Maea
Blood on my shirt, rose in my hand
Meeting that honest gaze, she found herself saved yet again by this man. Was that the core of it? That he kept coming to her rescue, despite being unasked? First he saved her from her solitude, then he saved her life, now he was saving her from difficult conversations she wasn't ready to have. Over and over again, in small, almost insignificant ways, Liam kept showing up and that she had nothing to offer in return left her so deep in debt that she felt like drowning. If asked how she might compensate, he'd probably wave that off too, claiming she didn't owe anything. But that kind of unequal relation where one only gave and the other only received... Maea didn't think she could stand it for very long.
Turning back to the peoplewatching, his question was a good one, and she had no answer. None that were good, leastways.
"Well... I can sleep in a shift or other," she replied slowly, all dry practicality. "Done that before, it won't kill me. Should be safe enough in a tree. Until night falls... I'll do some searching around the village, get some dinner, maybe visit the Undercroft. Tomorrow... is a problem for tomorrow."
Not a good longterm solution by any means, but at least it sounded like a plan, like she was thinking of solutions, like she wasn't so tired that her brain seemed to be in fire. It might save her from more offers of aid she'd had to decline. Maea was running out of excuses, and running low on desire to protect herself - and him - from poor decisions.
Turning back to the peoplewatching, his question was a good one, and she had no answer. None that were good, leastways.
"Well... I can sleep in a shift or other," she replied slowly, all dry practicality. "Done that before, it won't kill me. Should be safe enough in a tree. Until night falls... I'll do some searching around the village, get some dinner, maybe visit the Undercroft. Tomorrow... is a problem for tomorrow."
Not a good longterm solution by any means, but at least it sounded like a plan, like she was thinking of solutions, like she wasn't so tired that her brain seemed to be in fire. It might save her from more offers of aid she'd had to decline. Maea was running out of excuses, and running low on desire to protect herself - and him - from poor decisions.
You're looking at me like you don't know who I am
