Contemplatin', beg your pardon
She can relate to Charlie's words, even if she doesn't like them. After all, the approval and bubbly energy are making it difficult to let her personal scrapbook of failures flash too bright. Instead, they brush past with the same intensity as the priestess's sympathy - the one that surprisingly doesn't feel like pity. There's no shame, just as Dygra hadn't painted her in guilt or blame. There's only a quiet acknowledgement of the progress made and the silent effort put forth.
The dark blue-black of her horns catches the light when she nods her head. "It's harder to tell that there was any effort when the results don't show it." The smile she casts towards Charlie is sharp, finding humor in the pain now that time has passed. "But I suppose the bad outcomes often change us more than the good."
Her tail begins to swish in quiet consideration, her eyes flickering to the candle like she might see the goddess in its wavering heat, thinking on her failures and what they've bought her - if not positive outcomes. Whether it was her relationships, her infection, or her near death experiences, they'd shown the depth of her emotions to be both a strength and a weakness, something to be harnessed or manipulated. But regardless, they're a part of her, something she can't change, only accept. And maybe that's what Dygra has been telling her all along.
Charlie's reassurance breaks through her thoughts, the bone releasing from her grasp along with some of the expectations of judgment, the laughter even calming her in a way that makes her fairly certain the priestess has some unknown Ancient magic. In fact, a flicker of a smile shadows over her lips at the bright agreeance.
But it falls away at the gentle honesty, the disappointment hanging heavier than she'd expected. Her features pinch, obviously trying to grapple with what Charlie is saying. Thal had always thought of Dygra as a mother, someone who loves her children and enjoys having them visit her at shrines, but if Dygra is everywhere, all the time, then seeing her in person is just a selfish desire, a way for her to see the goddess when she rarely does.
Thal props a hand on the table, letting out a sighing mutter. "So it all comes back to me, huh?"
Raising her gaze back to Charlie, her blue eyes narrow, playfully scolding with a hint of true suspicion. "You're too good at this."
The dark blue-black of her horns catches the light when she nods her head. "It's harder to tell that there was any effort when the results don't show it." The smile she casts towards Charlie is sharp, finding humor in the pain now that time has passed. "But I suppose the bad outcomes often change us more than the good."
Her tail begins to swish in quiet consideration, her eyes flickering to the candle like she might see the goddess in its wavering heat, thinking on her failures and what they've bought her - if not positive outcomes. Whether it was her relationships, her infection, or her near death experiences, they'd shown the depth of her emotions to be both a strength and a weakness, something to be harnessed or manipulated. But regardless, they're a part of her, something she can't change, only accept. And maybe that's what Dygra has been telling her all along.
Charlie's reassurance breaks through her thoughts, the bone releasing from her grasp along with some of the expectations of judgment, the laughter even calming her in a way that makes her fairly certain the priestess has some unknown Ancient magic. In fact, a flicker of a smile shadows over her lips at the bright agreeance.
But it falls away at the gentle honesty, the disappointment hanging heavier than she'd expected. Her features pinch, obviously trying to grapple with what Charlie is saying. Thal had always thought of Dygra as a mother, someone who loves her children and enjoys having them visit her at shrines, but if Dygra is everywhere, all the time, then seeing her in person is just a selfish desire, a way for her to see the goddess when she rarely does.
Thal props a hand on the table, letting out a sighing mutter. "So it all comes back to me, huh?"
Raising her gaze back to Charlie, her blue eyes narrow, playfully scolding with a hint of true suspicion. "You're too good at this."
Thalassa
But there's a part of me that recognizes you
