Evie
Evie already has so few people to accompany her on the day of the ceremony that the prospect of visiting Hadama at the Bay is far from a hassle. It would in fact be quite nice to have a private moment out on the beach to breathe and center herself amidst any pre-wedding nerves, with Hadama there to ground her and share in her happiness. Squeezing his hands, she nods fervently. "I'll be waiting there the morning of the ceremony. Our usual training spot." It has the most accessible pathway given the frequent treading of Academy students, and would ensure they wouldn't lose valuable time trying to find each other across miles of sand.
Mischief is an expression she rarely sees on Hadama, though she nevertheless preens at the frequency she is permitted to do so as compared to what others might know of the man. It's difficult to wait when the promise of a surprise is at hand, but it's worth it when he emerges with a beautiful shell in hand, ceasing all idle jitters as Evie takes in its beauty.
Her hands shake slightly as she reaches out to caress the polished exterior, little tears pricking in her eyes and darkening the ginger shade of her lashes. "It's beautiful Dama," she murmurs, gently taking it into her own hands to rotate it and brush her fingertips over the bumps and ridges. Then she presses it to her chest, smiling radiantly despite the sheen in her eyes. "I'll keep it with me the entire time. Thank you." And this time she leans into a hug with him, refusing to part with her gift even when it makes it difficult to embrace.
Mischief is an expression she rarely sees on Hadama, though she nevertheless preens at the frequency she is permitted to do so as compared to what others might know of the man. It's difficult to wait when the promise of a surprise is at hand, but it's worth it when he emerges with a beautiful shell in hand, ceasing all idle jitters as Evie takes in its beauty.
Her hands shake slightly as she reaches out to caress the polished exterior, little tears pricking in her eyes and darkening the ginger shade of her lashes. "It's beautiful Dama," she murmurs, gently taking it into her own hands to rotate it and brush her fingertips over the bumps and ridges. Then she presses it to her chest, smiling radiantly despite the sheen in her eyes. "I'll keep it with me the entire time. Thank you." And this time she leans into a hug with him, refusing to part with her gift even when it makes it difficult to embrace.
a golden cage, for all its worth and beauty
is still just a cage
is still just a cage
