Sohalia
Whatever grace and dignity Sohalia possessed, it certainly was not available at present. She was as near to panic as she'd ever been, trying to get it through this man's seemingly thick skull that she was not whatever he thought she was. He didn't seem willing to just let her go, and the way he leered at her made her increasingly fearful. Her options were limited; she had no access to her staff, having left it at the inn where she'd chosen to stay, not thinking she'd need it around Sunjata. She carried no other weapons. Nor did it occur to her, in her panic, to scream.
When Sunjata appeared seemingly out of thin air, Soh nearly melted with relief. That is, until she saw the horns and the wings that sprouted from his head and back, respectively. Then she paled, surprised and awed by the display (and perhaps a little nervous). But when Sunjata's wing curled protectively around her, she suddenly felt safe. Surely only a madman would attempt to force their way through the draconic form Sunjata now wore, and thankfully, he seemed keen to help her. She took the moment of tension between the two men to calm herself; she swallowed hard and smoothed her skirts, glaring at the stranger with much more animosity than she'd been able to muster moments before (or ever, in fact). Meanwhile, the other man cursed, eyeing Sunjata warily. It seemed that he was not a madman, for he spat on the ground and turned to leave, muttering something about 'keeping all the good ones for yourself.'
Soh waited in silence, tension still evident in every line of her body, until the man made it all the way out the door. Then she gulped, not quite able to meet Sunjata's eyes. "Thank you," she whispered to the floor, mortified and ashamed (of what, she couldn't quite say).
When Sunjata appeared seemingly out of thin air, Soh nearly melted with relief. That is, until she saw the horns and the wings that sprouted from his head and back, respectively. Then she paled, surprised and awed by the display (and perhaps a little nervous). But when Sunjata's wing curled protectively around her, she suddenly felt safe. Surely only a madman would attempt to force their way through the draconic form Sunjata now wore, and thankfully, he seemed keen to help her. She took the moment of tension between the two men to calm herself; she swallowed hard and smoothed her skirts, glaring at the stranger with much more animosity than she'd been able to muster moments before (or ever, in fact). Meanwhile, the other man cursed, eyeing Sunjata warily. It seemed that he was not a madman, for he spat on the ground and turned to leave, muttering something about 'keeping all the good ones for yourself.'
Soh waited in silence, tension still evident in every line of her body, until the man made it all the way out the door. Then she gulped, not quite able to meet Sunjata's eyes. "Thank you," she whispered to the floor, mortified and ashamed (of what, she couldn't quite say).
I've been waiting for your touch to bring me home
