[ Among the trees, in woods no matter the place, to lose a woodelf pursuer is near impossible, even if the prey has one too many advantages on its side. Legolas follows, keen eye on a form familiar, yet in a chase that is not at all. He stops when Celegorm does, blinking in further confusion that lasts all of a split second, all of a blink of an eye, before a frown settles on his features. Dark eyebrows drawing together.
His lips part, tremble and still is he too startled to truly think things through. Why is he out here, chasing the one who unmade him so? Tested, tempered, gave him strength. ]
You desire affection, yet you ask me to shear off your hair. You ask a cruelty of me that I am not capable of.
[ Not now, not in a thousand years, but he does not repeat that. ]
no subject
His lips part, tremble and still is he too startled to truly think things through. Why is he out here, chasing the one who unmade him so? Tested, tempered, gave him strength. ]
You desire affection, yet you ask me to shear off your hair. You ask a cruelty of me that I am not capable of.
[ Not now, not in a thousand years, but he does not repeat that. ]