Nodding, and wishing somehow he could grant all that energy back to her, he placed the figures and drawings down, and began to bring them to life. Tangible notions instead of mere sketches – portions and pieces of wood purposefully light to give her the opportunity to paint them with the highlights of their minds, lattice-works and boards, longer proponents meant to hold, others meant to withstand. Only when they’d become a neat but still somewhat scattered pile along the floor, did he unearth a little, mild snort, and stand from the surface, taking hold of sections in his hands.
The subject of names should’ve been expected, but his eyes widened still. It made the sentiments all the more a reality – not that crafting cribs didn’t - and his face settled swiftly into a wider, if slightly mischievous, grin. “Probably. Did you have any that you really wanted?” Figments of ancestry she wanted to honor? Aspects of places, people, held close to her heart? Or something new altogether – an identity all their own, yet again.
His mind reeled over other aspects, until pinpointing on latest conversations. “Kiada suggested something starting with Ere…but could not remember the rest.” But he’d gone on his own search thereafter.
The subject of names should’ve been expected, but his eyes widened still. It made the sentiments all the more a reality – not that crafting cribs didn’t - and his face settled swiftly into a wider, if slightly mischievous, grin. “Probably. Did you have any that you really wanted?” Figments of ancestry she wanted to honor? Aspects of places, people, held close to her heart? Or something new altogether – an identity all their own, yet again.
His mind reeled over other aspects, until pinpointing on latest conversations. “Kiada suggested something starting with Ere…but could not remember the rest.” But he’d gone on his own search thereafter.
deimos
Never let them drain the river of your soul
