// think of the sun that shaped them //
As the question rallied back at her, the Caretaker lifted her gaze back to him, trying to study his face to see if he was serious. She ended up snorting and shaking her head, before turning her attention back to the stalks, gingerly and gently picking another out of the ground. “No. The Festival of Lights are enough for me,” and even then, while it was supposed to be a happy, jovial time – opportunities to see their loved ones who’d entered Mort’s realm, it still brought enough heartache to swallow down. Because some, like her sister, shouldn’t have been gone in the first place.
Ducking down to grasp substantial amounts, she heard the snap of his fingers, and only raised her brows when he gave a somewhat earnest attempt at being furtive and secretive. It was both endearing and ridiculous, earning him another bout of warm laughter as she remained behind the greenery. “Truly, the very pinnacle of sneakiness.” Rising back to her full height, she had to wonder if sheer panic ensured they escaped from the banshee without being noticed, or if the silliness was just a contribution of ways to wage the apprehension away. “Maybe you should get yourself a stealth cloak next.” And while she meant it in jest, the notion and idea wasn’t a bad one.
Placing more in her basket, because thoughts of baking, poultices, perhaps planting in her own garden, and her quest had her snagging multitudes, she tilted her head at his inquiry. “I have noticed,” came with its own grin – though still compassionate, even if it was followed on a benevolent sigh. His protective nature was one of her favorite things about him, but she did wish he’d take better care of himself. Not by selfish endeavors, but perhaps more of a preservation. More than once, her mind on Hadama’s past actions, others had strived to take advantage of his charitable and altruistic intentions. “Perhaps you need a personal healer too.” Not thinking of the implications in that statement until they were out of her mouth, she blushed and then pretended to look for more plants. Maybe he’d think she meant of magical item means.
Though those endeavors gave her more of a distraction. “I think I have enough,” presently, she supposed, and now she knew other locations of where she might find them again. Her bag was filled to the brim, so she proceeded along the incline of the stream, settling upon a log while Mittens chewed on the ends of the bark. Carefully pressing the stalks down, she maneuvered them about while he gathered scales, considering the other ideas going back and forth. “That would look nice. I can help sketch one if you’d like.”
Ducking down to grasp substantial amounts, she heard the snap of his fingers, and only raised her brows when he gave a somewhat earnest attempt at being furtive and secretive. It was both endearing and ridiculous, earning him another bout of warm laughter as she remained behind the greenery. “Truly, the very pinnacle of sneakiness.” Rising back to her full height, she had to wonder if sheer panic ensured they escaped from the banshee without being noticed, or if the silliness was just a contribution of ways to wage the apprehension away. “Maybe you should get yourself a stealth cloak next.” And while she meant it in jest, the notion and idea wasn’t a bad one.
Placing more in her basket, because thoughts of baking, poultices, perhaps planting in her own garden, and her quest had her snagging multitudes, she tilted her head at his inquiry. “I have noticed,” came with its own grin – though still compassionate, even if it was followed on a benevolent sigh. His protective nature was one of her favorite things about him, but she did wish he’d take better care of himself. Not by selfish endeavors, but perhaps more of a preservation. More than once, her mind on Hadama’s past actions, others had strived to take advantage of his charitable and altruistic intentions. “Perhaps you need a personal healer too.” Not thinking of the implications in that statement until they were out of her mouth, she blushed and then pretended to look for more plants. Maybe he’d think she meant of magical item means.
Though those endeavors gave her more of a distraction. “I think I have enough,” presently, she supposed, and now she knew other locations of where she might find them again. Her bag was filled to the brim, so she proceeded along the incline of the stream, settling upon a log while Mittens chewed on the ends of the bark. Carefully pressing the stalks down, she maneuvered them about while he gathered scales, considering the other ideas going back and forth. “That would look nice. I can help sketch one if you’d like.”
Lena
// the speck of truth that's ours //
