Maea
And I hope that you don't suffer
But take the pain
But take the pain
Rattled enough for her composure to have slipped, the sudden compliment on her name actually made the ancient blush, confused and awkward when faced with a sentiment she didn't know what to do with. She'd never known how to accept compliments. Should she be saying thank you? Agreeing seemed conceited while disagreeing was ungrateful, and was she supposed to be happy or unbothered about the sentiment of someone she had just met? Flustered was all she could manage, in the end, betrayed by expressive lips that couldn't settle on a smile nor maintain that previous mask of calm.
Leaping on the chance to talk about something else, she didn't care if the question of her age was insensitive. "No, not an old one," she replied, words tumbling over one another in her haste to explain. "I'm... gods, how old am I – uh, thirty...one? Yes, that sounds right. I don't look like it, right? There are... reasons." Rubbing a smooth cheek with the backside of her hand, Maea knew her features remained frozen in a previous decade. A death mask time had yet to catch up with, deceptively youthful ‐ she couldn't blame anyone who mistook her for a kid. Especially not given how often she acted like one.
At a loss for what to do when she couldn't offer Theea anything, Maea slowly tucked away the box with the rose inside her coat. With it pressed against her heart, she felt calmer yet intensely aware of its presence; so vibrantly alive that every whisper of air against skin and every crunch of leaf beneath her feet felt personal. "I'll try. Paying it forward... Not sure how, but... I'll do my best." Her hand slipped from the chin to the back of her neck, rubbing it in a gesture picked up from a certain soldier she'd spent so much time with. "Do you... live in the Greatwood?"
Leaping on the chance to talk about something else, she didn't care if the question of her age was insensitive. "No, not an old one," she replied, words tumbling over one another in her haste to explain. "I'm... gods, how old am I – uh, thirty...one? Yes, that sounds right. I don't look like it, right? There are... reasons." Rubbing a smooth cheek with the backside of her hand, Maea knew her features remained frozen in a previous decade. A death mask time had yet to catch up with, deceptively youthful ‐ she couldn't blame anyone who mistook her for a kid. Especially not given how often she acted like one.
At a loss for what to do when she couldn't offer Theea anything, Maea slowly tucked away the box with the rose inside her coat. With it pressed against her heart, she felt calmer yet intensely aware of its presence; so vibrantly alive that every whisper of air against skin and every crunch of leaf beneath her feet felt personal. "I'll try. Paying it forward... Not sure how, but... I'll do my best." Her hand slipped from the chin to the back of her neck, rubbing it in a gesture picked up from a certain soldier she'd spent so much time with. "Do you... live in the Greatwood?"
Hope if everybody runs
You choose to stay
You choose to stay
