Flora
Flora’s mouth quirks at Colt’s answer, even with the bite in it, her gaze lingering on the distant shapes a second longer than strictly necessary. There is something in her that still softens at the sight, a quiet, almost girlish awe she doesn’t bother to justify, and she hopes—privately, harmlessly—that the dogs don’t chase every last one of them clear off the hills. Then the moment passes, tucked away, and she turns back to the work with a small shake of her head.
As the explanation rolls on, her brow creases just slightly, lips pursing as she tracks the path Colt’s pointing out. The geometry of it all doesn’t immediately click, and rather than slow anyone down with questions, Flora opts for usefulness in the ways she knows she can manage. She steps in close as the panels go up, hands firm as she holds them steady, bracing metal and chain while others fasten things into place. When screws or hinges are needed, she’s already there, scooping them up and passing them along, moving with quick efficiency even if she lets the builders worry about the finer points of alignment.
She wipes her hands on her shorts between panels, dust smearing without ceremony, and flashes Colt a quick, encouraging smile as she shifts to the next spot. "You tell me where you want pressure and where you don’t," she says lightly, settling in to hold another panel in place, "and I can absolutely be your human paperweight."
Flora doesn't really understand how the panels go together but tries to be helpful.
As the explanation rolls on, her brow creases just slightly, lips pursing as she tracks the path Colt’s pointing out. The geometry of it all doesn’t immediately click, and rather than slow anyone down with questions, Flora opts for usefulness in the ways she knows she can manage. She steps in close as the panels go up, hands firm as she holds them steady, bracing metal and chain while others fasten things into place. When screws or hinges are needed, she’s already there, scooping them up and passing them along, moving with quick efficiency even if she lets the builders worry about the finer points of alignment.
She wipes her hands on her shorts between panels, dust smearing without ceremony, and flashes Colt a quick, encouraging smile as she shifts to the next spot. "You tell me where you want pressure and where you don’t," she says lightly, settling in to hold another panel in place, "and I can absolutely be your human paperweight."
Flora doesn't really understand how the panels go together but tries to be helpful.
passion is a passing thing, it's accidental chemistry
caught up in a feelin', it can be deceivin'.
this is like breaking for me
caught up in a feelin', it can be deceivin'.
this is like breaking for me
Code stolen from Queen Sky
