Kinda lame? Ooh... Yes, please. More of that! Now, he's quite sure that that is indeed the name of this place (wherever it begins and wherever it ends), but considering his main source for this information is, well, Woya...
"I'm sure we could," he agrees, purring internally at this odd stroke of fortune.
And maybe we will. Sky's the limit, after all.
Malien is pleasantly surprised at the reaction to his rather unorthodox take on a nickname. He had expected, well.. a sneer, maybe? Being told he is disrespectful? That it is a really dumb and childish nickname? (And honestly, it is: it's a bit of a mouthful, he just told it for jokes.)
"Aww, thank you," he says at the mention of
only for you. Malien likes things being only for him. He's not possessive per se, he just.. yeah. He thinks he's special, so he enjoys being treated that way - yet, of course, his response is presented in the spirit of the jests.
But just because it's glossed over as banter doesn't mean it doesn't hold a kernel of truth.
Hearing his name said back to him...
He's not sure what to make of it. His mind is a wasteland, there's a fallen star; it took part of the sky with it when it fell, and even though he has tried to put it firmly behind him it just won't leave him alone. Between that and the weird spark of
potential hanging along his fanciful imaginations in these mountains he just feels - adrift. Lost, or out of control?
"Pft," he says, trying to keep an involuntary grin of sorts from spreading, but the corner of his mouth twitches.
"You have my permission to sin. As long as I know it's for me, I'll listen." There's something earnest in his gaze as he says it, ears sweeping forward, but.. it's just one of those half-lies he drops with too much ease. Malien only listens if he wants to.