good night, sweet prince

"Are you sure about that? You do cut a very intimidating figure," Isla remarks to Remi, giving him a gentle nudge as they walk. Her eyes purposely remain on the alchemist, trusting him to lead the way (and simultaneously trying to make herself seem as unthreatening as possible to the trees and whatever might be hiding in them). Her shoulders relax to hear Ronin is alive, even if not present, and she nods slowly. "That sounds difficult," she says, but leaves the topic alone with little more than a gentle squeeze against his fingers. Besides, they're talking about Mateo by this point, the babe who shouldn't be, and her pebble blues widen enough to make her look positively girlish as he explains. Huffing out a breathless sort of laugh, Isla can only offer a shrug. "That sounds so positively insane, I have no choice but to believe you," she says simply. "I'm honoured, though. That you thought of me." ISLA pray for me pray to me