// think of the sun that shaped them //
But neither of them were Koa – and while he might’ve had all the valor and resolve in the world to voice every thought and every whim – not everyone was like that. Lena was subdued and kind and generous, and often put others so far in front of her own efforts and needs that sometimes hers were forgotten entirely.
And while she had no vitriol, she certainly had enough insecurities now to wonder if voicing anything was going to make things worse. If she wasn’t good enough, and even in these hints, perhaps there was an undercurrent of dismissal of her own character. Or if Koa’s projections were just rooted in other sentiments too fresh or too scarred. “Not sure if that is helping,” she admitted, pausing and trying to catch herself before she unfurled any further, fingers beginning to intertwine around the cloth. Only mere minutes ago she’d been told Zavien cared for her, and now she was being lectured on reactions she’d yet to give. “I’m sorry for what happened between you and Sohalia.” She hadn’t known, but now wondered if that clambered back to Anju’s insinuations seasons before. Her own defensiveness flared, eyes downcast again, voice calm and measured. “But we’re not the same people either. So, while I understand the warning, that is not my intention.” Perhaps that was all that could be uttered for now – her mind rattled, tossed between saying something and not maiming the situation and feeling damned if she did or didn’t.
Maybe none of it mattered for the moment – not when Koa was suddenly dropping to his knees and taking her hand and wanting her to snag a position in a guild renowned for warriors and protection. “What-,” she stammered at first, the herbs forgotten in the reel of constant emotional whiplash. “I’m flattered, truly, but what would I do in the Dragoons?” She half-laughed, caught along the bizarre intervals, especially of things he knew about her. “I’m not a fighter.” She could barely hold her healing staff in any defensive position, and readily found other solutions for incoming strife.
And while she had no vitriol, she certainly had enough insecurities now to wonder if voicing anything was going to make things worse. If she wasn’t good enough, and even in these hints, perhaps there was an undercurrent of dismissal of her own character. Or if Koa’s projections were just rooted in other sentiments too fresh or too scarred. “Not sure if that is helping,” she admitted, pausing and trying to catch herself before she unfurled any further, fingers beginning to intertwine around the cloth. Only mere minutes ago she’d been told Zavien cared for her, and now she was being lectured on reactions she’d yet to give. “I’m sorry for what happened between you and Sohalia.” She hadn’t known, but now wondered if that clambered back to Anju’s insinuations seasons before. Her own defensiveness flared, eyes downcast again, voice calm and measured. “But we’re not the same people either. So, while I understand the warning, that is not my intention.” Perhaps that was all that could be uttered for now – her mind rattled, tossed between saying something and not maiming the situation and feeling damned if she did or didn’t.
Maybe none of it mattered for the moment – not when Koa was suddenly dropping to his knees and taking her hand and wanting her to snag a position in a guild renowned for warriors and protection. “What-,” she stammered at first, the herbs forgotten in the reel of constant emotional whiplash. “I’m flattered, truly, but what would I do in the Dragoons?” She half-laughed, caught along the bizarre intervals, especially of things he knew about her. “I’m not a fighter.” She could barely hold her healing staff in any defensive position, and readily found other solutions for incoming strife.
Lena
// the speck of truth that's ours //
