"Not truly," Teja says. "Not by strangers, men or women that might desire me, stare at scars, or both."
He reaches out to run one feather-light fingertip over Charlie's right collarbone, remembering what he had said the other time.
Clavicle.
"I might roll up my sleeves," he allows.
He is wearing his clothes for going to future times tonight -- black leather breeches of timeless cut, a modern black silken shirt, the sleeves of which he now rolls up, exposing sinewy forearms. On the right, he is wearing the sliver cuff bracelet Charlie had given him; and, if one saw him from close by and in good light, there were some scars on it, his sword-arm, unprotected by his shield in battle; but they are thin and faint, three or five pale lines on equally pale skin.
Re: Greeting
He reaches out to run one feather-light fingertip over Charlie's right collarbone, remembering what he had said the other time.
Clavicle.
"I might roll up my sleeves," he allows.
He is wearing his clothes for going to future times tonight -- black leather breeches of timeless cut, a modern black silken shirt, the sleeves of which he now rolls up, exposing sinewy forearms. On the right, he is wearing the sliver cuff bracelet Charlie had given him; and, if one saw him from close by and in good light, there were some scars on it, his sword-arm, unprotected by his shield in battle; but they are thin and faint, three or five pale lines on equally pale skin.