Isla
"You're too kind," Isla responds easily to the compliment, smiling softly and smoothing down her dress as Sunjata steps away, giving her the space to breathe and be and put her mask back on. Sinking down into her seat, she slips off her shoes and tucks her feet beneath her, reaching for the coffee to sip at it without needing to wait for it to cool. "Gods, that tastes better when it's cold outside," she admits with a smirk. "Not that Torchline hasn't had its share of hairy weather, lately."
How has she been, though? Gods, if only there was an answer that made sense, Isla shrugging her shoulders to the Flood. "Still a work in progress," she tells him with a soft laugh, though there's a light in her eyes that will, perhaps, take purchase some day and grow. "I'm sure you've heard plenty about Torchline with the whole leadership thing," she continues, not wanting to bore Sunjata with news he already knows.
"How about you, though? You're looking different."
How has she been, though? Gods, if only there was an answer that made sense, Isla shrugging her shoulders to the Flood. "Still a work in progress," she tells him with a soft laugh, though there's a light in her eyes that will, perhaps, take purchase some day and grow. "I'm sure you've heard plenty about Torchline with the whole leadership thing," she continues, not wanting to bore Sunjata with news he already knows.
"How about you, though? You're looking different."
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard
When you hit me, hit me hard
