Contemplatin', beg your pardon
Thal finds it hard to believe anything would dampen the bright warmth Charlie emanates. Not even the disappointing loss of Ancient culture and prosperity can strip the smile from her face, the energy constantly thrumming even if it the contact turns softer than a spring breeze. And in spite of her own mourning, the disgustingly infectious optimism reaches Thal. The irritation and entitlement flicker and shift to begrudging hope - hope that she might get to be a part of something greater than before. It softens her features, smile daring the world to take this from her. "Then I look forward to making it a reality."
The space is a relief, the lack of interruption or judgement not going unnoticed when she rips the new bone free. The words flow easier, the need to speak them outweighing the repercussions that might come with trusting the priestess - not that she reveals more than surface level, guarding the true desperations lower.
When she releases the bone to Charlie's possession, she finally deigns to look at her, watching the confidence and sincerity lay bare the reality of her aspirations and dig deeper into the core of what it means to be loved by Dygra - to honor her. Thal offers a smile that might have been appreciation if it weren't weighted heavy by thoughts. "Well, if there's one thing I'm good at, it's trying." - and failing. But Dygra had never seemed to care about that part, acknowledging the effort and mistakes without judgement or ridicule.
Her only regret was that she hadn't been strong enough to prevent the failure. She hadn't been when she'd first turned and not when she'd been infected. She knows the weakness goes deeper than physical strength, the flaring emotions that never quell, sparking and catching at the smallest whim. It's something she's tried to fight, something that has gotten her in trouble more than once, even if she's vaguely aware it's the compensatory cockiness that usually does the damage. But when the feelings threaten to strike deeper than any physical wounds or infections inflicted by feigned confidence, Thal throws up her mental walls again. Maybe that's something she needs to work on...
Turning to the deer again, Thal leaves that particular piece of growth for another time. Her hand reaches into the pelt and muscle, searching for the bone in the same manner she searches for her words. "I know she doesn't need me to do anything, but I want to be part of her bigger plans, for her to want me to be involved." Fingers clasp around the tibia, the force of ripping and pulling meant to hide the silly, childish notion she speaks aloud, especially as she adds, "I want to spend more time with her - to be in her physical presence as much as I can."
Realizing that she sounds like a child desperate for attention, Thal scowls when she presents Charlie with the bone. "Nevermind. That sounds stupid." Maybe she'd dismissed the power of ambience too soon, although she'd argue that the blood and gore is doing more than the candles ever could.
*
The space is a relief, the lack of interruption or judgement not going unnoticed when she rips the new bone free. The words flow easier, the need to speak them outweighing the repercussions that might come with trusting the priestess - not that she reveals more than surface level, guarding the true desperations lower.
When she releases the bone to Charlie's possession, she finally deigns to look at her, watching the confidence and sincerity lay bare the reality of her aspirations and dig deeper into the core of what it means to be loved by Dygra - to honor her. Thal offers a smile that might have been appreciation if it weren't weighted heavy by thoughts. "Well, if there's one thing I'm good at, it's trying." - and failing. But Dygra had never seemed to care about that part, acknowledging the effort and mistakes without judgement or ridicule.
Her only regret was that she hadn't been strong enough to prevent the failure. She hadn't been when she'd first turned and not when she'd been infected. She knows the weakness goes deeper than physical strength, the flaring emotions that never quell, sparking and catching at the smallest whim. It's something she's tried to fight, something that has gotten her in trouble more than once, even if she's vaguely aware it's the compensatory cockiness that usually does the damage. But when the feelings threaten to strike deeper than any physical wounds or infections inflicted by feigned confidence, Thal throws up her mental walls again. Maybe that's something she needs to work on...
Turning to the deer again, Thal leaves that particular piece of growth for another time. Her hand reaches into the pelt and muscle, searching for the bone in the same manner she searches for her words. "I know she doesn't need me to do anything, but I want to be part of her bigger plans, for her to want me to be involved." Fingers clasp around the tibia, the force of ripping and pulling meant to hide the silly, childish notion she speaks aloud, especially as she adds, "I want to spend more time with her - to be in her physical presence as much as I can."
Realizing that she sounds like a child desperate for attention, Thal scowls when she presents Charlie with the bone. "Nevermind. That sounds stupid." Maybe she'd dismissed the power of ambience too soon, although she'd argue that the blood and gore is doing more than the candles ever could.
*
Thalassa
But there's a part of me that recognizes you
