it's fine to fake it 'till you make it
A rush of seafoam begins to solidify as it washes upon the shoreline. Bits of bioluminescent plankton meld together until constellations appear beneath the waves. In turn, those constellations rush toward the white foam, already beginning to look more and more like lace, until finally the darkness of the sky form Safrin's loose curls and the goddess becomes corporeal.
"My, my." She cooes fondly, gazing from Harper to Hadama and all the things brought between them. "What a treat." Safrin's smile is wide and appreciative as she accepts the bracelet, comb, and flower. Eyeing the bottle of wine, the deity tilts her head to the side in a gesture that's both playful and questioning. With a wave of her hand, three glasses appear near to Harper, that he might pour them each a glass of the imported wine.
"My, my." She cooes fondly, gazing from Harper to Hadama and all the things brought between them. "What a treat." Safrin's smile is wide and appreciative as she accepts the bracelet, comb, and flower. Eyeing the bottle of wine, the deity tilts her head to the side in a gesture that's both playful and questioning. With a wave of her hand, three glasses appear near to Harper, that he might pour them each a glass of the imported wine.
'till you do. 'till it's true.
