"Oh. Well. Maybe I am, then," he chuckles, the smile on his face broadening to a grin.
He's too busy looking at the man in front of him to realize he's being looked at, too - the sparkle in his eyes, the delicate features, the pale hair that looks softer than any silk he's ever spun. He finds himself wanting very badly to reach out and touch, but...no, no, that's rude, people aren't sheep and you just can't DO that.
"Absolutely. I cast a little spell when I spin the yarn so that it holds the sunlight in. That's why my name means 'sun.'" He chuckles a little. "...My name is Solin. Solin Eder. Town witch, apparently."
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He's too busy looking at the man in front of him to realize he's being looked at, too - the sparkle in his eyes, the delicate features, the pale hair that looks softer than any silk he's ever spun. He finds himself wanting very badly to reach out and touch, but...no, no, that's rude, people aren't sheep and you just can't DO that.
"Absolutely. I cast a little spell when I spin the yarn so that it holds the sunlight in. That's why my name means 'sun.'" He chuckles a little. "...My name is Solin. Solin Eder. Town witch, apparently."