She reaches up to twirl the end of her braid as they talk. ”Bad,” she admits. ”Though I don’t just think it’s that, ya know? Though that fucked him up pretty good.” In time, he’d come to terms with it. Things like that got easier, if only slightly, but he would need to come to some peace. That may not be the last life he is forced to take. She hopes it will be, but with things going as they are, it seems possible he will be faced with the task again. She hopes he acts as he did with the cannibal, that he doesn’t freeze or hesitate. To hesitate is to lose.
”Oh, that’s not fair. I can’t hurt such cute little mice.” The air gusts stop, not really strong enough to do anything to the mice anyway most like. Still, she watches them on the tray, knowing they are not quite ‘real’, but she doesn’t want to hurt them all the same. Instead, she drops a hand toward Loren, going for one armpit holding the tray. Maybe he was ticklish….or at the very least, she could distract him.
At the mention of trust though, she meets his gaze. Her amber eyes are so alive, as if the fire inside her can be seen in them. ”Surprisingly, I do trust you Loren. I don’t know about Neron, and definitely not Zariah. But you, yea.” Though she listens as he goes on, forgetting about the scones and dropping to sit on the counter in front of him. Her legs spread slightly, because she is vastly unladylike, with her hands in between, holding the edge of the countertop. She looks very at home in the Palace kitchens, simply because she looks at home most anywhere. ”Are you suggesting what I think you are as an actual option?” She asks, because she cannot quite believe it.
”Oh, that’s not fair. I can’t hurt such cute little mice.” The air gusts stop, not really strong enough to do anything to the mice anyway most like. Still, she watches them on the tray, knowing they are not quite ‘real’, but she doesn’t want to hurt them all the same. Instead, she drops a hand toward Loren, going for one armpit holding the tray. Maybe he was ticklish….or at the very least, she could distract him.
At the mention of trust though, she meets his gaze. Her amber eyes are so alive, as if the fire inside her can be seen in them. ”Surprisingly, I do trust you Loren. I don’t know about Neron, and definitely not Zariah. But you, yea.” Though she listens as he goes on, forgetting about the scones and dropping to sit on the counter in front of him. Her legs spread slightly, because she is vastly unladylike, with her hands in between, holding the edge of the countertop. She looks very at home in the Palace kitchens, simply because she looks at home most anywhere. ”Are you suggesting what I think you are as an actual option?” She asks, because she cannot quite believe it.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
