flora
Spice is the first to notice him, her small white form swooping down from where she’d been wheeling above the mast. She trills brightly at the Tidebreaker, wings catching a gust as she arcs around his head once before settling on the rail to watch with curious eyes.
"Permission granted!" Flora’s voice carries easily over the water, warm and teasing. She’s on the deck of the Sugartide, tugging a coil of rope toward the hatch as if she’s been stowing things below in preparation for a flight, which in fact, she is. It won't be a long flight, but she's planning on berthing the Sugartide right by her new house rather than here at the docks.
Even in Deepfrost, Torchline’s air is balmy enough that she’s barefoot, her toes curled against the polished wood, but she’s dressed for the season in a loose-knit sweater and dark leggings, curls spilling wild around her shoulders. Flora waves at Hadama with one hand, bracelets clinking softly, a grin flashing across her face as the sun peeks through the clouds for just a moment. "Heya."
"Permission granted!" Flora’s voice carries easily over the water, warm and teasing. She’s on the deck of the Sugartide, tugging a coil of rope toward the hatch as if she’s been stowing things below in preparation for a flight, which in fact, she is. It won't be a long flight, but she's planning on berthing the Sugartide right by her new house rather than here at the docks.
Even in Deepfrost, Torchline’s air is balmy enough that she’s barefoot, her toes curled against the polished wood, but she’s dressed for the season in a loose-knit sweater and dark leggings, curls spilling wild around her shoulders. Flora waves at Hadama with one hand, bracelets clinking softly, a grin flashing across her face as the sun peeks through the clouds for just a moment. "Heya."
How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
