SOLEIL
the light of dawn is coming
Hackles sufficiently smoothed as Hadama defends the man's lack of attention, Soleil's slim shoulders relax in deference to the lack of fur she has still yet to grow accustomed to. Instead, she takes the opportunity to marvel at his webbed fingers and the way they feel against her own soft hands. While she has never minded dirtying her hands, Halovian mittens kept the skin protected from most injuries and nearly all weather, so the contrast between the webbing and callouses on his own is deeply intriguing to her.
His returned compliment draws her attention back, rewarded with a smile as bright as her namesake. "Thank you. Are brown-skinned people more common here? There are not many in Halo." Eyeing his hair with some small measure of envy (not only is the color beautiful, but she can imagine it is built to withstand salt and water - unlike her own) she pulls her hand back and remains in her crouched pose. Hadama is tall enough to nearly make it unnecessary, but she is not short for a young woman, and the sentiment is worth it to her. "Which I find strange, because they burn easily." Visually she has seen a far more diverse population in Torchline, but he is clearly a native with more information to share.
Peering at the shells he produces from beneath the surface, Soleil takes them with nearly reverently careful hands so that she doesn't risk dropping them. Straightening, Soleil's amber eyes sparkle with delight at the chance to secure one of them for herself. "I will do my best!" she assures with far too much heart and immediately goes striding off towards the seller like a steam train, unstoppable. Hadama will not be privy to her bartering, but it involves a rather strange combination of iron will and soft, pleading eyes - it's effective, clearly, as she returns with a shell in one hand and the candle in the other, expression triumphant. Gracefully sitting cross-legged without the use of her hands, saltwater tickling her thighs, Soleil extends the candle to him. "Thank you for the shell. How do you cook it?" All the food she'd been given as a child in the care of the Halenani had been prepared out of sight, and Halo has at best deep sea fish in their markets given the cold waters there.
His returned compliment draws her attention back, rewarded with a smile as bright as her namesake. "Thank you. Are brown-skinned people more common here? There are not many in Halo." Eyeing his hair with some small measure of envy (not only is the color beautiful, but she can imagine it is built to withstand salt and water - unlike her own) she pulls her hand back and remains in her crouched pose. Hadama is tall enough to nearly make it unnecessary, but she is not short for a young woman, and the sentiment is worth it to her. "Which I find strange, because they burn easily." Visually she has seen a far more diverse population in Torchline, but he is clearly a native with more information to share.
Peering at the shells he produces from beneath the surface, Soleil takes them with nearly reverently careful hands so that she doesn't risk dropping them. Straightening, Soleil's amber eyes sparkle with delight at the chance to secure one of them for herself. "I will do my best!" she assures with far too much heart and immediately goes striding off towards the seller like a steam train, unstoppable. Hadama will not be privy to her bartering, but it involves a rather strange combination of iron will and soft, pleading eyes - it's effective, clearly, as she returns with a shell in one hand and the candle in the other, expression triumphant. Gracefully sitting cross-legged without the use of her hands, saltwater tickling her thighs, Soleil extends the candle to him. "Thank you for the shell. How do you cook it?" All the food she'd been given as a child in the care of the Halenani had been prepared out of sight, and Halo has at best deep sea fish in their markets given the cold waters there.
ready to return everything the darkness stole
