Elizabeth
Elizabeth lets out a soft laugh, turning her warm eyes to Theea as she walks. "Well, I know you're going to find family and all, but he retired in Torchline with my mom - if you ever wanted to visit him. I'm sure he'd love to have a reason to dig up old stories." Although she might find it hard to leave afterwards, too entranced by his soft baritone voice and far-away worlds.
A silence takes her as Theea speaks of her family, of the tender moments shared and the tale woven to help her feel safe. It's enough to make Elizabeth smile, gentle with a tinge of sadness for the childhood cut short and loved ones lost - knowing that she must still grieve the loss of her mother even if she still lives. So Elizabeth doesn't say anything, letting the tale carry the young woman through her emotions.
It's not until the subtle swell of a lull emerges that she finally speaks again, an appreciative gleam heating her smile. "That's a beautiful story." And when Theea mentions writing it down, Elizabeth nods encouragingly. "You should. I'm sure others would love to hear it, and I can always help if you need." Considering she spends most of her time reading, writing, or talking, it wouldn't be unusual for her.
Glancing down the street, she spots the wooden sign of the inn swinging slowly in the breeze. Elizabeth gestures with her hand. "The inn's just up ahead."
A silence takes her as Theea speaks of her family, of the tender moments shared and the tale woven to help her feel safe. It's enough to make Elizabeth smile, gentle with a tinge of sadness for the childhood cut short and loved ones lost - knowing that she must still grieve the loss of her mother even if she still lives. So Elizabeth doesn't say anything, letting the tale carry the young woman through her emotions.
It's not until the subtle swell of a lull emerges that she finally speaks again, an appreciative gleam heating her smile. "That's a beautiful story." And when Theea mentions writing it down, Elizabeth nods encouragingly. "You should. I'm sure others would love to hear it, and I can always help if you need." Considering she spends most of her time reading, writing, or talking, it wouldn't be unusual for her.
Glancing down the street, she spots the wooden sign of the inn swinging slowly in the breeze. Elizabeth gestures with her hand. "The inn's just up ahead."
There is beauty in the journey, regardless of the outcome.
Let's grieve and hope and fight together.
Let's grieve and hope and fight together.
