Loathe the way they light candles in Rome,
But love the sweet air of the votives
But love the sweet air of the votives
"Yes, my lady." Like a vespertine flower Koa blooms, bolstered by the strength of Safrin's expectation more than any comforting words, any platitudes or empty reassurance she might have offered instead. A soldier through and through, the young man does best beneath the banner of a cause. It's something he's been missing sorely, the reason he's been so adrift.
But for her? For his goddess Koa can again find his center. He will. He must.
The low spoken promise of a way to strike back sends a shiver of anticipation dancing down the young man's spine. A clenched fist thumps against his chest; he bows down, reverent and obedient, the impassioned, resolute soldier he had nearly forgotten he could be. "I will fight in your name, Lady Safrin; nothing could possibly honor me more." He keeps his head bowed as she finishes her inspection, only glancing back toward the goddess when she speaks again.
The flash of white teeth shines against bronze skin; Koa's mouth curves in a boyish, eager smile, almost as bright as the ones he had offered back when his world was small and safe. "I won't forget again," he promises fiercely - and then, in an outburst of brazen ardor, he reaches for her hand, pressing the barest, most reverent kiss upon her sacred fingers. "Thank you, Safrin, for being my anchor. If there is anything else I can do for you, Lady - anything else I should know, to better face our enemies - then I am yours to command."
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Using my Critical plot information prize to get some of that tasty lore.
But for her? For his goddess Koa can again find his center. He will. He must.
The low spoken promise of a way to strike back sends a shiver of anticipation dancing down the young man's spine. A clenched fist thumps against his chest; he bows down, reverent and obedient, the impassioned, resolute soldier he had nearly forgotten he could be. "I will fight in your name, Lady Safrin; nothing could possibly honor me more." He keeps his head bowed as she finishes her inspection, only glancing back toward the goddess when she speaks again.
The flash of white teeth shines against bronze skin; Koa's mouth curves in a boyish, eager smile, almost as bright as the ones he had offered back when his world was small and safe. "I won't forget again," he promises fiercely - and then, in an outburst of brazen ardor, he reaches for her hand, pressing the barest, most reverent kiss upon her sacred fingers. "Thank you, Safrin, for being my anchor. If there is anything else I can do for you, Lady - anything else I should know, to better face our enemies - then I am yours to command."
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Using my Critical plot information prize to get some of that tasty lore.
Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone;
Engage with the pain as a motive
Engage with the pain as a motive
