In my brightest reverie I can see her walking next to me
I feel her breath upon my cheek, speaking gentle words to tame the beast
I feel her breath upon my cheek, speaking gentle words to tame the beast
Sohalia's agreement is all she needs, dropping the topic with a firm tilt of her chin. It must be becoming clear to Sohalia that this is who Anju is; a woman of order and control, perfectionism and alignment. It merely lends itself to her status as a Dragoon, not the other way around. There was no 'relaxing' when off duty, because she did not need or desire it.
Compliments are not what she expects, and her expression becomes almost startled, unequipped to deal with it. For a moment she lapses into silence as she transports the pot to the trivet on the island, turning off the stove and tilting the hot mass of sugar onto the covered counter. "Thank you," she finally utters, realizing she has been contemplative too long. "I am glad to hear that. Without a leader or a formal title it has been difficult to rely on the morals of those around us to adhere to structure with little enforcement." They follow her because they do not know what else to do. Or at least that is how she perceives it, never one to boast or brag her own accomplishments or favorable traits (which she doesn't perceive herself to have). "But I am proud of my fellows, and the people of this city for having the heart to continue following what once existed. Though at times misguided by the men who led them, Children of the Storm have good hearts." Taking up the protective gloves she had ordered, she hands one pair to Sohalia with a slight smile. "So you are surrounded by your fellows." Because Sohalia clearly has a good heart as well.
Gesturing to the taffy, Anju slides her own gloves on. "Now we cut it in half and each of us kneads the food dye into it before we stretch it and cut them into pieces." She begins to liberally spread the dye before handing it Sohalia, folding the taffy with the flat rectangle instrument the seller had instructed her to use so as not to burn her hands, folding the sugar over the dye and beginning to knead and flip it until the black shade is dispersed.
Compliments are not what she expects, and her expression becomes almost startled, unequipped to deal with it. For a moment she lapses into silence as she transports the pot to the trivet on the island, turning off the stove and tilting the hot mass of sugar onto the covered counter. "Thank you," she finally utters, realizing she has been contemplative too long. "I am glad to hear that. Without a leader or a formal title it has been difficult to rely on the morals of those around us to adhere to structure with little enforcement." They follow her because they do not know what else to do. Or at least that is how she perceives it, never one to boast or brag her own accomplishments or favorable traits (which she doesn't perceive herself to have). "But I am proud of my fellows, and the people of this city for having the heart to continue following what once existed. Though at times misguided by the men who led them, Children of the Storm have good hearts." Taking up the protective gloves she had ordered, she hands one pair to Sohalia with a slight smile. "So you are surrounded by your fellows." Because Sohalia clearly has a good heart as well.
Gesturing to the taffy, Anju slides her own gloves on. "Now we cut it in half and each of us kneads the food dye into it before we stretch it and cut them into pieces." She begins to liberally spread the dye before handing it Sohalia, folding the taffy with the flat rectangle instrument the seller had instructed her to use so as not to burn her hands, folding the sugar over the dye and beginning to knead and flip it until the black shade is dispersed.
Anju
