Don't paint wonderful lies on me that wash away
"I could do that," Maea replied slowly, giving it a good deal of thought. Weighing the priorities, setting aside her craving for approval and validation that got in the way of seeing her opponent (that's you, Danta) more clearly and finding what she could and could not bend on without starting to feel icky or angry... "Wouldn't want to give up without trying, at least. I promised myself I wouldn't do that anymore."
It smelled like resolution, like a plan, and something shifted within her that let Maea stretch her arms up high over her head and let out a deep, heartfelt sigh. Tension bled from her with a jaw-cracking yawn; when she looked back at Charlie there was a new light over her expression, and the mercurial little smile lingered more comfortably.
"You're good at this," she complimented the priestess. "Thank you for listening, and talking it out with me. It really helps."
It smelled like resolution, like a plan, and something shifted within her that let Maea stretch her arms up high over her head and let out a deep, heartfelt sigh. Tension bled from her with a jaw-cracking yawn; when she looked back at Charlie there was a new light over her expression, and the mercurial little smile lingered more comfortably.
"You're good at this," she complimented the priestess. "Thank you for listening, and talking it out with me. It really helps."
