so much of our lives is just carving through the dark
"I most certainly have." Isla smirks, lifting her glass in a faux-toast and taking another sip from it. "And in fairness, there's a difference between bossing around and threats of certain death from whatever Dahlia actually is, right?" She grimaces a bit, because she'd have shown up to a ball wearing nothing but flip flops if Dahlia had been the one in command of Torchline, and had decided as much. "But he's been acting more outgoing anyway, right? It isn't a bad thing, surely, to learn how to read a social situation."
Equally as glad to have Sunjata not take up quite such a large space in her chest, Isla would even go as far as to call them friends again, and good ones at that. Not that they see each other that often any more, but again... that might not be a bad thing, if this uneasy peace is to be maintained. "Gods, Hadama as well? What was he thinking?" Shaking her head, she gestures for them to go for a stroll about the room if they're going to keep gossiping. Maybe they'll even eavesdrop on some other good conversations at the same time.
Equally as glad to have Sunjata not take up quite such a large space in her chest, Isla would even go as far as to call them friends again, and good ones at that. Not that they see each other that often any more, but again... that might not be a bad thing, if this uneasy peace is to be maintained. "Gods, Hadama as well? What was he thinking?" Shaking her head, she gestures for them to go for a stroll about the room if they're going to keep gossiping. Maybe they'll even eavesdrop on some other good conversations at the same time.
