I can't relate to d e s p e r a t i o n
Charlie huffs a pout, her lips red and petulant in a way that’s more playful than sincere. "That’s such a shame," she sighs dramatically, shaking her head. "Back in my day, dragons were everywhere. You couldn’t swing a tail without hitting one." The complaint melts quickly into a grin; sharp and amused, all white fangs and mischief. "No sweat about Spice, though. The trick with dragons is bribery. Bring meat, gold, or something shiny, and they’ll usually love you for it."
When Kaisel insists Frey doesn’t do weird sex quests only to immediately mention blow jobs, Charlie stops mid-step, mouth parting into a slow, incredulous look that could’ve come straight from an episode of The Office. She blinks once. Twice. “"Uh-huh," she says dryly, fighting a smirk. "Not sexual at all." Still, she waves it off with a flick of her tail, curls bouncing as she moves. "Anyway, Dygra’s a lot more powerful than the heralds. If you’re gonna quest from anyone, might as well go straight to the top."
The moment he mentions bagpipes, though, her laughter bursts out bright and delighted. "Perfect chime–bag combo!" she crows, fluttering her fingers in the air to mimic windchimes, the invisible tinkling somehow audible in her tone.
Charlie listens with her usual mix of warmth and teasing skepticism when he starts waxing poetic about Flora. "HMMMMMMMM," she hums loudly, narrowing her eyes in mock suspicion. "She sounds lovely, really," Charlie teases, the corners of her lips twitching. "All the more reason to bring her to the festival! I’ll even do something special, just for her!" She nods at his I’ll ask her with exaggerated seriousness, though her eyes are bright with mischief.
When the talk shifts toward Dygray's philosophies, her expression softens, the fire of her grin turning contemplative. "Eww," she says, nose wrinkling as if the idea of planning physically offends her. "I’ve always thought it’s better to work on you, right now, so you can handle whatever comes. Plans change. People change. But if you just are your best self, you’re golden no matter what happens." Her tail flicks idly, a lazy punctuation to her thought. "Besides," she adds with a shrug and a smile, "we could all die literally any time. What’s the point in wasting all your effort planning for days you might never get, and not enjoying the ones you’ve got?"
When he stops to show her the bag, Charlie ooohs and aaahs appropriately, circling it with clear delight as though it’s a rare gem. "Oh, it’s beautiful!" she declares, reaching out to trace the shell-like curve of the flap with a reverent fingertip. "The colours are perfect!" Tilting her head, she taps one nail lightly against the gold chain. "Is there a size requirement for holding wind?" she asks curiously. "Because if not, this is perfect. She could totally use it out and about." Her grin turns sly as she glances back at him. "And you could add a little charm here—" she taps the chain again, "—something personal. Then she’ll know it’s from you."
When Kaisel insists Frey doesn’t do weird sex quests only to immediately mention blow jobs, Charlie stops mid-step, mouth parting into a slow, incredulous look that could’ve come straight from an episode of The Office. She blinks once. Twice. “"Uh-huh," she says dryly, fighting a smirk. "Not sexual at all." Still, she waves it off with a flick of her tail, curls bouncing as she moves. "Anyway, Dygra’s a lot more powerful than the heralds. If you’re gonna quest from anyone, might as well go straight to the top."
The moment he mentions bagpipes, though, her laughter bursts out bright and delighted. "Perfect chime–bag combo!" she crows, fluttering her fingers in the air to mimic windchimes, the invisible tinkling somehow audible in her tone.
Charlie listens with her usual mix of warmth and teasing skepticism when he starts waxing poetic about Flora. "HMMMMMMMM," she hums loudly, narrowing her eyes in mock suspicion. "She sounds lovely, really," Charlie teases, the corners of her lips twitching. "All the more reason to bring her to the festival! I’ll even do something special, just for her!" She nods at his I’ll ask her with exaggerated seriousness, though her eyes are bright with mischief.
When the talk shifts toward Dygray's philosophies, her expression softens, the fire of her grin turning contemplative. "Eww," she says, nose wrinkling as if the idea of planning physically offends her. "I’ve always thought it’s better to work on you, right now, so you can handle whatever comes. Plans change. People change. But if you just are your best self, you’re golden no matter what happens." Her tail flicks idly, a lazy punctuation to her thought. "Besides," she adds with a shrug and a smile, "we could all die literally any time. What’s the point in wasting all your effort planning for days you might never get, and not enjoying the ones you’ve got?"
When he stops to show her the bag, Charlie ooohs and aaahs appropriately, circling it with clear delight as though it’s a rare gem. "Oh, it’s beautiful!" she declares, reaching out to trace the shell-like curve of the flap with a reverent fingertip. "The colours are perfect!" Tilting her head, she taps one nail lightly against the gold chain. "Is there a size requirement for holding wind?" she asks curiously. "Because if not, this is perfect. She could totally use it out and about." Her grin turns sly as she glances back at him. "And you could add a little charm here—" she taps the chain again, "—something personal. Then she’ll know it’s from you."
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Hella golden retriever energy. Small unrefined horns made of ruby. Regular spade-shaped tail.
