Contemplatin', beg your pardon
"'Hundreds of years'?" It's not quite disbelief, although the unspoken curiosities give depth to the words: wonders of how she looks so young, where she came from, what she did with so much time. The only question that she gives breath is the one that makes her laugh, head tilting to cast her hair in inky ripples over her shoulder. "And you're not bored yet?" There's no doubt that the world is vast and unpredictable, but she'd think that living for hundreds of years would suck the excitement out of it all. Hell, she was starting to get bored and she could only remember the past five years.
The warmth continues to permeate Charlie's voice as she leans in, singing like a dangerous siren song of truth that Thal resists through pure instinct. Trust doesn't come easy, but where she often finds shadowed corners or veiled traps, Charlie illuminates with honesty and sincerity, so bright and simple that it's hard to believe any hidden skeletons are there for reasons other than worship to Dygra. It casts an eerie quiet on the alarm bells that often scream through her head, agendas and experience be damned.
There are no witty quips or sarcasm this time, Thal only responding with a silent dip of her head; but the lack of words reveals more than anything she could have said aloud. There's a silver thread of jealousy in her gaze as she stares intently at the bone, a hunger for the same devotion, for a similar ironclad purpose - even if she refuses to voice those desires. She hides them in the turn of her head, focusing on the bone ripping free.
When she spins again, the emotion is gone, the steely humor back in the cold blue of her eyes. The Dusklight is a safe topic, one she clings to as she sets the bone into the new metal holder. She chuckles, giving Charlie a mischievous grin. "More than most people." Her finger steadies the ivory for the wax, arm propping on the table with interest while her tail swishes behind her. "How exactly do you work from there?"
The warmth continues to permeate Charlie's voice as she leans in, singing like a dangerous siren song of truth that Thal resists through pure instinct. Trust doesn't come easy, but where she often finds shadowed corners or veiled traps, Charlie illuminates with honesty and sincerity, so bright and simple that it's hard to believe any hidden skeletons are there for reasons other than worship to Dygra. It casts an eerie quiet on the alarm bells that often scream through her head, agendas and experience be damned.
There are no witty quips or sarcasm this time, Thal only responding with a silent dip of her head; but the lack of words reveals more than anything she could have said aloud. There's a silver thread of jealousy in her gaze as she stares intently at the bone, a hunger for the same devotion, for a similar ironclad purpose - even if she refuses to voice those desires. She hides them in the turn of her head, focusing on the bone ripping free.
When she spins again, the emotion is gone, the steely humor back in the cold blue of her eyes. The Dusklight is a safe topic, one she clings to as she sets the bone into the new metal holder. She chuckles, giving Charlie a mischievous grin. "More than most people." Her finger steadies the ivory for the wax, arm propping on the table with interest while her tail swishes behind her. "How exactly do you work from there?"
Thalassa
But there's a part of me that recognizes you
