Flora
Flora braces when told, palms firm against cold metal as the panel threatens to swing, shoulders locking in with a quiet, concentrated huff. The shudder runs through her arms, but she holds it, eyes flicking up to Colt as the comment lands. Her mouth curves into a grin immediately, brows bouncing as promised. "Anchor," she repeats with a laugh, nodding once in full concession.
When that side is declared stable, she releases the panel and rolls her shoulders out, shaking her hands once before drifting with the group toward the opposite edge of the arena. The pattern is familiar enough now that she slots herself into the same role without being asked, stepping in close to steady, to hold, to pass along whatever is needed with quick hands and minimal fuss.
The sudden chaos of movement near her boots makes her pause, gaze snapping downward as the Speaking Squirrels dart through like they own the place, voices chiming out their shrill little chorus of follow! follow! Flora stills, caught halfway between amusement and genuine curiosity, and she glances toward Colt with a lifted brow, thumb hitching subtly in their direction as if asking whether this is a thing she should be doing. The shake of a nearby hand’s head answers for her, and Flora exhales a soft laugh, stepping back into place instead.
"Maybe next time guys," she mutters to one of the squirrels under her breath as she plants herself again, hands finding the next panel, anchor once more while dogs and squirrels blur past in a mess of fur, noise, and dust.
When that side is declared stable, she releases the panel and rolls her shoulders out, shaking her hands once before drifting with the group toward the opposite edge of the arena. The pattern is familiar enough now that she slots herself into the same role without being asked, stepping in close to steady, to hold, to pass along whatever is needed with quick hands and minimal fuss.
The sudden chaos of movement near her boots makes her pause, gaze snapping downward as the Speaking Squirrels dart through like they own the place, voices chiming out their shrill little chorus of follow! follow! Flora stills, caught halfway between amusement and genuine curiosity, and she glances toward Colt with a lifted brow, thumb hitching subtly in their direction as if asking whether this is a thing she should be doing. The shake of a nearby hand’s head answers for her, and Flora exhales a soft laugh, stepping back into place instead.
"Maybe next time guys," she mutters to one of the squirrels under her breath as she plants herself again, hands finding the next panel, anchor once more while dogs and squirrels blur past in a mess of fur, noise, and dust.
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
