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“Hello, wizard,” Astarion greets with a familiar grin. It catches Gale off guard — he’d forgotten just how disarming the elf could be.
“Astarion? I don’t— what are you doing here?” Gale’s brow furrows.
Astarion juts out his chin and crosses his arms over his chest. “Come now, darling. Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Then he turns, addressing a very short companion to his left. Gale hadn’t even registered her presence. “I should have warned you about his poor manners. Do try not to turn out like him, yes?”
“Okay,” she replies.
Astarion had brought a child to Gale’s front doorstep.