if it doesn't burn a little
She flashes him a grin and a laugh. ”What can I say? A girl’s gotta enjoy a little luxury now and again.” Which is true enough, even if he was only teasing. She doesn’t mind her ningo feather filled bed, really. It is nice to come home some days and collapse into something soft and kind, rather than the hard and unforgiving landscape of her home.
Her laugh at his antics is a pleasant sound, and her eyes twinkle slightly. As his hair comes to rest in a mess on the top of his head, she reaches up to tossle it more, assuming he doesn’t duck away. ”It’s a good look for you,” she says with a wink, and truthfully, it isn’t half bad. That unkempt, careless look sometimes is a good thing, not that she’s suggesting he adopt it forever.
She lets her hand drop away as he flinches, looking over the map in his hands. A day is not enough time to complete a map, but it’s certainly enough time to spend with someone else that the memory must sting. ”Take it with you. Perhaps one day, you will finish it.”
Her laugh at his antics is a pleasant sound, and her eyes twinkle slightly. As his hair comes to rest in a mess on the top of his head, she reaches up to tossle it more, assuming he doesn’t duck away. ”It’s a good look for you,” she says with a wink, and truthfully, it isn’t half bad. That unkempt, careless look sometimes is a good thing, not that she’s suggesting he adopt it forever.
She lets her hand drop away as he flinches, looking over the map in his hands. A day is not enough time to complete a map, but it’s certainly enough time to spend with someone else that the memory must sting. ”Take it with you. Perhaps one day, you will finish it.”
-- weaver
then what's the point in playing with fire?
