Kell looks up in surprise. Has he really said owns? He's long been thinking it, but the thought is close to treason. Something in him stirs, restless and defiant and nearly pleased, a feeling that blooms all the more when Sirius calls him a person.
He feels warm and, if not happy, encouraged to hear another person say it. He's almost smiling when the chips arrive, but it falters when the woman's smile is something he doesn't know how to read. Sirius, on the other hand, has no similar problem, but Kell doesn't feel particularly reassured. He lifts the packet as one would a viper and opens it carefully, frowning when a card with his image on it falls out, along with a key marked Candlewood.
"When could this have been made?" he wonders, lifting the card. His picture there is better than any scrying board, and shows his red coat, one that's yet to be turned out here.
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He feels warm and, if not happy, encouraged to hear another person say it. He's almost smiling when the chips arrive, but it falters when the woman's smile is something he doesn't know how to read. Sirius, on the other hand, has no similar problem, but Kell doesn't feel particularly reassured. He lifts the packet as one would a viper and opens it carefully, frowning when a card with his image on it falls out, along with a key marked Candlewood.
"When could this have been made?" he wonders, lifting the card. His picture there is better than any scrying board, and shows his red coat, one that's yet to be turned out here.