[He fiddles with his rings a moment before he picks up the bread to sample it as well. It's too sweet by far, but it's something he can more readily adjust to than the absolute cacophony of flavour in the stew.
The fact of the matter is, the truth of a person isn't in what they say, or what they don't say. It's in their hands. Their eyes. The way they hold themselves. The manner in which they speak. He's spent enough time amongst men whose languages he didn't comprehend to know how to read intent in anything from a look to the twitch of a muscle. Flint is not a fearsome pirate because he is the strongest fighter, or the best tactician, or the most brutal - though he has been at varying points of his life all three of those things - but because he can read the scripture of a soul laid bare before him. But he is of no mind to surrender that knowledge, for in many respects it is his greatest weapon.
He lifts the spoon to his mouth, samples the soup a second time now braced for its peculiarities.]
no subject
The fact of the matter is, the truth of a person isn't in what they say, or what they don't say. It's in their hands. Their eyes. The way they hold themselves. The manner in which they speak. He's spent enough time amongst men whose languages he didn't comprehend to know how to read intent in anything from a look to the twitch of a muscle. Flint is not a fearsome pirate because he is the strongest fighter, or the best tactician, or the most brutal - though he has been at varying points of his life all three of those things - but because he can read the scripture of a soul laid bare before him. But he is of no mind to surrender that knowledge, for in many respects it is his greatest weapon.
He lifts the spoon to his mouth, samples the soup a second time now braced for its peculiarities.]
What manner of question would you have me ask?