Thalassa
I worry this is how I’m always gonna feel.
When Asta yields, she's looking down at him, hands still coiled around his horns and hips settled over his chest to 'pin' him. There's a playful smile on her lips, the laughter slowly subsiding with the rush of adrenaline. Through the dark curtain of her own wild hair, she registers the pinch of panic still on his face, reminding her of the other aspect for their training. She glances up to make sure all the crows have gone, sending a blast of fire to one that lingers like it might just stay. As it takes to the sky, she raises up on her knees, releasing her hold on his antlers. "They're gone." It's said like an observation, even as the tone holds a buried hint of reassurance.
Untangling herself from him, she stands, all graceful movements and easy elegance. As pointless as she thinks it will be, Thal offers him a smile and an extended hand to assist him. "That was pretty fun, although I think you were going easy on me." Very much an understatement that she hopes to rectify one day. Once he's on his feet, she gathers her daggers, sheathing them at her side as she watches Asta to make sure nothing lingers from the difficult experience.
Untangling herself from him, she stands, all graceful movements and easy elegance. As pointless as she thinks it will be, Thal offers him a smile and an extended hand to assist him. "That was pretty fun, although I think you were going easy on me." Very much an understatement that she hopes to rectify one day. Once he's on his feet, she gathers her daggers, sheathing them at her side as she watches Asta to make sure nothing lingers from the difficult experience.
But nothing lasts. I know the deal.
