flora
Flora nods with the sage weariness of someone who has seen far too much mud for one lifetime as Spice prepared herself for what's clearly going to be a heroic dive-bomb straight at one of Remi’s tentacles. "Spicccceeee," Flora hisses, scooping an arm reflexively to intercept her, but the interruption comes first in the form of the injured boy.
Flora watches Ronin kneel, his voice soft, his magic rippling into the air in a way that makes something old and tender tighten in her chest. It casts her back—just briefly—to the memory of her younger self stumbling on a step on her way to Safrin's lighthouse, ankle screaming, tears in her eyes and Ronin at her side. The ache is bittersweet. A small, melancholy smile curves her lips as the boy’s expression shifts from fear to relieved disbelief.
The healing breeze gathers, warm and bright, and the boy’s breath catches as the pain slips away. His arm straightens instinctively, blood drying, skin knitting smooth in a shimmer of Ronin’s magic. He stares at it wide-eyed, then lets out a delighted gasp before launching himself forward to wrap both arms around the Knight’s neck in a fierce, grateful hug. "Thank you!" he blurts, voice bright and trembling. Pulling back just enough to peer past Ronin’s shoulder, he squints at the fountain and the supplies scattered around it. "Are you cleaning it like when I have to scrub out the bathtub at home?" he asks, equal parts horror and curiosity.
Flora chuckles before turning back toward Remi. "Go ahead and dump the salt in, I think this all looks good," she tells him, chin lifting toward the jar Isla and Melita had worked so hard to fill. "We can add the citrus once Ronin’s finished."
Round 3
Lets pour the salt in!
Flora watches Ronin kneel, his voice soft, his magic rippling into the air in a way that makes something old and tender tighten in her chest. It casts her back—just briefly—to the memory of her younger self stumbling on a step on her way to Safrin's lighthouse, ankle screaming, tears in her eyes and Ronin at her side. The ache is bittersweet. A small, melancholy smile curves her lips as the boy’s expression shifts from fear to relieved disbelief.
The healing breeze gathers, warm and bright, and the boy’s breath catches as the pain slips away. His arm straightens instinctively, blood drying, skin knitting smooth in a shimmer of Ronin’s magic. He stares at it wide-eyed, then lets out a delighted gasp before launching himself forward to wrap both arms around the Knight’s neck in a fierce, grateful hug. "Thank you!" he blurts, voice bright and trembling. Pulling back just enough to peer past Ronin’s shoulder, he squints at the fountain and the supplies scattered around it. "Are you cleaning it like when I have to scrub out the bathtub at home?" he asks, equal parts horror and curiosity.
Flora chuckles before turning back toward Remi. "Go ahead and dump the salt in, I think this all looks good," she tells him, chin lifting toward the jar Isla and Melita had worked so hard to fill. "We can add the citrus once Ronin’s finished."
Round 3
Lets pour the salt in!
I hold my breath just a little bit longer
halfway out the door but it won't close
halfway out the door but it won't close
