[There is a centaur in the garden, built like a warhorse and white from horn-tip to hooves. The exception are the pair of brilliant blue eyes he possesses. For now, he is down amongst some forget-me-nots, idly studying a blue rose he has in one hand. In the other, he has a quill which he uses to jolt down something in a leather notebook he has down against the ground.]
[For any who would wander near or catch his eye, well... Darkleer may be a gentleman, but he is also a centaur. Upon realizing someone is close by, he will look up, quiet and serious... before the expression melts into a slow, confident, and welcoming smile.]
Open!
[For any who would wander near or catch his eye, well... Darkleer may be a gentleman, but he is also a centaur. Upon realizing someone is close by, he will look up, quiet and serious... before the expression melts into a slow, confident, and welcoming smile.]
[He won't mind a bit of company. Not at all.]