Stone's Throw

[Andreas Amell]

"Philistine," Andreas says airily, nose firmly in the air. 

[Charon Tethras]

"City-slicker."

[Adonis Naodi]

Don's been acting odd most of the afternoon as the pair make light chatter, discussing his father's health. And honestly that does explain it, quite a bit -- his father's health is rapidly declining, rapider than expected. Still, he's a bit twitchy. 

"Sia," he finally gets around to saying as they sit down to a late lunch. "There's something I've been trying to figure out how to ask you...."

That's when the doorbell rings. 

[NPCs]

"You know you can..." Sia chuckles softly as she glances towards the sound of the bell with her topaz coloured eyes. "Answer the door, evidently," she finishes, half as a tease, half as assurance she doesn't mind.

[Adonis Naodi]

Don winces. "That's, actually, probably what I have to speak to you about. You see... Andreas zi'Tethras is coming for a visit." The lad prefers Amell, but Don picks the surname carefully to emphasize his connection to Varric and minimize the connection to Beth.

[NPCs]

Sia tilts her tawny furred head, the silver beads sewn into her left ear glinting in the light of the Continual Flames overhead. Seven beads, each one declaring her a veteran of another hunting season spent successfully leading a hunting team. "Tethras," she murmurs, gesturing at him to answer the door as she thinks. "That's the dwarven holder family, yes-yes?"

[Adonis Naodi]

"Yes. He is coming to... pay his respects to the Keeper, and to get to know him, in his final days. He plans to stay through Cadmus's passing."

[NPCs]

"I see," Sia murmurs, nodding. "Well, I'm certainly not going to stand in the way of someone wishing to know their heritage. Go, tend to your people, Don."

[Adonis Naodi]

Still, he hesitates. "I am unsure if you are aware but... his mother, Bethany, shared my heat." 

[NPCs]

Sia raises an eyebrow. "But does she still?"

[Adonis Naodi]

"No. Not for many years. But the year before they were born, yes."

[NPCs]

"Good," Sia says firmly, flashing him a coy smile. "Not that I mind a little competition, mind you. Anyway, go welcome your old flame's son."

[Charon Tethras]

Charon has never seen a house so large. He'd not realized it of course, but of course Adonis zi'Goldclaw lives in a huge mansion in Aurora. So of course he'd had to walk in his fancy clothes all the way through Meadows and Bedrock before he can find the damn place. He'd gotten stare after stare on the way, at least in Coalside, and he'd had to warn off six pickpockets before he gets to Meadows. At least there the stares are less, though there's still some notice taken of him and his suitcase. (Because of course a duffel isn't good enough for Mr Prisspants. This suitcase is twice as big as it looks, and it looks plenty decent sized, with all-terrain wheels and a brass handle. Charon was lucky at times to have a pillowcase he could stuff his things into, or a gunny sack.) 

By the time he turns up on the doorstep, his shoes are muddy, the bottoms of his trousers are damp and muddy, and his expression is pretty grim. "Good afternoon," he manages to say to the butler, who scowls back.

"One moment while I see if he is at home." Not waiting for Charon to say a word, the butler turns, closing the door. 

[Adonis Naodi]

So when Adonis makes his way to the hallway, he runs into his butler, who sniffs. "Another cat to see you, sir. Shall I send him away?"

"No no. What? I'm sure it's important," Adonis replies, pushing past the butler. I'll just handle this before my son-- "Andreas?!"

"...I said I was coming, didn't I?" Charon sniffs, trying to sound pretentious. 

"Bharnerol's whiskers, what happened? Are you alright?"

"I dropped some varnish on my head," he remembers. 

"Come in, let's get you cleaned up," he says, ushering the boy in. "Smithers, this is Andreas zi'Tethras. He will be staying here a while, and he's to be given anything he asks for. Understand?"

"Very good, sir."

[NPCs]

Evidently curious, Nyessia had trailed after Adonis after a brief pause. Which means she's in time to hear the back end of their conversation, including, "oh my, you poor thing!"

Pushing away from the wall she'd been leaning against, she offers a warm smile. The catfolk woman is tall for their kind and carries a good heft of muscle on her frame despite her modest but still very feminine silhouette. She's also not dressed like Don or the cats from Cattown; instead, she's wearing some kind of reptile leather and has feathers tied in her hair. "Don, I have some very good conditioners that I brought from home if..."