Thalassa
Hands getting cold
Being one of the few people who gets to see the softer, kinder side of the Butcher, Thal knows that most people would (rightly) disagree with her statement, but that doesn't change what she sees. She doesn't feel like a preference for blood and violence makes someone a bad person - otherwise she might have to reassess her entire existence. No, how someone treats those they care about and stands up for them is something she's always valued, and Asta has proven to be the kind of friend that supports her in every facet of her emotions. It makes her all the more confident when she says, "She's an idiot, and that's her loss." Because - despite everything - Thal thinks they could have been friends if Maea had given it a chance. Instead, there will always be a divide between them, one that she'd had to straddle until now. Perhaps she should be grateful that she didn't have to walk on glass anymore, to tiptoe around the topic. Now she had closure, even if it didn't feel like it yet.
His returning tease makes her smile a little more, the worries slowly releasing their hold so they might come another day - when the threat becomes more solid and realistic. For now, she's content to let his reassurance perk her mood like the glow of firelight through the dark unknown. She dips her head in appreciation of the confidence as well as his concern for her. The words 'thank you' are almost on her tongue, but she knows that he understands without her needing to say it, and she finds comfort in not having to voice them.
With their postures relaxing, Thal pulls away just enough to stretch out her legs, trying not to laugh when they reach the top of his shins. She hasn't really slept since the fight - too busy traveling - and the taxing of emotional turmoil makes her more than a little exhausted, so much so that she doesn't immediately jump at the prospect of a party. Her head just tilts in consideration, taking in his attire with a grin. "Must be quite the party." Especially as he raises the muzzle to his mouth, her eyes scanning the accessory with ambivalence. He doesn't seem bothered by it, if anything, he seems to find it humorous, so she doesn't let it bother her.
Chuckling softly, she lifts a hand to tap against the metal cage. "It certainly makes an impression. Anyone stupid enough to act up tonight?" It's hard to believe when Asta's working, but she's curious, nonetheless. If he's out here, she wonders if his name alone will be enough to keep the troublemakers at bay.
His returning tease makes her smile a little more, the worries slowly releasing their hold so they might come another day - when the threat becomes more solid and realistic. For now, she's content to let his reassurance perk her mood like the glow of firelight through the dark unknown. She dips her head in appreciation of the confidence as well as his concern for her. The words 'thank you' are almost on her tongue, but she knows that he understands without her needing to say it, and she finds comfort in not having to voice them.
With their postures relaxing, Thal pulls away just enough to stretch out her legs, trying not to laugh when they reach the top of his shins. She hasn't really slept since the fight - too busy traveling - and the taxing of emotional turmoil makes her more than a little exhausted, so much so that she doesn't immediately jump at the prospect of a party. Her head just tilts in consideration, taking in his attire with a grin. "Must be quite the party." Especially as he raises the muzzle to his mouth, her eyes scanning the accessory with ambivalence. He doesn't seem bothered by it, if anything, he seems to find it humorous, so she doesn't let it bother her.
Chuckling softly, she lifts a hand to tap against the metal cage. "It certainly makes an impression. Anyone stupid enough to act up tonight?" It's hard to believe when Asta's working, but she's curious, nonetheless. If he's out here, she wonders if his name alone will be enough to keep the troublemakers at bay.
Losing feeling is getting old
Was I made from a broken mold?
Was I made from a broken mold?
