Merlin, she was damnably pretty.
And it appeared she had some faculties of common sense, which was more than he expected of a lot of her sex. It took all he had not to split his face in a smile from her words: as someone who thought smiling at strangers - and smiling at girls - would make him look soft, Kris presumed the twitch upwards of the corner of his mouth would do to show his appreciation.
"I wouldn't need them," Kristoffer agreed, matter-of-factly, "but that doesn't mean it wouldn't make things more interesting." Fun for him, he meant, mostly. Though perhaps also more effective, he considered, as an afterthought. When had docking a few points ever truly changed anyone's attitude? "I know a few people here that could use a good fright." Putting the fear of Merlin into people, on the other hand? A little bit of roughing up? Would be nice.
"Miss... Borgin, wasn't it?" He inquired, his curiosity unusually earnest. He'd only gotten that far from the mention of her father, and the vague notion that the Borgins owned a shop. This would not have been anything to gloat about - Lestranges didn't associate with shopkeepers and their ilk, please - but the name Borgin and the girl's description of her father did call to mind a vision of ill-gotten goods and items of questionable use. So his interest was piqued.
And it appeared she had some faculties of common sense, which was more than he expected of a lot of her sex. It took all he had not to split his face in a smile from her words: as someone who thought smiling at strangers - and smiling at girls - would make him look soft, Kris presumed the twitch upwards of the corner of his mouth would do to show his appreciation.
"I wouldn't need them," Kristoffer agreed, matter-of-factly, "but that doesn't mean it wouldn't make things more interesting." Fun for him, he meant, mostly. Though perhaps also more effective, he considered, as an afterthought. When had docking a few points ever truly changed anyone's attitude? "I know a few people here that could use a good fright." Putting the fear of Merlin into people, on the other hand? A little bit of roughing up? Would be nice.
"Miss... Borgin, wasn't it?" He inquired, his curiosity unusually earnest. He'd only gotten that far from the mention of her father, and the vague notion that the Borgins owned a shop. This would not have been anything to gloat about - Lestranges didn't associate with shopkeepers and their ilk, please - but the name Borgin and the girl's description of her father did call to mind a vision of ill-gotten goods and items of questionable use. So his interest was piqued.
