Aithne
I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed
Aithne's dark gaze follows the lick of flame as it spirits through the air, reflecting in the various crystals surrounding them, something hungry in her eyes as though counting down the days until she, too, can wield fire. They continue through the cavern, Aithne's eyes darting this way and that, reveling in the chaotic beauty of the gemstones. One in particular catches her eye: it runs floor to ceiling, and it so clear that it might be glass if not for the shards of color embedded deep within.
She draws to a slow stop - more of a pause than a true halt - as she admires, listening to Charlie as she shares more about the goddess that Aithne now calls her patroness. "That makes sense - I think," she says, cutting a sidelong glance at Charlie. "You seem to know a great deal about her." Are all Ancients that way? Aithne can't help but feel as though she has some catching up to do.
She draws to a slow stop - more of a pause than a true halt - as she admires, listening to Charlie as she shares more about the goddess that Aithne now calls her patroness. "That makes sense - I think," she says, cutting a sidelong glance at Charlie. "You seem to know a great deal about her." Are all Ancients that way? Aithne can't help but feel as though she has some catching up to do.
We never had a shotgun shot in the dark
