[center][h2][color=#008b8b]Fionn MacKerracher[/color][/h2][/center]
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Perhaps one of the things that most ingratiated Fionn to the various fey he had met in his days was the way he had maintained his sense of wonder at the world around him, despite long since having grown out of the childhood where it was expected. Even when the fey themselves were something he was comfortable and familiar with, wherever his natural curiosity and delight at his experiences came out, it—at the very least—seemed to entertain them. The wide-eyed gaze that he faced the hulking crow-man with as a blade materialized out of the air was simply an obvious, outward expression of such.

He reverently took the offered hilt, stepping back and twirling the raven-black blade in a short moulinet just to feel the weight of it. How the balance felt, compared to what he was used to, how he may have to adjust on the fly; already, he was accounting for the comparitive [i]lack[/i] of a guard, the sword barely having a bolster to help keep his hand from sliding up to the edge on a thrust. The pommel was little more than a faint, knob-like swell at the end of the grip, not the large, weighty ring that ensured he'd never [i]not[/i] feel the alignment of his edge, that had long since shown its worth in breaking bones and shattering teeth of those who thought they could get inside his guard...

With a grin, he unclasped his sword and sheathe from his belt, holding it back out towards Súileabhán. [color=#008b8b]"I understand your misgivings, but I'll make sure this isn't wasted. In return, I'd like it if you'd watch over my blade until I can return this to you."[/color] He glanced over at the Moonlit Queen just off to the side. [color=#008b8b]"Not indefinitely, mind. I [i]am[/i] rather attached to that sword, like how Súileabhán doesn't [i]like[/i] lending this to me. Call it collateral, if you like, but I am entrusting it to your safe keeping."[/color]

Only as a temporary loaner or not, getting to use such a fine blade [i]was[/i] still a princely gift. It was only fitting to return some trust to them.

Without another moment to spare, his hair resumed its natural hue, the cohort standing once more in the altogether more normal forest that they were used to. He didn't have long to consider much of a plan, though, before a diminutive head with flaming yellow eyes claimed his full field of vision. And his face grew hot. Almost uncomfortably so, even, like his pale skin was about to start burning...

[color=#008b8b][i]"Cad é mar atá tú?"[/i][/color] he asked, resisting the urge to pull away to avoid any excess heat. He didn't want to appear impolite, after all, certainly not to Feinyar hovering just before his nose. [color=#008b8b][i]"Cad is ainm duit? Is mise Fionn."[/i][/color]