Whatever ailment appears to fall over him, the stranger seems to catch himself before he collapses, so Rue does not feel the need to rush forward and lower him gently to the floor. But Javert never once leaves the focus of their big-eyed, owlish stare. They will keep an eye on him, just in case.
The furry ears are quite darling. They remind the owlbear of their husband-to-be.
"Pray, I beg for your forgiveness, good sir. Being so suddenly imprisoned like this has clearly knocked all manner of decorum right out of me." It is with a flourish of feather and lavish skirts that the owlbear curtsies, their movement remarkably elegant for their shape and size, graceful even in their gentle head bow. "My name is Delloso de la Rue. Whatever titles I used to hold were given up freely some time ago. Nowadays, I simply go by Rue."
Saying that never gets old. They feel more and more free every time.
"As for that awful detention, it did not matter in the slightest. Everyone was on the same footing in that place, whether the crime committed was true or not, or whether an apology was even warranted." Finally, finally, Rue's attention drifts back to their captors, one of which is nosing a water-tight bag of colorful macarons ashore. The owlbear hoots in soft delight before plucking it up in between their talons. "Agreed. I don't believe it's forgiveness they are after this time, but whatever the case, they don't seem to want us to starve."
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The furry ears are quite darling. They remind the owlbear of their husband-to-be.
"Pray, I beg for your forgiveness, good sir. Being so suddenly imprisoned like this has clearly knocked all manner of decorum right out of me." It is with a flourish of feather and lavish skirts that the owlbear curtsies, their movement remarkably elegant for their shape and size, graceful even in their gentle head bow. "My name is Delloso de la Rue. Whatever titles I used to hold were given up freely some time ago. Nowadays, I simply go by Rue."
Saying that never gets old. They feel more and more free every time.
"As for that awful detention, it did not matter in the slightest. Everyone was on the same footing in that place, whether the crime committed was true or not, or whether an apology was even warranted." Finally, finally, Rue's attention drifts back to their captors, one of which is nosing a water-tight bag of colorful macarons ashore. The owlbear hoots in soft delight before plucking it up in between their talons. "Agreed. I don't believe it's forgiveness they are after this time, but whatever the case, they don't seem to want us to starve."