Dance with the waves, move with the sea,
The hop of the frog is a welcome distraction that draws her gaze in the silent interim, yet it doesn't soften the impact of his words when they come. Asta had briefly mentioned his violent history with Danta, but she's never seen signs of their past, and hearing that she'd reminded them of it only brings her guilt higher. She takes the offered seat, seeming to shrink in the process, cradling the drink in her hands. Her eyes follow the swirling of the amber liquid in the glass, her expression pinching. "I didn't think about what memories that may stir." Finally, like a breath that she's been trying to hold, that's forcefully pulled from her lips, Thal says a quiet, "I'm sorry." It isn't any less powerful for its volume, weighing heavily in the air between them like the charged atmosphere after a rare storm, one that might never appear again. It's something precious and delicate despite the gravity of the intent, something that she tried not to linger on.
When he offers forth his glass, Thal straightens her shoulders, infusing them with the comfort that came with their shared agreeance of a budding friendship - even if she still needs to work on combining it with the connection she has with Asta. Dipping her head, her dark hair parts around the base of her horns as she does something almost as shocking as apologizing: she takes the criticism. Don't let it be said she's not trying.
However, she doesn't take it too seriously, reaching forward to meet him halfway. "I understand. I'll make sure to include you in my sarcasm next time." There's a small hint of a smile there, a glimmer of relief in her eyes as the glasses clink softly against each other, but her words are genuine, the promise feeling as solid on her pinky as the glass resting there, as sweet as the alcohol that coats her tongue.
Letting the playfulness sooth the discomfort of the last few minutes, Thal shrugs her shoulders. "It took more than one try." In a cross of her legs, she situates herself more comfortably in the chair to deliver the next bit of news. "By the way, I may have pissed Kia off in the process." She takes a pointed sip, avoiding Danta's gaze like if she doesn't see him it won't register. But in her moment of 'good intentions' and 'friendships,' she doesn't let the moment hang too long, lowering the glass to look at him again, a smile slightly too sharp to be called 'sheepish' on her face as as adds, "But I'll fix it."
When he offers forth his glass, Thal straightens her shoulders, infusing them with the comfort that came with their shared agreeance of a budding friendship - even if she still needs to work on combining it with the connection she has with Asta. Dipping her head, her dark hair parts around the base of her horns as she does something almost as shocking as apologizing: she takes the criticism. Don't let it be said she's not trying.
However, she doesn't take it too seriously, reaching forward to meet him halfway. "I understand. I'll make sure to include you in my sarcasm next time." There's a small hint of a smile there, a glimmer of relief in her eyes as the glasses clink softly against each other, but her words are genuine, the promise feeling as solid on her pinky as the glass resting there, as sweet as the alcohol that coats her tongue.
Letting the playfulness sooth the discomfort of the last few minutes, Thal shrugs her shoulders. "It took more than one try." In a cross of her legs, she situates herself more comfortably in the chair to deliver the next bit of news. "By the way, I may have pissed Kia off in the process." She takes a pointed sip, avoiding Danta's gaze like if she doesn't see him it won't register. But in her moment of 'good intentions' and 'friendships,' she doesn't let the moment hang too long, lowering the glass to look at him again, a smile slightly too sharp to be called 'sheepish' on her face as as adds, "But I'll fix it."
Thalassa
let the rhythm of the water set your soul free.
