind.
[ And Ned has always appreciated kindness even if he did not always recognize it right away. Absently, his hands escape his pockets and he folds his arms across his chest instead, palms under his elbows.
Closer to a smile now, he doesn't think anything of it that he has to look a bit down because his whole life beyond puberty has long since had him accustomed to this. It isn't even a passing consideration that the blond has a specific reason for speaking to him outside of a generous friendliness.
Well, it isn't until he says it is. Ned tips his head further to the side. ]
Huh? [ Articulate. He never claimed to be. Lucky for him. ] I mean, you don't...I'm just jumpy, [ his laugh confirms it, those bottled nerves near palpable in the up-down of his voice. ] So it's not your fault -- if anything it's mine, but...'familiar'?
How?
[ For all his height, the quizzical pinch of his brows has always lent Ned a strangely puppy-dog reminiscent look. Not that he knows, and not that he'd appreciate the comparison especially, but suffice to say his clueless stare does what most ignorance does: drags a few years off quite neatly. ]
mklsdklnefds SOB SORRY LEGOLAS 8< ned is such a spaz hahaldsd
Well that's...that's really kind of you. [ He means it, ducks his head for a second just wondering to himself how many are here of their own accord and what it means for anyone who isn't. Ned doesn't like overly much interaction, much less confrontation, much much less fights. War -- just the word -- makes him dizzy. Wake up, is a phrase he keeps telling himself between breaths but it's not working. When he glances at him again, it's thoughtful, the trace anxiety from before just a ripple across his surface, if still inevitably there. ] Not necessary, but kind.
[ And Ned has always appreciated kindness even if he did not always recognize it right away. Absently, his hands escape his pockets and he folds his arms across his chest instead, palms under his elbows.
Closer to a smile now, he doesn't think anything of it that he has to look a bit down because his whole life beyond puberty has long since had him accustomed to this. It isn't even a passing consideration that the blond has a specific reason for speaking to him outside of a generous friendliness.
Well, it isn't until he says it is. Ned tips his head further to the side. ]
Huh? [ Articulate. He never claimed to be. Lucky for him. ] I mean, you don't...I'm just jumpy, [ his laugh confirms it, those bottled nerves near palpable in the up-down of his voice. ] So it's not your fault -- if anything it's mine, but...'familiar'?
How?
[ For all his height, the quizzical pinch of his brows has always lent Ned a strangely puppy-dog reminiscent look. Not that he knows, and not that he'd appreciate the comparison especially, but suffice to say his clueless stare does what most ignorance does: drags a few years off quite neatly. ]