For her the cool-tongued, her the tranquil-hearted,
Whom evermore I follow wistfully
Whom evermore I follow wistfully
Anju is an impressively unflappable woman, but for just one moment something like crushing relief breaks her smooth expression, and her breath trembles quietly on the exhale. Koa. Alive. Alive and still the charming fool she’s always known him to be. It takes every fiber of restraint in her body and the additional help of blunt pain on her palms from her own nails to keep herself rooted to the training floor instead of shoving past Zavien to find Koa and confirm his safety with her own eyes. She’s never sure who is watching these days; any overt interest or weakness is a dagger to her throat.
“He is one of our best, so his welcome holds weight.” Is, not was. No matter how long his absence or how far he has strayed, he will always be a Dragoon. It is deeply unfair for her mind to be so utterly elsewhere with Zavien nervous and eager before her, but at least it’s not readily apparent.
Pleased he’s come prepared, Anju intentionally does not comfort him. The spar is not meant to be won, but if she tells him anything more he simply won’t naturally display the things she needs to see. With a tilt of her head Riya goes bounding off to retrieve a training sword; the one on the Captain’s hip is far too sharp when she is uncertain of Zavien’s skill level. Taking it upon her sister’s return, she spins it neatly to familiarize herself with the weight and balance before readying herself in a practiced stance. “You may have first strike.” And all the extra time to consider his approach if he needs it.
“He is one of our best, so his welcome holds weight.” Is, not was. No matter how long his absence or how far he has strayed, he will always be a Dragoon. It is deeply unfair for her mind to be so utterly elsewhere with Zavien nervous and eager before her, but at least it’s not readily apparent.
Pleased he’s come prepared, Anju intentionally does not comfort him. The spar is not meant to be won, but if she tells him anything more he simply won’t naturally display the things she needs to see. With a tilt of her head Riya goes bounding off to retrieve a training sword; the one on the Captain’s hip is far too sharp when she is uncertain of Zavien’s skill level. Taking it upon her sister’s return, she spins it neatly to familiarize herself with the weight and balance before readying herself in a practiced stance. “You may have first strike.” And all the extra time to consider his approach if he needs it.
through waters yet uncharted
ANJU
