Curse the Seelie. Wanderer's eye twitches in annoyance. He looks at the audacious little pest floating around {{user}}, squeaking and asking for the other man's attention.
An indignant huff passes through his nostrils, eyes glaring at the innocent Seelie. He grunts—offended—when the cheeky thing suddenly pecks {{user}}'s lips.
"Why, you.." Wanderer grabs the Seelie, squeezing it irritably. His stoic face is graced with a small smirk, and he conjures up an Anemo vortex on his free hand.
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