// think of the sun that shaped them //
When he didn’t press for any information on losses, she didn’t either, keeping that out of touch and frame for the present. Other semblances maintained her focus, like the way they meandered around teasing, trifling with distances, advances not quite crossing lines. She half-wondered if Koa had been wrong, or worse, truly leading her down a path of denial, but she doubted the other Dragoon would be so cruel. So while he collected scales, her eyes went to the stream, the bark, not focusing on anything in particular, save for the spinning boundaries cycling through her head.
Lena had always been the careful one. Quiet, but self-assured. Meticulous. Heedful, wary, attentive, conscientious. Not a day went by where her thorough observations weren’t needed within the Celestine, or other healing measures. If anything, she was risk adverse; never longing to be the hero, the bravest, the courageous and audacious. Resolute and determined, but to a point – and now she felt the whole bit of her stalwart entity skimming over the dauntless grass and the guarded plains. If she was wrong, there could be a lot to lose. Koa had already warned her, after all, but no one said anything about her own heart.
But maybe it was worth the precariousness; and there was so much more to possibly be gained in the silliness and madness. Perhaps she should’ve been questioning her nerves over the whole situation, trying desperately not to fidget with her fingers. She clasped them strongly against the log instead, leaning from her sitting position to stare at him, daring herself. “I might know someone,” she ventured, taking a breath before the plunge, a broad grin, a blush threatening over her cheeks through the impending boldness. “But you’d have to take me to dinner first.”
And then there were other distractions, and she’d let all those words sink in while she rummaged through her bag, striving to put on a valiant exterior in case he said no. On shaky fingers, that she hoped he didn’t notice, she found some paper and charcoal; suddenly very glad Sol and Mittens decided to interact and give her a moment to breathe. “Of course!” came out far less brave, and then she began sketching lightly, watching the dragon to catch better definition and lines. If the snowball noticed its bonded’s distress and nerves, it didn’t show it – screeching and tagging at the other companion instead.
Lena had always been the careful one. Quiet, but self-assured. Meticulous. Heedful, wary, attentive, conscientious. Not a day went by where her thorough observations weren’t needed within the Celestine, or other healing measures. If anything, she was risk adverse; never longing to be the hero, the bravest, the courageous and audacious. Resolute and determined, but to a point – and now she felt the whole bit of her stalwart entity skimming over the dauntless grass and the guarded plains. If she was wrong, there could be a lot to lose. Koa had already warned her, after all, but no one said anything about her own heart.
But maybe it was worth the precariousness; and there was so much more to possibly be gained in the silliness and madness. Perhaps she should’ve been questioning her nerves over the whole situation, trying desperately not to fidget with her fingers. She clasped them strongly against the log instead, leaning from her sitting position to stare at him, daring herself. “I might know someone,” she ventured, taking a breath before the plunge, a broad grin, a blush threatening over her cheeks through the impending boldness. “But you’d have to take me to dinner first.”
And then there were other distractions, and she’d let all those words sink in while she rummaged through her bag, striving to put on a valiant exterior in case he said no. On shaky fingers, that she hoped he didn’t notice, she found some paper and charcoal; suddenly very glad Sol and Mittens decided to interact and give her a moment to breathe. “Of course!” came out far less brave, and then she began sketching lightly, watching the dragon to catch better definition and lines. If the snowball noticed its bonded’s distress and nerves, it didn’t show it – screeching and tagging at the other companion instead.
Lena
// the speck of truth that's ours //
