[Sitting up on one of the trees is a young man. Or perhaps he's an old man. It's difficult to tell; his form ripples and shifts, like sunlight dancing off of a river.
He springs from his perch, landing lightly on nimble feet.]
A puck never hides, m'lord! He loiters with intent, true, not hiding? Why, if people simply looked closely, he'd be in plain sight!
[He folds himself into a bow.]
But if he were to hide from the awe-inspiring Goblin King, would you blame him?
no subject
[Sitting up on one of the trees is a young man. Or perhaps he's an old man. It's difficult to tell; his form ripples and shifts, like sunlight dancing off of a river.
He springs from his perch, landing lightly on nimble feet.]
A puck never hides, m'lord! He loiters with intent, true, not hiding? Why, if people simply looked closely, he'd be in plain sight!
[He folds himself into a bow.]
But if he were to hide from the awe-inspiring Goblin King, would you blame him?