How well Daan takes that information is both a relief and relatively novel. Even at the best of times, the reveal had been marked with thinly veiled threats of keeping his hunger in check, or accusations of secrecy (as if he did much of anything to hide it? Openly showing his fangs and the glint of unnaturally red eyes and deathly pale skin somehow didn't give it away to people, apparently). The whole thing is oddly refreshing, and he laughs under his breath.

"I like you already," he says, watching the other scope out the heavier stones around the building entrance.

Watching him shatter the window earns a delightedly amused scoff. Well then!

"My, how-" Astarion gestures with his hand when Daan appears again, as if he's grasping for the right word. He laughs, and settles on, "-efficient."

Stepping inside, he feels a smug twitch curl the corners of his lips. A little shiver runs down his spine upon crossing the threshold. Like whatever curse governs his existence as a vampire only begrudgingly acknowledges its rules being followed.

"I don't particularly love being beholden to the rules, but it is always satisfying to best them. Thank you."