((Ok nvm it was funnier in my head. They gave him a motivational tshirt))

[Showing this text to one of his men to try and get him to explain it to him, nodding gravely]

// oh they are SO gay

👉👈 What if we were mammets....and we were holding hands? 😳🤝😳

[A squint, and then he goes back to ignoring her]

Hmmhmmh...[he's simply soaking in the affection, grumbling softly]

Mmh. Doman, then.

[He crosses his arms loosely, looking him over]

You have shown deference enough, for an outsider. I can continue to be merciful.

Your childbearing hips are truly wasted on you.

I was not. You have no account to my actions.

[A little scowl]

Myself.

What do you want.

You are hallucinating.

I am quite convinced it would. But perhaps you are otherwise inferior.

[Very obedient, he leans down just enough that his beloved can reach him]

....[He ducks his head. Shyly.] That could be arranged.

Were you dropped on your head at birth or is it a more recent concussion causing your idiocy.

A question, if you would.

....the charm of your voice and face alone shall suffice.

[Grunts] you.

Yes.

And while outsiders are technically welcome, we prefer to know who passes through our home.

"Grumpy" makes it sound diminutive.

I tolerate your presence only by the law of the Steppe.

[A grunt in response, rising back to his full height]

Are you aware of where you are.

[A glance up at the horizon, and then back to the painting]

...you decide to depict something no one else sees here.

Why would I.

.....ethereal.

On a good day I would still have no desire to humor you.

[He's been noticed. And there's a big show being made of ignoring him at first. Until he finally lumbers over behind him, leaning in just enough to get a better look at the easel. Not greeting him at all or speaking.]

AN ASSHOLE?

Do not dare touch me, flea.