(no subject)
The pale boy, extreme pallor only heightened by the black scarf and sombre grey of his slightly old-fashioned school uniform looks startled as he takes in the Nexus for the first time and then promptly masks this by scowling -- a typically Bran response to just about anything. "Please Ask A Question?" he scoffs. "Leaving yourselves a bit out there, but all right. Suspending judgement about the wisdom of asking advice of anyone daft enough to think that that (the sign) is a good decoration, then how is it that my so-called best friend's clearly holding back something I ought to know, says he's sorry for it which is good as admitting he's in the wrong, but still won't tell me what it is -- how is it, then, that I'm the one feeling guilty?"
The light Welsh lilt to Bran's words gets more pronounced the further he gets in his diatribe, and he ends his question with a deeper scowl, pausing to glare mutinously at the sign before remembering that he may have got off topic. "Also," he adds belatedly and with less heat, "the name Pendragon mean anything to you?"
The light Welsh lilt to Bran's words gets more pronounced the further he gets in his diatribe, and he ends his question with a deeper scowl, pausing to glare mutinously at the sign before remembering that he may have got off topic. "Also," he adds belatedly and with less heat, "the name Pendragon mean anything to you?"