[Hector lies in his bed, drowsing. He'd returned from Isaac's quarters and given himself a much less luxurious scrubbing down with cold water from a wash basin before laying himself down. He has already resolved that when he rises tomorrow, he will begin collecting materials to build himself a tub as fine as Isaac's.
His instincts are honed to sense threats; foreign magical signatures, hostile intent. Isaac's aura is known and accepted, and his approach doesn't send Hector shooting up from his furs. He's vaguely aware of the noise and the glow in the hallway, and he shifts lazily from his side to his back to peer up into the darkness.
His eyes catch the silhouette of his rival standing above him, and he hums, pleased.]
Come, sit.... [He murmurs, drawing back the furs to make a place for him.]
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His instincts are honed to sense threats; foreign magical signatures, hostile intent. Isaac's aura is known and accepted, and his approach doesn't send Hector shooting up from his furs. He's vaguely aware of the noise and the glow in the hallway, and he shifts lazily from his side to his back to peer up into the darkness.
His eyes catch the silhouette of his rival standing above him, and he hums, pleased.]
Come, sit.... [He murmurs, drawing back the furs to make a place for him.]