[ Gale inspects the book thoroughly, flipping through the pages looking for rips, stains, or Gods forbid, blood — he hopes Astarion had the presence of mind not to take his meals anywhere near it. All seems to be in order, and his smile only grows... only for his joy to be unceremoniously stomped on by the word 'fine'. Quite possibly one of the worst words in the Common language, as far as Gale's concerned.
He glances up from the book, scoffing in disbelief. ]
'Fine'? Fine.
[ He shakes his head, disappointed. ]
You've every word in our vast language to paint a picture of your thoughts, and you choose 'fine'.
[ Sometimes, he wonders if Astarion is purposefully trying to irritate or if it just comes naturally to him. He snaps the book shut, holding it to his chest. ]
Tell me, then. Which part of it was the most fine?
no subject
He glances up from the book, scoffing in disbelief. ]
'Fine'? Fine.
[ He shakes his head, disappointed. ]
You've every word in our vast language to paint a picture of your thoughts, and you choose 'fine'.
[ Sometimes, he wonders if Astarion is purposefully trying to irritate or if it just comes naturally to him. He snaps the book shut, holding it to his chest. ]
Tell me, then. Which part of it was the most fine?