Despite the spite in Flora's voice Tal's scowl twitched towards a grin. He started to open his mouth to add something regrettable witty, but for once his filter kicked in before the words made it from his brain to his mouth and he swallowed them back. Thinking about why they were such a bad choice had him changing the subject as he retrieved the glue and sat down again.
He wasn't alone for long. Flora's lantern was eye-catching and unique and he didn't bother to stop the low whistle of admiration as he looked it over. "Never heard o' any rhyme or reason to Its choices," he admitted, trying to figure out how she'd gotten the ivy to grow just right. "But with your whole family wishin' it, I figure he's got a better chance o' comin' back for th'night than most."
His own lantern was far simpler: a simple framework of lightweight wood with rice paper walls of red and yellow. The designs painted on the paper were drawn by a hand that had more steadiness than talent. A couple of corners of the paper walls were starting to peel up, and he applied the glue brush with intense focus and a delicate touch, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth when he wasn't speaking. "Mm. My parents," he revealed gruffly, sentiment roughening his voice. "Dad was a Shield, but he got killed th'LongNight when th'White Lady's cultists attacked th'Citadel." He hesitated a moment, then added more quietly. "Mom just... kinda gave up after that'n spent the next year drinkin' herself t'death til she could be with 'im again, I guess." At least he and his sisters had all been adults by then, though it was cold enough comfort.
He cleared his throat, peeking at Flora's lantern again while the glue dried. "D'you know what you'll say t'him next time y'see 'im?" he asked, nodding to the confection of stones and satins that sparkled beside his own.
He wasn't alone for long. Flora's lantern was eye-catching and unique and he didn't bother to stop the low whistle of admiration as he looked it over. "Never heard o' any rhyme or reason to Its choices," he admitted, trying to figure out how she'd gotten the ivy to grow just right. "But with your whole family wishin' it, I figure he's got a better chance o' comin' back for th'night than most."
His own lantern was far simpler: a simple framework of lightweight wood with rice paper walls of red and yellow. The designs painted on the paper were drawn by a hand that had more steadiness than talent. A couple of corners of the paper walls were starting to peel up, and he applied the glue brush with intense focus and a delicate touch, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth when he wasn't speaking. "Mm. My parents," he revealed gruffly, sentiment roughening his voice. "Dad was a Shield, but he got killed th'LongNight when th'White Lady's cultists attacked th'Citadel." He hesitated a moment, then added more quietly. "Mom just... kinda gave up after that'n spent the next year drinkin' herself t'death til she could be with 'im again, I guess." At least he and his sisters had all been adults by then, though it was cold enough comfort.
He cleared his throat, peeking at Flora's lantern again while the glue dried. "D'you know what you'll say t'him next time y'see 'im?" he asked, nodding to the confection of stones and satins that sparkled beside his own.
